"Give me a day, just a day, and we will all go," Alik said
"I am leaving in twelve hours," Margrave said. He slid his sword back into its sheath and turned back around. He helped Lady Sexton to her feet and they both left.
"What have you done?" Avelina asked.
"The only thing that I could do."
EAMON HAD ONLY ONE part of his plan that he needed to complete before anything else.
He needed to find the soldiers that Alik told him about. Once he found them, he would be able to formulate a better suited plan for their forces. From there, he hoped that he would be able to take the Prince down and he knew that a fractured court would tear itself apart and he would only have to stand by and watch.
It sounded so simple, and he could only hope that it worked according to his plan. If it didn't, if they were found out before, if any of the million things went wrong, then his plan could be forgotten. They crept to the sand dunes and up the cliff going through switchbacks and eventually ending up in the back of a large gathering of trees.
Milet looked at him and Eamon could see it in his eyes as well as hear it in his own thoughts: this all seemed too easy.
But there was nothing for Eamon to do about it. He had no explanation, and there was no way that word could have gotten to the Prince here on Storm Isle that they were coming.
Or that's what he kept telling himself anyway. The large gathering of trees that they crept through shielded them from the moon high above. Eamon could feel it like a hand on the back of his neck; cold, clammy, with sharp nails digging into his skin.
They were walking into a trap.
When Eamon pulled his sword from his belt, there was no cause for it, but his instincts told him to do so and he never ignored them. When he pulled his sword free, the others did as well and behind him were thirty well armed men and next to him was one of the finest soldiers he had ever had the pleasure of fighting next to.
It made no sense that here, where he grew up, he felt dread growing deep inside of him like he never had before.
Then the trees all around them lit up with fiery arrows, and Eamon knew that they walked headlong into a trap.
Eamon heard the pounding of hooves first and then he was swinging his sword like he never had before. Any that were not dressed like them, in the familiar purple capes, and who were on horseback, Eamon showed no mercy to. The others took his lead, and began fighting for their lives.
When it was all over, Eamon stood with his back to Milet's. They were surrounded by horses that were circling them. Other than the two of them, it didn't seem that anyone else had survived.
Eamon hoped that Alik would forgive him for his foolishness and that he would be able to win back the Storm Isles for his sisters.
He hoped for a great many things when he saw Prince Raulyn stepped through an opening when the horses parted.
The flames were at his back and it was like he stepped from the underworld and brought a nightmare with him. His hair was braided still and he was smirking. He wore fine clothes and Eamon hated that he recognized the stitches from his own tailor. A crown sat on Raulyn's head and it looked vaguely familiar.
Eamon thought he would be sick when he realized it was Edmond's crown.
"Did King Alik not getting his invitation?" Prince Raulyn asked.
"He was otherwise engaged," Eamon replied.
Prince Raulyn didn't reply, but he did look around at the men that Eamon and the others had taken down.
"You are quite the nuisance. I was hoping that I would be able to negotiate with King Alik instead of dealing with one of your bloody messes."
"If you come a bit closer, I will be happy to send him the message," Eamon offered and brandished his sword.
Prince Raulyn looked unimpressed. "You lack your husband's wit," he remarked.
"I suppose we all have our shortcomings," Eamon admitted.
"Drop your sword, and we can take you in peacefully. You'll have the accommodations for royalty until your execution," Prince Raulyn offered.
"I hope you don't think that will actually work," Eamon said, feeling slightly offended.
Prince Raulyn sighed. "I had hoped so. I don't like losing men, training new ones has become such a burden."
"When you don't know what you are doing, a job does become a burden." Eamon agreed.
Prince Raulyn sneered at Eamon before turning his back to him. "Take them. I don't care by what means, as long as they are alive."
Eamon and Milet fought the others off as hard as they could but there were so many more of the Vresal and only the two of them.
One of the last things that Eamon remembered were fists striking him and seeing Milet’s bruised and bloody body being tossed over the back of a horse.
Eamon could not tell if he was still alive, but he prayed for Milet’s life and for his own.
Chapter 15
They set sail that very night.
Alik did not care for it, not at all. It felt worse than being underprepared, it felt like they were children walking into a lion's den. He had no way to get word to Eamon and he worried that what they were about to do, without his knowledge, could undermine everything that they had worked for so far.
But seeing the look on Lady Sexton and Margrave's faces was enough to spur him to action. There was also the fact that Lambin was one of his own. This would be the boy that they would raise to a man to take over and rule over their kingdoms.
It was more than that, of course. He had known the boy since he was an infant. And even if Alik and Lady Sexton had had their differences over the years, that did not mean that Alik didn't care for Lambin. In fact, he cared a great deal. He needed to see that he was safe, not just for the welfare of their state, but also so that his own mind could be put at ease.
The plan was to find tLambin and come home. Alik knew better than anyone, however, that plans like this often went wrong. He tried to keep his thoughts to himself, but Avelina seemed to be able to read him as easily as she could read her own brother.
She approached him as they set sail, as Heaven gathered around them, and the night sky twinkled above them. "Would you like to talk about what's on your mind?"
Alik didn't have the words to put into what he was thinking. His stomach was in knots and his thoughts were in turmoil. He shook his head.
If it were anyone else, they would probably wander away. But Avelina stayed by his side with the night sky above them, and took his hand in hers. The silence that prevailed around them was comforting, in a way. There wasn't a need to fill it with any unnecessary words.
After a long moment Alik turned to Avelina. "This is much more than just about Lambin," he said.
Avelina nodded but kept her face turned towards the sea. "I know that. I would like to believe that we all know that."
"It's much more than even about your brother," he added.
She nodded. It was about fighting for their home, their people, and everything that they left behind.
Alik didn't want to say it, that they were putting all of that, and thousands of lives, on the line for one young boy.
"Well, you can bet that Margrave and Lady Sexton will not ever let that boy out of their sight again," Avelina said.
"He will be well into an old age before he is allowed to go anywhere alone,” Alik said. It was an attempt at humor, but neither one of them was in the mood to laugh.
They had no plan, and all they had was a bit of hope.
WHEN EAMON OPENED HIS eyes, he wasn't surprised to find himself in a cell.
He laughed when he looked around.
"I don't see what's so amusing," Milet said from the cell next to him. The cells were separated by iron bars so it was easy for Eamon to look over and see Milet, sat up against a wall, without his weapons or the cape that signaled him the general was Eamon's army.
Eamon looked around once more. "I believe this is the same cell I was in the night that the Vresal took over the islands."
Milet stared at him,
or at least Eamon thought he did, since there was barely any light to see anything in the dank cells.
"I still fail to see what is so amusing about our situation."
Eamon laughed again. He didn't actually see what was so amusing either. There plan failed in the most spectacular manner and he was right back where it all started. He laughed, to keep himself from losing his mind.
There was no one here to rescue him this time, and there would be no one coming. Not anyone capable of rescuing him anyway. Not in time.
He thought suddenly back to when Alik had rescued him, with his wolves at his back and courage surrounding him like a halo.
Maybe he was wrong. Eamon hoped he was wrong.
Because if this is where he would die, he did not know what would happen to his lands, his family, or Alik.
The laughter died in his throat and Eamon had to consider what their next move could possibly be.
LAMBIN WATCHED FROM the shadows of the trees. He was high up in the branches, like Avelina taught him to do if there was ever any trouble.
Once he saw Prince Raulyn's soldiers, and how many there were, Lambin knew that getting on Eamon's boat and stowing away was probably the worst idea of his very young life. War was worse than what anyone could have possibly explained to him. He could only watch for a few minutes as Prince Raulyn's men cut through Eamon's men and then the Prince himself stepped through the horses like he was a legitimate heir to the throne.
Only Eamon and Milet remained standing. Lambin studied the Prince and tried to memorize every detail about him. He had long hair like Eamon, but unlike Eamon, it was an ashy blonde. And also unlike Eamon, Prince Raulyn wore cruelty like it was a badge of honor. Lambin knew that wasn't true and knew that kindness and courage were far better traits to have in a man.
Even from his faraway perch Lambin could sense how cold and awful the man was. He didn't want to get any closer but almost left his hiding spot when he saw how the men ganged up and attacked Eamon and Milet. They were both tossed over the backs of horses and then they were gone.
Lambin was left all alone in a field full of dead bodies, men that he learned to fight alongside with. Some of them resented him and some of them tolerated him. But some of them were very kind and gracious to him and not just because he was next in line to the throne. Some of them were just good men for the sake of being good. They were like Eamon and his brother.
When Lambin was able to pry his hands free from the tree trunk and slide down to the ground, there was no one left in the field.
No one alive, anyway.
Lambin stared around at the remains of everyone that lay at his feet. It smelled of blood and death. The dying fire from the flaming arrows lit his way as he stumbled past the dead bodies and turned east, where Eamon was heading. He knew nothing of these islands and wished he studied harder under Avelina's guidance.
But wishing wouldn't get him anywhere. He had to figure out where he needed to go and what he needed to do next.
He had to guess that his parents knew that he was gone. What they would do next, Lambin could not guess at either.
But knowing his mother and his father, they might be setting sail for him right now.
Upon seeing Prince Raulyn, Lambin wondered if Eamon and Milet would survive that long. The winds may die, it may take them longer to arrive, and what if Lambin was the only one on the island that could help them?
A wind picked up blowing from the ocean. It was warm and Lambin tried to take comfort in that.
Then he heard the growling.
Lambin was familiar with that sound. He heard it plenty of times when he was playing with Kane. Kane would pounce and pretend that he was going to attack. However, the huge wolf would never hurt him. The closest he had come was clamping his giant jaws around Lambin's arm to keep him from the fire in the kitchens.
Lambin remembered Eamon's advice, in the event that Lambin would ever meet another one of his wolves.
He went still. Running meant that you were a meal and you did not want that. Grown men could not fight off the wolves of Storm Isles and Lambin was no man.
Slowly, Lambin turned and faced the wolf that was growling at him.
Except it was not a single wolf, but several. The flames from the dying arrows were reflected in their eyes. Lambin spread his hands open in front of him and when the biggest one, a female with gray and white for stepped forward, the growl in her chest grew louder.
Perhaps Eamon's only hope was going to be eaten by one of his own wolves, Lambin thought.
He closed his eyes, afraid to see what would happen next. He did not want to see the blood, he had seen enough to last him a lifetime. Instead the growl faded away and the wolf pressed her great, wet nose into his open palms. Then she pressed her whole head into his chest and knocked him backwards. When Lambin opened his eyes all he saw was teeth.
This is it, Lambin thought. Instead he felt her warm, wet tongue against his cheek and his neck. Then the other wolves, three more of them, approached and began sniffing at him and then taking great gulping breaths of his clothes in his hair.
Lambin thought he was dreaming. Maybe the gods had taken him early so that he would not have to see how horrible his own death would be. Then he heard the whispers behind the wolves. When he looked up there was a boy there, about his age, wearing tattered clothing and watching Lambin with great, wondering eyes.
"Who are you?" The boy asked.
The boy stepped forward towards the wolves, without fear, and pushed past them. He reached down and pulled Lambin to his feet. Lambin stood in front of the other, still trembling from his brush with the wolves and their inexplicable behavior. He cleared his throat and finally found his words once more.
"My name is Lambin. I am heir to the throne, next in line after King Eamon and King Alik. Will you help me?" Lambin asked.
The boy regarded him for a long moment and then nodded. "Come with me."
"DO YOU HAVE A PLAN?" Alik asked as he approached Margrave's back.
Margrave was facing the direction of the Storm Isles. He had barely spoken to anyone including Lady Sexton. Alik knew that his cousin had a streak of cruelty that rivaled even his own. Alik was worried about what this would do to Margrave and what else Margrave could possibly act upon.
His silence was probably the most terrifying part. Margrave barely let a time go by without a smart comment or some kind of input. Now, he barely spoke to anyone and his face was a mask that no one could read.
"I plan to get my son," Margrave said softly.
"By what means?" Alik asked. He watched Margrave grip the rail with his hands.
"By any means necessary," Margrave replied.
Alik wanted to say something, anything. He did not know how to comfort a parent whose child was lost. He was not a parent himself, and it felt like hypocrisy to comfort Margrave when they both knew perfectly well that Lambin could long be dead or for worse.
Alik shook the line of thought from his head and focused on his cousin. Since Alik’s own brother died, Margrave had taken up that spot in his life. It did not fit him, not by any means. But Margrave was there in ways that Alik could not describe. They had spent many long nights together speaking of how they would change things when they ruled.
And yet here they were, sailing on towards a foreign land to commit atrocities for one boy.
Alik thought of his father. Had he been driven to kill as many of the invading army as he could, when his son and daughter were murdered? Did he have any right? When did the killing stop?
Alik remembered suddenly how Eamon had accused him of just using him for war, just like Eamon's own father before him. Alik could see now that the path they were on would only lead to more and more destruction and more and more blood on their hands. But he didn't know how to stop it or even redirect their path.
Because he would not stop Margrave from harming or killing anyone if they had done something to Lambin.
Alik hated that part of himself, that wanted reve
nge, that sought out those to hurt him only to hurt them back, sometimes even worse.
He didn't know –
Alik stopped himself and put a hand on Margrave's shoulder.
"Whatever it is that you need to do, I will be here for you," Alik said. The tension in Margrave's shoulders eased a bit but he did not turn around.
"This could mean worse for the kingdom. This could mean a longer war for Eamon."
"I know that. And once Eamon finds out what has happened in his absence he will agree with what I have said. We have more at stake than just Lambin's life, that's true. But we still have Lambin's life at stake."
Margrave turned and looked at Alik over his shoulder.
"Eamon would like you all to believe that he goes to fight for only a noble cause. For his country. For his people. For his throne. But that's not all it is. Eamon goes to avenge his parents, my parents. He goes to seek destruction on those that killed his brother. He knows, better than most, the need to protect your family. And I believe that he knows the helplessness that you feel. Not to the same extent, but I believe he knows. And if there is anything that Eamon does, it's that he fights for those who cannot fight for themselves."
“They should pray that Eamon finds them before I do, if they have taken him. Death by his sword will be much quicker than what Emelina or I will dream up,” Margrave said.
“I am sure of it. But put away thoughts of torture for now. I need you to think of what we will do when we arrive. I need that cold, calculating strategy that is all yours. Give us a plan so that we might find Lambin.”
Margrave pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.
LAMBIN HAD NEVER BEEN around so many children his own age. The fever that took most of the children his age spared him, but took his grandparents. In all the castle and in all the village, Lambin was the only child he knew of his own age. Lately he saw more infants and babies, but no one he knew that he could converse with.
A Warrior's Return (The Royal Houses of Sea and Snow, #3) Page 12