The Rogue Trilogy

by Elizabeth Carlton

  Before Levee had time to answer, the words “Your Highness” shifted the prince’s attention. He launched to his feet as Rayhan jogged over, and Levee didn’t miss the drawn out sigh and grim resignation that swallowed Jaycent’s demeanor.

  “Prince,” Rayhan bowed, panting from his frantic search up and down the castle halls. “Three bands of mimics were spotted moving toward the city. I have patrols gathering at the gates of the castle as we speak. We must go now if we are to track them. I want a better understanding of these creatures’ intentions before we react.”

  Levee glanced back and forth between the two faces of nobility, waiting for some hint as to what her role in all of this would be. She knew how to ride, but not how to fight. Would she still be expected to take up arms and join their mission?

  Jaycent placed a hand on her back. “Come, Levee. We have a patrol to run.”

  * * * * *

  Armored trainees gathered on the front lawn together, looking more like soldiers than the feisty youth Levee had met one month before. The ground was still moist with the remains of last night’s rain, causing hooves to leave deep prints in the saturated ground. Levee noted the mist growing at the edges of the pines.

  She knew what it was like to travel through Nevaharday’s famous fogs. They always came after a rain, and served as both a friend and foe to travelers on perilous roads.

  Such factors didn’t deter the new riders’ enthusiasm though. Anxiousness was masked behind the thrill of their first real scouting mission and the handful of seasoned fighters joining them only fueled their excitement. Levee scanned the masses for a familiar sight and found her war mount, Joust, tethered next to Arelee’s mare. She made a beeline for the sturdy stallion, her arms wrapping around the horse’s neck as she looked him in the eye.

  “I hope you’re ready for this,” she murmured before transitioning into her telepathic speech. Because I’m not.

  You have to be, Joust replied matter-of-factly. This is our big test. We’ve been training for this all our lives.

  No, you have, she countered. I’ve only been training for a couple of weeks.

  Joust’s ears pricked. Oh, right. He rubbed his head against her shoulder. But you’re doing so well!

  Levee sighed. Though she stood among familiar company, she felt incredibly out of place. Although Arelee assured her all horse masters, and mistresses, served with the cavalry in expeditions like this, Levee didn’t feel equipped for the job. Even when traveling hazardous roads as a gypsy, she had never held a blade. What purpose could she serve in all of this?

  Murmurs dwindled into silence when the prince joined their party astride his famous black unicorn. Jaycent’s solemn countenance sobered every member of the assembled company. He had shed his silk ensemble for a thick tunic, well-worn boots, and an empty hilt.

  A lieutenant rode toward the prince, one arm stuffed with His Highness’ armor and effects. Jaycent dismounted, took the items without a word, and began to put them on.

  Arelee strode up next to Levee, a brand new set of armor and short sword tucked beneath her arm as well. Noticing her apprentice’s hesitation, Arelee insisted, “Trust me, you’ll want these.”

  Embarrassed, the gypsy whispered, “Mistress, I don’t know how to fight.”

  “Then you’ll really want these,” Arelee shoved the leather gauntlets and chain mail into Levee’s empty arms. “Put them on.”

  Typical to her learn-it-yourself fashion, the horse mistress didn’t instruct Levee on how or why. Instead, she mounted her mare and set out to join the general at the front of the ranks. She crossed paths with the prince along the way, ignoring his nod.

  Jaycent smirked, but otherwise let the moody mistress’ insult slide. He focused on his own group, making sure everyone was prepared. Walking from rider to rider, he checked to make sure all of them were dressed and armed accordingly while imparting words of encouragement. Finally, his rounds led him to Levee who stood with a pile of armor in her arms and an overwhelmed expression on her face.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked. Levee fiddled with the awkward load, setting most of it on Joust’s saddle as she tried to make sense of a heavy chain link vest.

  “Overall, Your Highness? Not so well.”

  Jaycent took the pile in her arms and set it upon Joust’s saddle. “Relax. All of this equipment is more precaution than necessity. Stay close to me and you will be fine.”

  “Confident of your prowess?” she laughed nervously. “I hope it’s well placed.”

  “I saved your life once, didn’t I?” he mused. Levee shook her head. She tried to mirror his bravery, but her body language betrayed her. The gypsy’s hands shook, causing the chain mail to jingle softly as she held it up.

  Jaycent took the chain links from her grasp. “Raise your arms.”

  Levee raised her arms above her head, allowing Jaycent to slip the heavy chainmail shirt over her chest. A leather cuirass was then layered on top, the prince fitting it using small straps that ran along the tunic’s sides.

  Jaycent’s fingers worked methodically, tightening each piece with the ease of someone who had done this countless times. He strung a leather belt around her waist and Levee felt heat rise to her cheeks as Jaycent attached a hilt she could have easily figured out on her own. Trainees’ eyes burned against her back and she could sense the winks and knowing nods exchanged behind her.

  Levee knew Jaycent’s attention to her safety wasn’t a selfless act. The prince had been saddled with her as his partner, which would prove to be more work than benefit. Rayhan nodded his approval to Jaycent when he saw the prince making certain Levee was properly equipped.

  With a quick tug on her belt, the prince finally said, “There, all set.”

  Levee started to gather Joust’s reins in her grasp when His Highness caught her by the wrist. Stealing her attention for a moment longer, he offered up a few words of encouragement. “This is a scouting mission, Levee. We aren’t looking for trouble. We are only surveying our grounds.

  “Should any fighting break out, I want you to take cover and wait.” When Levee scowled, Jaycent’s tone grew more stern. “That is a command, not a suggestion. As of right now, you are trained to facilitate our horses, not participate in combat. Understood?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Satisfied, the prince turned his attention to Diego where he began fitting the steed with his own set of leather armor. Levee admired the way Jaycent slipped so comfortably into the role of a leader. The soldiers watched their prince closely, drinking in his courage and self-discipline like calves after their mother’s milk.

  “Could you be more obvious?”

  Levee looked to her right, and her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw Kotu. The audacious soldier leered down at her from his mount, which still looked as high-strung as ever. “I would bet money that’s not the first time those arms have been around you,” he winked. “I wonder how your Sarrokian will feel when I tell him?”

  Kotu’s presence was enough to shake Levee, who hadn’t forgotten their last encounter in the streets of Nevaharday. His taunts made Levee want to smack the grin right off his face.

  Oh, go fall off your horse, she thought to herself.

  Those silent words resounded louder than she expected. Kotu’s mount snapped her head back into his nose. The rider swayed, stunned, and the mare’s back legs kicked the air in a violent buck that sent Kotu flying to the ground. Levee’s jaw dropped as she stared at the smug paint wearing an empty saddle.

  Don’t thank me, the paint snorted. I’ve been waiting to do that all day.

  “Kotu!” It was the general’s voice. The company laughed as the mud-sodden soldier thrust himself to his feet. He looked up to find the general glaring down at him from his mount. “I’ve warned you about taking that paint into the field. One unruly mount can get the whole company killed. Take her back to the stable immediately. If you don’t return upon a more disciplined mount before our departure, we’re leav
ing you behind.”

  Kotu aimed a vengeful glare at Levee through sopping bangs; a look that didn’t sit well with Joust. The horse’s ears went back and he snapped his teeth toward the rider’s arm. Kotu scrambled backward, suspicious of both horses targeting him like an enemy. His eyes grew, and then narrowed as he pinned it all on Levee.

  “Horse witch!” Kotu spat over his shoulder, a common habit thought to ward off magic.

  Levee looked around at the others in alarm. Everyone in the company sat utterly speechless as they stared at Levee’s bewildered expression. Questions lingered in their eyes, and the gypsy knew their view of her had tilted.

  The phrase “horse witch” repeated in her mind, but she held her chin high, determined not to cower beneath the company’s inspection. Levee couldn’t claim responsibility for the horses’ actions. They acted upon their own free will, even if those acts complimented her own feelings.

  Jaycent glowered. “At attention, soldiers!”

  “We need every eye and ear focused on mapping these creatures’ whereabouts,” General Mendeley spoke, gaining the ears of everyone present. “You will travel in groups of five. I want numbers, locations, and reasons for their trespassing. Approach their camps covertly and gather as much information as possible without being seen.”

  Rayhan nudged his dun mare into an easy pace back and forth. “I expect all of you to return before nightfall. When you do, be ready for a fight.” Glancing up at the rain clouds forming over the mountains, the general’s jaw stiffened. “I have a foul hunch some of you will hear the ring of steel before this night is over.”

  Levee found no comfort in the general’s forewarnings. Rayhan was renowned for his battle instincts.

  “A few of you have been chosen to investigate the two camps already disclosed to us,” he continued. “I would like a moment with those riders. The rest of you may depart.”

  Gravity claimed the cavalry’s faces and all of them shouted “Aye!” in unison.

  The humidity lessened as the bulk of the soldiers took up their march. Levee assumed a position next to Arelee as the remaining riders tightened their gathering into a close knit semi-circle in front of General Mendeley. She leaned toward the mistress and whispered. “Have you done this before?”

  “Of course,” Arelee looked bored, as if assignments like these were nothing out of the ordinary. “If my horses go into battle, I go with them.”

  “So you fight?”

  “When I have to, but no one here is expecting you to fight,” the mistress stressed. “What we need is your eyes. You are as good as the rest of us when it comes to scouting. His Highness will have your back if things get messy.”

  “Ladies,” the general barked. The females rose to attention, lips sealed. “I hope you caught those last few lines, because I won’t be repeating them.”

  “Clear as glass, General,” Arelee assured. Rayhan turned to Levee.

  “We heard every word,” she agreed. Jaycent arched a doubtful brow, but galloping hooves diverted everyone’s attention as Kotu returned on a large bay pulled from Arelee’s new stock.

  The mistress frowned and mumbled something about it being too good of a horse for the arrogant rider, and she wasn’t the only one expressing her disdain. The prince smirked when the general directed Kotu into His Highness’ group.

  Levee winced.

  “Let us be off,” Rayhan’s attention drifted toward the darkening skies over the mountain peaks, disturbed by the thunderheads swelling in the distance. They growled menacingly. “The night won’t wait for us.”

  The Master of Illusions

  Perhaps it was Rayhan’s haunting warnings, but Levee sensed a threat that grew more ominous the closer her party drifted toward the mountains. She glanced at the other four in her group. Kotu, in particular, wore a broad smile that did little to reassure her. She tore her eyes away from the smug brute and trotted her gelding closer to the prince, hoping to gain some insight as to where they were headed.

  According to His Highness, their foes set camp in a copse across from Dragon’s Mist Lake; a body of water known for the thick cloud that hovered over its crystalline waters all year around. It didn’t make sense to Levee. The shores of Dragon’s Mist belonged to Skalabur, the unicorn king who was feared by every Abysmal incarnation.

  The prince mirrored her grim expression as he considered the course in front of them. He hadn’t voiced his concerns just yet, but the location of their foe’s camp struck him as peculiarly dimwitted.

  The grasses gradually thinned into more rocky terrain as they neared the mountain range, and Jaycent signaled a halt, then a dismount. Cicadas hummed an evening chorus, drowning out the sound of boots hitting the ground. Jaycent took a few steps forward and knelt, observing the many tracks imprinted in the dirt. This was a high traffic area where most of the horned herds came to drink, and he recognized the whole and cloven tracks that distinguished the numerous breeds known to the area.

  What didn’t match were the three-toed footprints leading into the lake’s thick cloud. Jaycent wrapped his fingers around the hilt on his hip and stared into the gray mists.

  “Where are the herds?” Levee whispered. She, too, had crouched to observe what the ground could tell them. Reading the prints with a nomad’s eye, she noted the only fresh tracks were those belonging to the mimics.

  Years of traversing the wildlands made Levee privy to the behavior of wild equines. “No monster should have been able to get this close to the lake without being confronted. The unicorn herds are jealous protectors of this body of water.”

  Diego shared that sentiment. He brushed past the prince and toward the mists, horn poised and ears back as he followed the footprints into the hazy veil.

  “Guide the soldiers and their horses around the mist and take cover at the forest’s edge,” the prince commanded Levee. “I will follow Diego and see what he finds.”

  Levee nodded and returned to the riders where she relayed the prince’s message. Jaycent turned back to the mists, lowering himself down onto his belly. With elbows bent, he crawled after the hooves that preceded him until the fog engulfed his body, concealing his movements. Hearing the unicorn ahead of him, the prince whispered Diego’s name so the stallion wouldn’t mistake him as an enemy.

  “Stay behind me,” the unicorn cautioned. “I will tell you when it’s safe to rise.”

  Jaycent wondered what Diego meant by that. Ahead, he could hear the water lapping against the shore, breaking the eerie silence that swallowed the otherworldly feel of this lake. What the unicorns deemed as sacred held a different ambiance for the prince.

  Haunted felt like a better term. The hairs on the back of his neck rose on end and there was a tingling in the air, like the presence of something that existed beyond the confines of flesh and blood.

  Diego snorted once, then again, his voice escalating into a defiant neigh that pierced Jaycent’s sensitive ears. Clicks and growls carried over the still waters from the far shore. Jaycent crawled into Diego’s shadow, his arms and legs mimicking the careful sway of a gator on the prowl. His eyes were useless. Over the lake’s surface, the mist thickened until it was nearly impossible to see through.

  “Keep low,” Diego warned. His silver eyes glowed against the blinding fog, telling Jaycent that the unicorn was calling upon his innate magic to see beyond nature’s barrier. “At least a score of mimics, possibly more, congregate on the other side of the lake.”

  “Did they make camp there?” Jaycent asked, wondering if this was even the same group they were scouting, or if another band had wandered into the area.

  “Nay,” the unicorn replied. “They seem to be gathering water.” More cries echoed over the aquatic surface, and Diego pawed the sand in aggravation. His breath came out in swirling clouds.

  “Can you distract them?” the prince inquired.

  “Oh, I can do more than that,” the angry stallion promised.

  “I need a clear run to the woods on the right.”


  Diego’s silky neck arched in a firm nod. “Consider it done.” His silver-moon eyes gleamed through crimped tufts of mane, their strands glittered with flecks of dew. “I will chase them off and seek out my sire. Skalabur will know why the herds no longer guard this place.”

  The prince nodded. “Meet us back at the forest’s edge across from the lake when you are finished. It shouldn’t take us long to uncover the purpose behind their camp.”

  Diego raised his front legs in a series of furious swipes, their motion emphasized by a war cry that echoed over the rippling waters. The mimics on the opposite shoreline fell silent as the monsters held their breath. The unicorn wheeled right, his back legs launching into action. Sand burst into the air, flung by the momentum of his powerful legs. The monsters yelped as a the silhouette of death flew down upon them and raced for higher ground.

  Jaycent rose and made a dash for the cluster of treetops seen above the haze to his right. The mist tapered off as he ran, its overwhelming barrier dwindling into a thin sheet near his feet once he reached the trees.

  Unlike the forest the gypsies claimed as their own, the trees here were widely spaced. Jaycent immediately caught sight of his company, their horses tethered unobtrusively behind a natural mound.

  “Where’s Diego?” Levee whispered.

  “Buying us time while he finds out what happened to the herds,” Jaycent replied in a hushed voice. “The camp itself sits a quarter of a mile north of this lake. We will spread out and cover as much as we can. Upon my whistle, we depart immediately for this spot, no exceptions. Am I clear?”

  Everyone nodded, and, with a flick of the prince’s hand, all of the scouts but Levee broke into single parties. They spread out in a silent stalk toward the copse of conifer trees and the slope beyond it that shielded the mimic’s camp from view.

  Jaycent kept Levee close to his side as they drew toward the left edge of the camp. There, a dry trunk leaned over the lip of the ridge, its dead limbs stretched like writhing fingers to grip the packed earth thirty feet across.