The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2)

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The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 46

by C. J. R. Isely


  “I could eat a cow.”

  “You literally just ate two apples. Holding off till lunch isn’t about to kill you.”

  “Yeah, but like I could eat more. I’m not saying I’m hungry, but, if there was a cow and someone offered me a bit of money, I could probably eat the whole thing,” Rowan said, as though this were perfectly logical.

  Colin rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You are ridiculous.”

  Will hid his smile by ducking his head, rummaging through the chest at the foot of his bed. After a moment, he withdrew his black cloak and pulled it over his dark tunic, his fingers fumbling with the fastenings.

  “You okay, Will?” Colin asked, concerned.

  Will nodded, straightening and facing his friends. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Course he will, he’s got us.” Rowan clapped Will on the back.

  They were in the empty squire chamber, the last to leave. Outside, the rays of the morning sun cast brilliant shadows. Will could hear voices in the dinner hall beyond and half wished he could stay inside the squire chamber.

  But Rowan was already striding toward the door and Colin was waiting, jaw set. So, Will walked with them out into the dinner hall and toward the squire table. It was the most silent it had ever been. No one was joking around or telling stories about training. Instead, the squires were grim faced, all shrouded in dark clothing.

  Will immediately spotted Eldin, seated steadfastly in Niet’s chair. Will lowered himself into the empty seat beside her. She gave him the shadow of a grin, which he returned before focusing his attention on the knights table. Serena had pushed herself to her feet, green eyes shadowed and exhausted.

  “Today, we say our farewell to one of the bravest squires Kelkor, or Alamore, has ever known. Niet trained under me for five years in Kelkor, earning his sword, his shield, and his spurs. Had Kelkor not fallen, he would have been a knight by now.” Her voice quavered. Inhaling she continued in a stronger tone, eyes flashing. “Niet was killed by the man who now claims he’s King of Kelkor, by the same man that killed my King. His memory will burn on in our hearts and drive us to never forget what has been taken from us, to never rest until we have settled the scores.

  Now, I ask you to raise your glass in honor of a squire who died with all the honor and bravery of a knight.” Serena lifted her own goblet and each person followed suit. “Niet the Brave.”

  “Niet the Brave.”

  The words resounded around the hall and the memory of Niet’s death flashed before Will’s eyes again, of him lunging for Marl’s back, of Marl killing him to spite Will. His fingers tightened on his goblet as he lowered it to his mouth then set it on the table, staring unseeingly at the knights table.

  “If you would all rise,” King Revlan said, standing and waving an arm toward the door that led off the chamber.

  They did so, chairs scraping over stone in a deafening scream. Next to him, Rowan recoiled, clamping his hands over his ears a moment and grumbling a string of Kelkorian words no doubt taught to him by Niet. Colin grabbed Rowan’s arm and shot him a disapproving look, but Will had to bite down on his smile. It would have made Niet laugh, he was sure. A small snort of laughter made him glance at Eldin again. She was burying her own giggles in her elbow. For the first time in days there was the fire of mischief in her eyes.

  The squires fell into step behind the knights through the door that led off the dinner hall. No one said where they were going but Will already knew–through the Final Farewell and into the graveyard.

  There they would have their chance at saying their goodbyes before the funeral pyre was lit and later Serena, Kalia, and Eldin would ride to the west, to the ocean, and scatter his ashes. Haru had explained it all the night before, taking Will aside so he would be prepared for what was to come.

  “If you don’t want to come, Will, it’ll be alright,” Haru had said, face drawn with concern.

  “I’m coming.” Will hadn’t hesitated. “I want to say my goodbyes. He saved my life, Haru. He’s the reason we were able to get the Ranger out alive too. I…I owe it to him to be there.”

  But now, stepping through the doors and striding down the hallway of the Final Farewell, doubt niggled at the edges of his mind. What would it be like to see Niet one more time? He had an image of death in his mind now, Niet’s cold body, his blood. He wasn’t certain he could do this.

  Next to him, Colin gripped his shoulder in a bracing way and Will saw that the green eyes were overly bright, though his friend’s face was set. He didn’t say anything but gave Will the slightest of nods.

  Then they were stepping through the doors at the end of the Final Farewell, into the brilliant light of the sun. Warmth spread over Will like comfort and, craning to see ahead, his eyes rested on the center of the graveyard.

  A plinth had been erected there, covered in thatch and timbers, with buckets of water surrounding it. Will could see the body lying on the pyre, but it wasn’t the same corpse that had been left in the forest.

  Someone had cleaned the blood from his features, changed him into Kelkor green, and placed the shattered fragments of his sword over his chest. The eyes were closed, the face unmoving, too still to be thought of as sleeping.

  Ahead, Kalia was lightly crying while Haru wrapped one arm awkwardly over her shoulders. Ross’s face was stone though grief flickered in the blue eyes. Laster’s sneer was gone, replaced with an unusual expression of sadness. Serena’s anguish had morphed to that cold fury again, her anger and pain twisting her lips, making her eyes bright even as they became chips of frozen green ice. Will blinked, frowning. The Ranger. Where was the Ranger? He should be here. Niet was saving him, he went there to help save him. At the very least he should be here.

  There. Will saw a shadow at the edge of the graveyard shift, the flutter of a dark cloak. The Ranger was standing away from them, face concealed under his hood, one hand resting on his sword. Like a statue guarding over the grieving group, he didn’t move.

  Will turned away, aware suddenly that the King was speaking, his soothing voice booming around the group.

  “Let us never forget that Niet died to defend others, to save others, and to keep Alamore safe. He embodied all that a Kelkorian knight should ever strive to be. We will mourn his loss, our loss, and celebrate his memory in the time of peace that he helped us to attain. Thornten has agreed to lay aside the blade for a year and a half and, in this time, we shall rebuild, we shall all strive to be stronger, better, more prepared for what the future may bring.”

  Serena stepped toward the pyre, a torch wavering in one shaking hand, and touched the flames to the wood that surrounded Niet’s body. Fire flared to life, igniting the dried timbers, devouring the Kelkor banner and, swallowing Niet from sight. Will heard someone let out a dry sob and had to force himself to stand where he was and not push toward the three Kelkorians. Pain stabbed through his chest and he stared ahead, knowing that Eldin had finally broken.

  ***

  The Kelkor riders left before the Thornten riders appeared. Will was in the barns, grooming down Visra who had finally been cleared for light exercise. He saw the banners of the bronze falcon on the grey backdrop and reached instinctively for his dagger.

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Will.”

  He started, turning. Ross was stepping from the feed room, his own eyes trained on the double doors as well. After a moment he turned to Will. “They’ve come to get the Prince.”

  “Well, they’re welcome to him,” Will grumbled, turning back to Visra. He hadn’t forgotten what the Prince had said but, in light of Niet, of everything else, it seemed unimportant. The Ranger wasn’t going to give him answers either way.

  “It’ll be good for us to have the time to rebuild,” Ross growled. “We’ve been at war or in fighting too long. A year and a half of peace will do well to rebuild.”

  “Year and a half?” Will asked, frowning. “Rowan said the King was asking for two years.”

  Ross laughed coldly. “Tollien isn
’t so easily won over in negotiation. However, even this time will be welcome. The fighting has exhausted us. It’s taken its toll on everyone. Even that horse there.”

  Will nodded and patted Visra’s neck. The bay pinned his ears and reached to nip at Will, which he avoided with long practiced ease, grinning. “Yeah, well, it didn’t change him much.”

  “But it’s changed others,” Ross said calmly.

  His eyes bored into Will, but he refused to meet them, pretending to be more intent on gently cleaning the raw and hairless scar where Visra’s stitches had been. After a moment, Will straightened and met Ross’s stony blue eyes. “We’ll be stronger for it.”

  “Perhaps,” Ross agreed. He hesitated, a frown creasing his forehead. “I hear that horse is about sound to start working again.”

  “Yeah.” Will forced a smile. “So you will be able to take your horse back.” His eyes flitted to Admere’s stall, where the red horse watched them curiously and his chest tightened.

  Ross hummed, coming forward to pat Visra’s shoulder. “I’m not certain now is the time for me to work with another hunt horse. I might do better to get a second warhorse, something a bit bigger, to face whatever Thornten throws at us next.”

  “So, you’ll get rid of Admere?” Will’s heart plummeted. At least if Admere were with Ross he’d get to see him but now…

  “I think that’d be best. At the very least, finding someone who can work him until I’ve got the time for such leisure as hunting.” Ross nodded firmly. He raised his eyebrows at Will, a shadowed smile flitting over his mouth. “That is, of course, if you’re up for handling two animals at once.

  Will gawked at the knight, unable to believe what he was hearing. “M-me, Sir?”

  “I don’t believe I was talking to Visra,” Ross growled but his eyes were bright with a grin.

  “I don’t have money.”

  “I didn’t ask if you did.” Ross shook his head. “I asked if you’d take care of two horses. At least, for the time being.”

  “I, well, yeah, yeah I could do that.” Will grinned.

  “Good.” Ross clapped him on the shoulder, glancing toward the door. “If I’m not mistaken, trouble itself and my squire are heading our way and I’ve just got off a night patrol. I’d rather not deal with them.”

  He was gone before Will had time to thank him, striding out of sight through the doors.

  A moment later Rowan and Colin appeared, breathless from running, Colin’s face bright red while Rowan was howling with laughter.

  “What?” Will asked, laughing too.

  “Colin!” Rowan doubled over, breaking into more laughter.

  “It wasn’t my idea!” Colin said, face reddening still more. “You’re the one who dared me.”

  “But you did it!” Rowan was wheezing. He reached to grab Visra for support but recoiled as the bay took a nip at him. “Thornten, I forgot you’re a dragon.” He straightened, eyes watering from laughter and inhaled deeply. “Colin just tripped the Prince of Thornten, and he fell flat on his face in the courtyard. It was brilliant.”

  Will snorted. “You did?”

  Colin grinned sheepishly, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t really think about it. Just stuck out a foot and…” He clapped his hands, miming someone falling.

  Will broke into laughter, shaking his head. “Alamore, Colin! Rowan’s rubbed off on you!”

  “It’s for the best that I rub off on you two, you both need it. Otherwise you’d walk around thinking you’re better than the world because you don’t break rules or have any fun,” Rowan said decisively.

  “So then,” Will said when he finally stopped laughing. “He’s gone?”

  “Yup.” Rowan nodded. “Him, his father, and his little Cutthroats band are up and out of Alamore and we’ve got a signed peace arrangement where forfeiting the arrangement means they forfeit all alliances. It’s going to be a bit weird though.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, we’ve had fighting and all, it’s always been watching our back and now.” Rowan shrugged. “There’s a respite.”

  “We need it,” Colin said firmly.

  “That we do,” Rowan agreed. “But it’s still weird.”

  “It won’t last.” Will shook his head. “They’ll be back–Tollien, Tabius, Marl. They’ll be back and we’ll all be plunged right back into it all.”

  “Only this time we’re going to be older and cooler and stuff,” Rowan said, smirking. “Like knights or like assassins or like-”

  “Idiots?” Colin supplied innocently.

  Rowan suggested Colin kiss Visra somewhere not only inappropriate but dangerous and they all broke into laughter again. Will leaned against the familiar bay horse, sighing. “Well, we’re going to just have to train as hard as we can for now then, so we’re ready.”

  “Ready to fight Thornten,” Colin agreed.

  “Ready to be awesome,” Rowan corrected.

  Will nodded. In his mind however, he was picturing himself battling Marl. He would have to be ready to fight Marl, Tabius, and Tollien. He’d be ready to fight the war that his bloodlines made him part of, whether he wanted a throne or not.

  “But in the meantime.” Rowan slapped him on the back, grinning. “Who’s down to see Will get thrown off this dragon, eh? I am. I have missed the show.”

  And, laughing and shaking his head, Will turned away, toward the tack room. “Fine, I’ll get him saddled,” he called over his shoulder. The idea of fighting Visra made him feel lighthearted. There were, after all, worse battles than that of a boy and his horse.

  About The Author

  C. J. R. Isely

  C. J. R. Isely was born into the world of her imagination and fiction from the start. It wasn't until the ripe old age of 12 that she found her way into Alamore and the pages of her first full book, Ranger of Kings. In writing - and finishing - this work, she discovered her love for writing. She followed it up with five others in the series that tied in her avid love of medieval history, her fondness for characters who are full of charm, wit, and courage, and topped it off with villains she felt sure everyone would agree they hated.

  Then she did what she probably shouldn't have and set them aside to collect dust as she pursued an education in the actual world. After graduated with a business degree and about ninety four notebooks full of various scribbled ideas, she was undecided on what she wanted to do. In 2019, she decided what she truly needed to do was dive back into the world she'd been missing and review and revise Ranger of Kings.

  This was done in a matter of months and, bounding outside of her comfort zone, she published it in early 2020. Since the release of Ranger of Kings, she has also written a prequel - The Falcon and The Stag - that she offers on her website for free or through Amazon or through Audible. When not working her full time job in the modern world, she writes avidly for the continuation of the series, rides and trains horses, plays guitars, takes on DIY construction projects that she probably shouldn't, and enjoys reading the feedback of her readers.

  She invites you to make sure you never miss an update, book release, or chance to be a BETA reader by subscribing to her website - www.cjrisely.com

  Books In This Series

  William of Alamore Series

  Ranger of Kings

  Training to be a knight isn't fun...

  if you die

  Living as a lowly village boy, Will finds himself thrown into a world he could only dream of when he meets the mischievous son of an influential Lord and a calculating last heir of a powerful Count. Brought to Alamore castle, he can not believe his luck when he is invited to join his two new friends in training to become knights of the realm.

  But training isn't all the grandeur and chivalry he imagined.

  After he and his friends stumble upon a secret set of tunnels beneath the castle that hide a clan of traitors to the crown, they are plunged into new dangers. Their lives are at risk from new threats beneath the fortress while, beyond Alamore's w
alls, alliances crumble and the uneasy peace begins to fracture.

  When fate twists again, Will must face the reality that more than good fortune brought him to Alamore. There are secrets he must uncover, truths he has to find, in order to help keep Alamore from falling into war.

  But the only person who holds the answers that might keep Alamore from falling, that will help him to discover who he is, is a man more dangerous than the tunnels themselves. A man known only as the Ranger of Kings.

  Books By This Author

  Ranger of Kings

  Training to be a knight isn't fun...

  if you die

  Living as a lowly village boy, Will finds himself thrown into a world he could only dream of when he meets the mischievous son of an influential Lord and a calculating last heir of a powerful Count. Brought to Alamore castle, he can not believe his luck when he is invited to join his two new friends in training to become knights of the realm.

  But training isn't all the grandeur and chivalry he imagined.

  After he and his friends stumble upon a secret set of tunnels beneath the castle that hide a clan of traitors to the crown, they are plunged into new dangers. Their lives are at risk from new threats beneath the fortress while, beyond Alamore's walls, alliances crumble and the uneasy peace begins to fracture.

  When fate twists again, Will must face the reality that more than good fortune brought him to Alamore. There are secrets he must uncover, truths he has to find, in order to help keep Alamore from falling into war.

  But the only person who holds the answers that might keep Alamore from falling, that will help him to discover who he is, is a man more dangerous than the tunnels themselves. A man known only as the Ranger of Kings.

 

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