A King's War

Chapter 2

VER

I laid across the roof of the building and crawled my way to the edge, looking over cautiously. I made sure the hood of my cloak was pulled down low and the scarf wrapped around my face was securely in place. I watched and waited as the wagon pulled around the corner a few buildings away from where I was.

The dark blue and silver of the Valveronian soldiers’ tunics stood out against the dark wood wagon and the black horses pulling it. Cloth bags were thrown in the back of the wagon, each holding a fortune’s worth of coins or other valuables. The King’s Blood bastard who sat on the throne had called for the taxes to be paid and his loyal little soldiers had hopped to it, filling their wagons with what little was left from the people. The ones that couldn’t pay, were dragged away to the dungeons.

This was the way it had been since the Valveronians had invaded Ralorn and killed the King and Queen, my parents. My brother and I had barely escaped with our own lives. Since then, we’d been forced into hiding and forced to endure the takeover of the Valveronian soldiers and Zatir’s reign. He thought himself a king but I’ll be damned if I was going to make it easy for him.

He wanted my brother and I dead. He’d put a bounty out on us to make sure it happened. Problem was, these were our people and they weren’t going to turn us over for a pile of gold. They wanted me on the throne instead of him and they were willing to help make it happen. I had been gathering supporters, warriors, but thus far it had not been enough. We were still outnumbered and outmatched. If I wanted to take back my kingdom, I’d need more support, or else a lot of my people would die. Some of my people were still too scared to fight back for they’d seen what happened to the people Zatir deemed traitors. Which had only caused my younger brother Ilrune to come up with more and more drastic plans to win over the remainder of our people. Which in turn had Zatir looking more fervently than ever for us.

I looked across from the roof of the building I was on to the one across the cobbled street. A cloaked figure stood in the alleyway between the buildings across from me, hand on their sword. I watched as she nodded discreetly to me before disappearing further into the shadows. I then turned my attention to the second cloaked figure walking slowly and inconspicuously a distance behind the wagon. He gave me a slight wave, acknowledging that he saw me before ducking into the doorway of one of the taverns. And if I had any doubt where Ilrune was, he reminded me by cursing when he got his scarf tangled around his face next to me.

“Gods who designed this?” He muttered. His voice muffled from the fabric.

I shook my head and turned away from him, watching the wagon once more. “The wagon’s approaching,” I told him. “Try not to screw this one up.”

“Who me?” He questioned when he finally got his scarf situated around his mouth and no longer covering his eyes. He then pulled the hood of his cloak down low over his head. “I’ll remind you that this was my idea,” He said.

“I’ll remind you that you tripped over a barrel during our last expedition and Galen had to rescue you from the guards.”

He waved me away and laid out next to me. “I was just giving Galen the opportunity to stab some blue tunics,” He said, referring to the Valveronian soldiers. “You know how he adores that.”

“Adores?” I questioned. “Have you been reading Tephysea’s poetry books again?”

“There’s nothing else to read. That’s all she buys.”

“Besides that,” I continued. “Galen does not need to end up being caught because of you.”

“I would never dream of getting your precious bodyguard caught.”

“Galen’s a good friend,” I reminded him. “Who just so happens to be a part of the royal guard.”

Which was completely true. Galen’s father had been captain of the King’s guard and Galen had been in training ever since he was little to be a part of the royal guard himself. Eventually, he succeeded and was appointed as my guard, but shortly after, Ralorn had fallen and there was no more royal guard or king’s guard, though Galen still considered himself a member of the royal guard and now the king’s guard since he was guarding, well, me. More importantly, though, Galen and I had grown up together and I trusted him with my life. Aila was also a part of the king’s guard from before and had frequently worked with Galen which was mostly how I came to know her. And she was also helping us now, staying ducked in the shadows between buildings.

“You mean what’s left of the royal guard,” Ilrune muttered.

I glared at him before turning my attention back to the wagon which had continued moving down the street. “Get ready,” I whispered to him. Ilrune pulled his sword from his sheath and also pushed himself up on his toes, positioning himself like a gargoyle on the edge of the building.

I studied my brother as he perched so easily on the very edge of the bricks, looking like the breeze would blow him over and yet steady as a rock. It was true that because of our elven heritage that we were faster, stealthier, as well as more nimble and agile than the Valveronian soldiers we fought who were merely sons and daughters of man. Although, Ilrune had always been a much more skilled warrior than I. He had attended the academy in Ralorn when it had been open and had studied more in the art of fighting. I myself had also attended the academy, but not for very long. For the crown prince was to be given all his lessons in the palace by only the best tutors. As such, I tended to be more strategic than my younger brother. My studies focused on strategy, and knowledge more than fighting. Except, I was better with a bow than Ilrune would ever be.

Which was why I was on the rooftop. Ilrune was up here because he lived for the flare of the dramatic and as such wanted to “descend like a dragon from the myths of old.”

I reached for my bow that was laid across the bricks next to me, my fingers lightly stroking over the wood. It had been made from the wood of a white ash tree. A tree only native to our land and quite a sight to behold. The trees had white wood that was strong as metal and leaves the darkest color of the night sky. When it turned to winter, the leaves would not fall as they did on other trees. No, these leaves would turn to ashes and end up being carried away by winter’s wind. Since the fall of Ralorn however, the Ruthless King had ordered them all destroyed.

There had used to be a white ash tree in the courtyard of the castle. It was old and huge and magnificent. And the Ruthless King had used it as a symbol that he’d won the war against my father, by lighting the tree and letting it burn brightly to the ground. Now all that was left of it were ashes.

It was from that tree that my bow had been made. Every member of the royal family was given a weapon from that tree when they came of age. A branch was cut and a weapon was carved from it. Though only our kind knew how to carve anything from that tree. Which was why the Ruthless King had ordered them all burned. That particular tree had been in the royal family for more generations than I cared to count and when it went up in flames, it signaled the fall of my parents. The fall of Ralorn.

My brother had a dagger made from a branch of that tree and I had my bow. White in color, strong and steady. I had never missed a shot with it since my father had had it carved for me. There was also gold laid in patterns throughout the wood of the bow. Patterns that turned into leaves and swirling of winds. It was my last reminder of my parents and the last reminder of the way things were before that winter two winters ago when the Valveronian army and the Ruthless King marched on our kingdom.

I pulled an arrow from the quiver strapped to my back over the cloak and gently placed it in line on my bow. I stayed waiting and waiting. The entire time, Ilrune didn’t move. He stayed perfectly still, waiting for my mark. I pushed myself to my knees, raised the bow, and pulled back the arrow as the wagon moved closer our way. Ilrune’s hand tightened on his sword. The feathers of my arrow brushed my cheek as I held the bow tautly. My breathing slowed and steadied as I locked my eyes on the blue tunic holding onto the reins of the horses. I breathed out slowly. Breathed in. And as I breathed out the second time, I let loose the arrow.