War of Three Kings - Chapter One

[drakensis]

Prologue

Chapter One

Then answered Jesus and said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do: for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.
John 5:19

A stormy sky promised worse weather to follow as a small party essayed the road from Desse to Rhemuth late in January. Sir Vasco de Varian had appealed to his prince to wait out the weather in Desse where there were many inns suitable to his station and much less chance of being soaked to the bone on the road.

That prospect didn't please Cinhil Haldane however and thus Vasco, two servants and four Haldane lancers found themselves trotting along the road on his heels. The wind had whipped locks of the prince's dark hair out of the queue he favoured and set them fluttering about his face. Skin darkened by southern sun over recent months and wearing only simple riding leathers dyed the crimson of House Haldane, Cinhil looked years younger than he had on departing Rhemuth the previous autumn.

He was also drawing steadily ahead of his companions.

"My lord, we'll founder our horses if we try catching up," the sergeant of the lancers called forward to Vasco.

"I know," the young knight answered. "Stay with the servants and the baggage. I'll rein him in if I can."

The expression he saw on the sergeant's face when he looked back spoke eloquently of how likely it was that the Prince would accept being 'reined in' by his aide and Vasco shrugged helplessly before flicking his reins and breaking into a canter. He'd spent a good measure of his savings to purchase the gelding while in R'Kassi with Cinhil and it was the finest horse he'd ever owned. Honesty would compel him to admit though that the charger was no match for tall stallion the King of R'Kassi had handpicked from his stables as a gift to his princely cousin.

Cinhil looked back, a twinkle in the eyes that had always been noticeably darker than those of his Haldane kin. Then he nudged his own horse forwards and Vasco saw the gap widen again. "My lord!" he called forward in appeal and grudgingly urged his horse as fast as he dared.

The road ahead turned to follow one of the streams that flowed into the Eiran River for a short distance before reaching a well-maintained bridge. Vasco thought for a moment that the prince would dare – as some foolhardy squires and even younger knights had occasionally done, ignoring the turn and having their horses leap the narrow point of the stream.

Fortunately at least some caution remained and Cinhil turned the stallion's head aside. Even with the detour he'd be at the bridge before Vasco could even reach the turn and then out of sight behind the trees that marked the edge of one of the royal hunting preserves.

Vasco gritted his teeth and leant low over his horse's neck. "You can do this," he confided, more in hope than in faith. He'd seen a squire attempt the jump three years ago and fail. The boy survived but the horse broke three legs and Prince Cinhil had firmly insisted that the boy take responsibility for putting it down.

The horse bunched its legs as they reached the edge of the stream and for a moment Vasco thought he'd lose his seat as they left the ground. Then all four hooves found the ground on the far side – the man sure he never wanted to find out how close his steed's rear hooves were to the edge – and they were bursting into the woods to emerge on the road ahead of the startled Prince.

"Vasco!" Cinhil snapped. "You know that's not a safe jump. You could have broken your neck – or had to explain to your father what happened to the horse you spent so much money on."

"You're right, your highness." Vasco leant forwards and patted the gelding's neck gratefully. "But I could also have had to explain to your father why I let you out of my sight. Or to your daughters why I didn't bring you back safely. Lady Rhetice promised a sound kick to my shins if I let anything happen to that."

The prince snorted and then threw back his head and laughed. "Oh well, with a fearsome threat like that I can see why you took that chance. For Rhetice and Albina's sake, I promise not to ride off on my own so long as you promise not to do anything so reckless."

"Gladly, Your Highness." Vasco turned his gelding. "Can I persuade you to wait until the guards catch up as well?"

"There's a storm coming in and I'd like to make it to Rhemuth before dark. I'll wait for them at the next inn so they know they can stay there and catch up tomorrow, but then I'll press on. As you've reminded me, I have daughters waiting for me."

"I'm sure your father will be pleased at your diligence at returning so quickly."

Cinhil's face tightened slightly. "Of that, perhaps. I hope he doesn't think I'll be pleased at such a sharp recall."

"Your Highness, he is the king."

"I know. And he has my obedience, for am I not here? Whether it's cheerful and willing will depend on his reasons for calling me home like an errant child."

Vasco raised his eyebrows but – not being privy to the exact contents of the letter sent by King Urien – declined to comment. "If I may advance another reason to wait for our baggage, may I remind you of the gifts for your lady mother and lady daughters that remain with that baggage. I lack your years of wisdom, Your Highness, but it seems to me that as pleased as they might be by your presence, that some token of affection is often expected by a lady after an absence of several months."

"Oh? And is there a lady waiting for you to provide her such a token? I recall a package of silks well wrapped among your own possessions, Vasco."

"You have seen right through me, Sire. My sister is at court and were I to arrive without the promised silks, well I can't speak for my safety."

"For your sake then, Vasco, I'll yield the point. But rather than the next inn, I believe there's an Abbey a mile or so further along. I'm sure the Abbot will be glad to offer hospitality to some travellers wanting to avoid the rain."

.o0o.

The abbey were – to nobody's surprise – delighted to extend hospitality to a royal visitor and his entourage. This hospitality even extended to a thanksgiving mass the following morning where the monks and every lay tenant who could be called in at short notice gave thanks to God for the safe return of the much beloved heir apparent from his sojourn across the Southern Sea.

As a consequence they didn't leave the abbey until the sun was approaching its zenith and Cinhil pushed the pace along the road as fast as he dared given the snow-covered state of the ground and the heavy clouds that threatened another layer would be delivered soon. With the horses well rested however they reached the gates of Rhemuth before the promise was fulfilled and the normally busy streets were almost deserted as a consequence of the weather.

Their arrival at the gates was announced with glad cries by the guards and pages were sent scurrying to alert various personages of the facts almost before the prince had left his saddle.

Descending the steps from the grand hall almost as one, Fulbert Fitz-Arthur and his more illustrious cousin Tambert Fitz-Arthur Quinnell bowed in reverence to Cinhil as they reached the yard. "Welcome home, my prince," the grizzled constable of Rhemuth murmured when he bid them to rise.

"It's..." Cinhil hesitated and then half in surprise concluded. "Good to be home, Fulbert. Very good."

"We weren't expecting you for another week or so," confessed Tambert. "Although with a fine horse like that I imagine you travelled faster than most."

"Father was quite firm that I shouldn't delay."

The Duke of Cassan nodded. "There's a lot on his mind. It'll be a great relief to his majesty that you're home safe and sound."

Cinhil paused and then looked at Vasco. "Delegate seeing my baggage to my rooms, Vasco. I think I'll want you with me for this. Unless..." He looked over at Tambert thoughtfully. "This isn't about another marriage is it? Father promised me at least a year before he'd demand I go stud for the kingdom again."

"You don't have to put it so bluntly."

"The way the ladies at court behaved – with Micole barely buried – it felt very much like that."

"If it were only that, Cinhil, we'd have been happy for you come back on your own schedule. Let's be honest: if we were looking at opening negotiations for a royal marriage your father wouldn't really need you home to make a start."

"You have a list waiting, don't you?"

Tambert affected to look hurt at the accusatory tone. "Of course I have a list, Cinhil. I'm your father's Chancellor, it's my job to have a list ready. But the list's waiting for when you're ready. I promise neither Urien nor I have so much as hinted at finding you another bride."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. That was unfair of me."

"Indeed. Mind you, I imagine your mother has a list too and if you expect me to keep Queen Jaroni from considering who might bear her more grandchildren then you're looking at the wrong man."

In a plaintive voice that was mostly a jest, Cinhil looked skyward and beseeched, "Why me?"

"It's not just you. Jaron will be of age this year, remember?"

"The poor boy." Cinhil and his youngest brother were separated in age by almost twenty years. That didn't keep him from being able to think back to the uncertainties of reaching manhood in the eyes of the law while still a boy in many respects.

Fulbert snorted at the description and then shook his head. "Your father's at the armoury, you'd better go to him."

Cinhil's eyes narrowed as he surrendered the reins of his horse to one of the stableboys and strode around the ward. Vasco stretched his legs to keep up. "Your Highness? You don't suppose his majesty is... unwell?" It was the only thing he could think of that the Chancellor – the King's own cousin – would hesitate to disclose himself.

"I don't know. But why the armoury if that's the case?"

The buildings that made up the castle's armoury not only stored weapons and armour for the garrison but also the smithys and workshops that were used to maintain and replace them. It was easy enough to find the King – Urien Haldane stood patiently outside one of the workshops, twisting and stretching his limbs as a master armourer and two apprentices adjusted the fit of new greaves.

Vasco didn't think he'd ever seen the King in full armour before but now here he was in mail and plate, lacking only sword and shield to step into a tourney... or a battle. He turned his helmeted head at their approach and a cool smile flickered across his face at the sight of Cinhil.

"Welcome home, my son. I'd have come to greet you but Master Daniel needs to finish these adjustments or I could have an accident trying to walk in this."

Cinhil dropped to one knee in honest, if confused respect. Vasco followed him hastily, similarly perplexed. "Father... everyone's walking on eggshells. There must be dire news for you to call me home so urgently but neither Tambert nor Fulbert felt free to tell me."

"Hmm. Well it's not a secret as such but yes, I'd say the news counts as dire. You know we've been keeping an eye on Torenth since Kyprian completed his campaigns in the north more than a year ago. You probably don't recall but when you were a boy it seemed very likely he'd support Imre of Tolan in another attempt to overthrow us."

"You can't mean he's going to try now? Torenth has been at war in the north for almost thirty years! They have to be exhausted."

"I hoped that would be the case too, Cinhil, but the latest news suggests otherwise. On the last day of last year Imre of Tolan abdicated his claims to Gwynedd in favour of his son Marek. Kyprian didn't just allow him to be installed as a King by the Patriarch; he ordered a ceremonial anointment of Marek as a Furstán king, almost as if he was his own successor."

"Then he's serious."

"Deadly serious. King Kyprian's thrown his full support behind the Festillic pretender. Whether it's been formally declared or not, Gwynedd and Torenth are at war for the first time in forty years. And God alone knows where that will take us."

.o0o.

Blaine Makrory's first thought when he saw the torch-lit party outside Count Donan's door was that his gambit the previous month might have paid off and Prince Arkady or his brother might have sent for him. That would move him a valuable step closer to access to the information he needed.

It wasn't until a sleepy voice queried the identity of the arrivals that Blaine, looking down from one of the windows overlooking the street realised that the heraldry was wrong. The men-at-arms weren't wearing the black and white heraldry of the House of Furstán but the pale blue of Tolan quartered with a darker red that suggested Gwynedd's crimson.

Festillic heraldry!

Sure enough, in confirmation, a deep voice declared that the party was that of Prince Adolphus Festil.

There was rattling as the door was unlatched. Blaine backed away from the window and moved quietly across the chamber, not wishing to wake the men he shared the room with. The door opened smoothly and he closed it behind him before taking the stairs upwards. The Count's townhouse offset the floors at the back half a storey higher than at the front, allowing for a high-ceilinged chamber on the ground floor.

Outside the Count's own chamber, the guard was looking startled. "What's going on?"

"The King of Gwynedd's brother has come to call, Rurik. I need to wake Lord Donan."

Startled the man nodded and knocked on the door with his gauntlet to alert the men within before pushing at the latch.

Inside, Count Donan remained fast but two of his knights were sleeping on pallets either side of the bed and both were away, the most alert even with his sword in hand. "Sir Blaine?"

"Please wake the Count. He has an important visitor at the door." Blaine was about to head back to the door when there was a flicker of light out of the window. He stepped closer and looked out. Another troop of men in the blue and red livery were there, with lanterns. "Sir," he asked the Count, who was still blinking his eyes and trying to get to grips with being told there was a visitor. "The building's been surrounded by guards."

"Surrounded!" The count jerked awake. "Who would do such a thing? This makes no sense."

"Well it's Prince Adolphus at the door." Blaine carefully didn't speculate as to why. The Makrory family, like their more famous cousins in Gwynedd the MacRories, included many gifted Deryni. He had to assume he could be being Truth-Read at any time.

"Sir Moiri, take the Prince into the hall. I'll join him shortly. If he wishes to bring his men in..." Donan shook his head. "No. I've done nothing wrong. He can bring his men in but rouse our own men. If they try to come upstairs, stop them." The count's family, along with those of his household, were on the upper floors of the house.

"Sir Blaine." The count threw off his bed covers. "You're gifted at gathering information. Try to talk to the Prince's men. Find out what is going on. The King has always favoured his Festil cousins greatly but I see no reason he or they would mean me harm. This is... this is inexplicable."

Blaine nodded and backed out of the room, letting Sir Moiri go past him and down the stairs.

The Festil armsmen were already through the door which wasn't a particularly good sign, he felt. Still – there was a lack of fingers being pointed at him so either he wasn't specifically being sought out or they weren't here for what he feared.

Following Moiri to the ground floor he received no reaction until he turned towards the door. A pair of guards who had been standing by the door moved forward intercepted him. "I'm sorry, my lord. The prince has ordered no one is to leave until he's spoken to Count Donan."

"I don't imagine the Count will be pleased to hear that," Blaine murmured, half-turning and gauging his chances of getting his hands on one of the guards. The order only made sense if they wanted to apprehend someone and his one chance might lie with their not knowing who exactly they were after.

Looking again the guards were obviously acting in pairs and he thought he felt the hint of shields on the nearest guard at the doors. Not the strongest of shields but certainly enough to alert the man if Blaine tried to subvert him. So they knew enough to be looking for a Deryni.

"Well, we all have our orders. I'm sure the Count and your Prince can settle matters. Please be aware the Count would be very displeased if anyone other than his household went upstairs before he and the Prince can speak."

"I'll be sure to make my lord aware of that if it becomes an issue, my lord."

"Good man."

Blaine went the stairs considering his options. Back and front were guarded, the townhouse walls abutted the neighbours but they were stout stone to maintain the Count's security. And if there was a Transfer Portal here in the house then no one had told Blaine about it.

"My lord," he began as Donan left his chamber. "They're refusing to allow anyone to leave. It seems likely they're here for someone specifically. I'm not sure why yet however some possibilities almost suggest themselves."

"I'll ask directly," Donan decided. "I want you with me, Blaine. You're known to the King's sons, which may deter any rash decisions by the prince."

I can only hope. Blaine followed the Count back down the stairs and into the hall. Prince Adolphus, titular Duke of Eastmarch and by Festillic reckoning third in the line of succession to Gwynedd had taken the Count's seat at the high table. His sword rested unsheathed upon the table and his face was grim. "Count Donan. I regret that I've come to your house under these circumstances."

"I've been more than happy to host you under less mysterious circumstances," Donan observed sharply.

"Then let remove the mystery." Adolphus studied his sword for a moment and then looked up fiercely. "My lord you have a spy in your household, one intent on undermining our Kings' plans for the future."

"That's impossible. I trust everyone here absolutely."

"I'm sorry to say that complicates matters, Count Donan. You do trust your household and thus any of them could have obtained the information we deliberately shared with you. We've done this with all the major households over the winter and our own spies have reported what information reached our enemies."

"No Makrory would serve the Haldanes! You know – or should – how they destroyed our cousins in Gwynedd. Camber of Culdi may have betrayed your ancestor but he paid for his crime and we've all seen the bitter weed that resulted."

"It isn't precisely the Haldanes that the spy serves although I'll admit it's a group that for reasons beyond all understanding for some reason support their rule over Gwynedd." The prince gestured to Donan to sit. "Please be assured, there's no suggestion that you're implicated in this treason, Count Donan. I'm here to ask your aid in unmasking and removing this blemish on your Household, nothing more."

Donan growled something that even Blaine, standing directly behind him, couldn't make out. The knight pulled a stool out from under the high table and placed it opposite Prince Adolphus. The count looked at him, nodded firmly and then sat upon the stool. "Very well then, Your Highness. I am, of course, eager to clear the names of my household from this slur."

"I understand that determination, my lord." Adolphus steepled his fingers in front of him. "My ancestors have long been concerned at reports of Haldanes in possession of arcane powers. It's been suggested that they themselves are secretly Deryni but if so the blood should be so thin after generations of intermarrying with humans that I can't see how it would explain their purported abilities."

"Surely it's more likely they keep a Deryni or two in their service – coerced by use of their family as hostages if they prove reluctant. I've heard rumours."

"Not entirely unfounded, alas. King Javan at least briefly maintained a Healer for himself in such a manner and one of my ancestors infiltrated an agent into the Haldane's courts in just such a role. Alas he was uncovered before he could get close enough to the Haldane to establish the truth, a truth that sadly remains elusive."

"Nonetheless, we've continued efforts to insert spies into the Gwynedd in preparation for our eventual return. Naturally we've been trying to contact any Deryni that remain in Gwynedd since a Festillic Restoration has much to offer them. Would it surprise you to learn there's a council of Deryni who claim authority over all our people?"

"Authority over us? That's ridiculous. King Kyprian would hardly accept such a council as having authority over him and nor would any other Deryni lord."

"That would depend upon exactly how far they see their reach as going. We actually first became aware of them through one of their members campaigning to codify the rules of the Duel Arcane in Bremagne, with some degree of success. As measures go that isn't an unreasonable measure and there are few enough of our kind in the southern Kingdoms without their killing each other off recklessly."

"All very well but why look to some secretive council for guidance on the matter, my lord?" enquired Blaine. "Surely King Arion's decree on the formalities of such duels has provided an example of how Deryni ought to conduct ourselves in these matters for at least seventy years."

"Nobly spoken, sir knight. However, that decree set terms that are in the most part derived from those being proposed by that very Council. It is after all quite a sensible notion and by adopting their rules on one matter we hoped to open communication with them. Alas what we found was far from the apolitical scholars we had hoped for. They style themselves, we've learned, the Camberian Council."

Donan Makrory half-rose to his feet before sinking back to the stool. "Camberian! You cannot mean?"

"Alas yes, these people appear to still revere the treacherous Earl Camber of Culdi as the Saint he was claimed to be after he slew my ancestress Ariella on the plains of Iomaire after helping Cinhil Haldane to murder her brother, King Imre. And just as he did, they have declared themselves the protectors of the Haldanes. Which, of course, explains at least part of the powers the Haldanes have exhibited over the years: a Deryni close at hand but one of this Council's agents rather than a coerced servant."

"Those fools! What can they hope to accomplish?"

Adolphus' lips curled in distaste. "I would think that evident, Count Donan. While some may be motivated by misguided zeal for the cause of 'Saint Camber', it's probable that their leaders seek to make the Haldanes their puppets and rule Gwynedd from the shadows."

Blaine was hard-pressed to keep dismay from his face. To suggest that the Council would be so wanton as to abandon the loyalties of their founders? But perhaps with the internecine plotting that had so often characterised the Furstán Court at Beldour – and at times fissured House Furstán itself – perhaps it was inevitable that they'd fill the gaps between the facts with what they themselves were accustomed to: untrammelled ambition.

And how likely, he asked himself, was it that one of the Festils would admit that Gwynedd prospered far more under the rule of the restored House of Haldane than it had under their tyranny?

That admission would probably be forever beyond them.

"I see. They would hardly welcome a restored House of Festil upon the Lion throne of Gwynedd then."

"Quite. The Festillic Kings bowed their heads gladly to our brother Kings at Beldour but they were puppets to no one," agreed Adolphus. "They must be aware that under my brother, Gwynedd would be safe from their schemes and with a Deryni King, our people would no longer need to look to some shadowy conspiracy to protect them from the humans."

"Alas, now that you explain it I can see how such a group could exist." Count Donan rubbed his face. "But my understanding is not sympathy for them. If you suggest that because of the connection to Camber MacRorie that my people would make common cause with these people."

"I will not pretend that there was not once such a concern, my lord. But my house has been exiled from our homes for many years and we've often seen the loyalty of the Makrorys to the Iron Throne. Besides which, as my father has counselled, anyone must realise that there would be an instinctive thought once Camber's name was raised to at least look in your direction. It would therefore seem too dangerous to the Camberian Council to place an agent somewhere as obvious as among your household."

"But now you feel that they have."

"Alas it is so. It's impossible, we felt, to hide that we've made an alliance with the Prince of Meara. However, certain details of that arrangement have been purposefully obfuscated to see which tales reached the Camberian Council. Two days ago one of our loyal men learned in conversation with one of the Council that silver from the sack of Avargorod was being shipped to Meara to subsidise the hiring of Connaiti mercenaries for the Prince's army. Such a small detail but one that betrayed the source of the information."

"Are you saying that it isn't true?"

"Oh there is a subsidy, but we've spread several stories of where the funds will come from. Only you, Count Makrory, were told that it was Avargorod silver, so only a man in your confidence could have passed the information to the Camberian Council."

"I... forgive me, Your Highness, but I find it almost impossible to believe one of my trusted officers could betray me so."

Adolphus rose and walked around the table to meet Donan, who stood to face him. The prince took Donan's arm. "Believe me; I understand how deeply such a betrayal cuts. This man likely was at first misled but we can't deny it and we must know who he is and how far his actions run. If he's simply been deceived then he can redeem himself in our service by sending misinformation to his masters. But if he's given himself heart and soul to the Haldanes and their supporters then he will pay the price for his treason."

Donan hung his head. "I... yes, I understand. What then if all my men are found innocent? And how will you tell."

"My lord I believe his highness brought quite a number of Deryni among his armsmen. Most probably he intends that all of us submit to being probed."

"You demand this!" The Count unintentionally flared his aura at the very suggestion. "Your brother may be rightful King of Gwynedd, sir, but he is not king here!"

"You are a most perceptive man, sir knight," murmured the prince. He reached into the wallet at his belt and extracted from it a twice folded document, weighty with a heavy wax seal. "I have the writ of my uncle, who most assuredly is king here, Count Donan. In this I act from him and not for my brother, Marek."

Donan unfolded the document and examined. "This... appears authentic. Sir Blaine, you've been seconded to the King's service before. Do you agree?"

Blaine accepted the parchment. "A moment, my lord. I will need to examine it in better light." He conjured silvery light in one hand, holding it to illuminate the parchment. His attention wasn't on the words however. The game is well and truly up, he thought. I might be able to bluff my way through being Truth-Read but not past a serious probe. And I can't let them learn all I know about the Council.

Donan looked impatiently at him and Blaine nodded reluctantly. "It seems in order, my lord." He took a step towards the prince, extending the parchment and Kyprian the Conqueror's writ, commanding that Donan Makrory, Count of Kulnán, and his household submit to full examination of their loyalties by his officers. If I wasn't in here I might make it across the rooftops although I'd be risking ice on the slates. But in here, with guards at all doors... I'm captured or dead.

"I insist you examine me first," Donan declared to Adolphus. "If this must be done then I'll take the lead. I owe the innocent among my household that."

Amusement curled Adolphus' lips. "My dear Count, do you think I waited for your consent?"

"What! I ordered..."

Blaine's eyes widened. "A spell to keep us from hearing what's happening outside."

"Very quick," Adolphus said approval. "Please don't," he added to Donan, taking a step towards the infuriated Deryni Lord as the man spun towards the door.

That step brought him into reach of Blaine and a moment before he could seize Count Donan the prince found himself seized by one arm. Blaine hooked Adolphus' heel with his own and brought the man to the floor.

With alarmed shouts the guards rushed forward and Donan, unclear on what had happened drew the long knife that was his only weapon to defend himself. Blaine ignored them all, focusing instead on forcing himself against the prince's shields.

Surprised and somewhat stunned by the sudden fall, Adolphus nonetheless fought back, resisting Blaine's probe and reaching for the dirk at his belt. The knight planted the palm of his hand against the prince's forehead and slammed him back against the floor.

Dazed, Adolphus wavered on the edge of consciousness and Blaine managed to force his way through the shields and probe deeply into Adolphus' mind.

"Sir Blaine? Stop!" Donan rushed towards the pair only for one of the shocked guards to draw his sword – perhaps mistaking the count's actions for support of his vassal - and Donan screamed as the blade smashed down upon his shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Blaine ripped deeper into Adolphus' mind, knowing he was condemning the man to an ugly death, but needing not only to know the truth but also every scrap of energy he could draw.

Cousin! His mind soared out, reaching out far beyond the city of Beldour. *Cousin, beware! The Festils know of the Council! They know -!*

Rough hands tore him away from Adolphus and Blaine gasped with pain as a heavy gauntlet was driven into his gut. "You! You're the one!"

I should've asked Donan to set a death-trigger for me, Blaine realised. But who would have thought then...? His aura blazed with silver around him and with the energy he had left he kindled flames upon his own clothes.

The soldiers released him with startled oaths as shirt and breeches blazed and Blaine shrieked as he felt his flesh scorching. Falling to his knees he seized the dirk Adolphus had carried.

"Stop him!"

Blaine put the blade against his carotid and felt the cold metal briefly. Then with a convulsive heave he plunged the sharp metal though his flesh.

Forgive me, God. I know suicide is a sin, he prayed as the pain reached him. I'm sorry Lord Donan; you deserved a more loyal knight than I...

Next Chapter

[Evie]

Wow, and that's just the first chapter!     Can't wait to read more!

[Jerusha]

Magnificent!  Though I am sorry to lose Blaine so soon. What more do you have in store..

I can hardly wait