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Larris strode along the northern stretch of Archstone’s city walls, looking out into the distance as if he could see the armies that threatened his kingdom. Somewhere in the distance, Galdora’s forces struggled to hold back the armies of Kyrin, and he was powerless to do anything about it. Orman had left three days earlier, taking with him the bulk of the city’s troops. All that remained was a skeleton force guarding the city, plus a handful of the rawest recruits at the academy. The war was far away, yet he keenly felt his city’s vulnerability. A stiff breeze lent a chill to the cold feeling running down his spine. Something bad was about to happen. He was sure of it.
“I still don’t know what my uncle is playing at,” he said to Allyn, who walked beside him. “Assuming the regency and then immediately leaving the city?”
Allyn ran a hand through his hair. “We know he’s in league with the temple. I can only assume there’s some sort of power grab in the works, but for the life of me I can’t see how taking all the troops south fits in.”
Up ahead, two guards, one tall and dark, the other short and fair, lounged against the parapet. As Larris drew closer, they stood at something close to attention.
“What is this?” Allyn barked. “You do not salute your prince?”
With a slowness bordering on insolence, the two men pressed their fists to their hearts and made awkward bows.
“I’ll have your names,” Allyn said.
“May I ask who you are?” The taller guard’s eyes bored into Allyn. “You aren’t the prince.”
“He’s the man who is going to defenestrate you both if you don’t give him your names,” Larris said, managing to suppress his grin at the sight of the man’s bulging eyes.
The shorter guard spoke up immediately. “It’s Edgar and Marcus. Please forgive me, Highness, but please don’t defenes...whatever that word was. I prefer women, you see.”
Allyn rolled his eyes. “By all the gods. We’re relying on the likes you to protect our city?” He turned to Larris. “We’re doomed.”
Larris ignored the comment though he thought his friend had a point. He turned to the guards. “When guard changes, report to Commander Rayburn for remedial training.”
“Yes, Highness,” they said in unison. Each bowed again and then snapped to attention.
Larris and Allyn continued their walk. When they were out of earshot, Allyn cocked his head. “Don’t you have to have a window in order to defenestrate someone?”
“I think you’re right, but they didn’t know that.” He stopped, turned, and leaned against the parapet. Dark clouds hung low in the distance. “A storm is coming.”
“In more ways than one,” Allyn agreed.
Larris nodded.
“I quit.”
Allyn turned to him and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m finished with this life. I’m going to take Mother, and you if you want to come, and find Shanis. I’ll be her consort, or whatever it is she wants me to be. I deserve to be happy, don’t you think?”
Allyn’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not. I just wanted to say it aloud to try it on for size. A part of me wants it, but I could never do that.”
Allyn let out a slow breath. “I can’t decide if I’m relieved or not. I would give much to be out on the road again. I can’t breathe in the city.” He tugged absently at his collar. “But I would no sooner leave right now than you would. I’ve been sworn to you and your house for as long as I can remember.” He stiffened, his eye wide.
“What is it?”
“Let’s keep walking.” Not waiting for Larris, he turned and strode away. “I just realized something. I think I’ve seen the dark-haired guard before.”
“Where?”
Allyn fixed him with a long, measured look before answering. “At the temple.”
Larris resisted the urge to look back at the two guards. No need to let the men know they’d drawn undue attention to themselves. “If the temple is insinuating itself into the city guard, we need to do something about it. Let’s talk to Rayburn.”
They met with the grizzled commander of the guard in Larris’ private chambers. He knew the fact they were meeting here would draw attention, but at least the trusted guards outside his door would make certain that no prying ears would hear their discussion.
“With so many men of fighting age joining the army, the pickings have been slim for the guard. Mazier took it upon himself to bring in a sizable number of new recruits. I can’t say whether or not they have a connection to the temple.” Rayburn frowned down at his scarred hands. “Forgive me, Highness, but I don’t trust Mazier or Jowan.”
“Neither do I.” Larris turned to gaze out the window at the gray day. The pieces were coming together. Orman was in league with the temple, and Mazier had clearly favored Orman for the regency. The Vizier had now taken the unusual step of recruiting men for the city guard. If he were taking it upon himself to filter men loyal to the temple into the guard, could a coup be in the offing?
Allyn seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “We need to keep you safe, Larris. If we find out that Lerryn is dead, they need only to dispose of you and Orman becomes Jowan’s puppet king. And then how long before the monarchy is set aside in favor of a temple-dominated council?”
“I won’t go into hiding,” Larris said. “I’ll have to rely on you to watch my back.” He turned to Rayburn. “I assume you have a record of which men were brought in by Mazier?”
“Of course.”
“Split them up. Pair as many of them as you can with men whom you know to be loyal and incorruptible, and tell those men to keep an eye on these new recruits. Assign the rest to tasks that won’t afford them opportunities to cause trouble. Keep your ear to the ground for connections any of your men might have to the temple. And turn away any recruits Mazier sends you. Allyn will begin the search for new guards.”
Allyn glanced at him in surprise but did not argue.
“I understand, Highness. I’ll get to it immediately. By your leave?” Rayburn had scarcely risen from his chair when a sharp knock came at the door.
“Enter,” Larris said.
Theron, a sturdily-built veteran guardsman, opened the door. “Your Highness, Master Hierm Van Derin to see you. He isn’t exactly fit to be received, but he insists you will want to see him immediately.”
Larris’ heart pounded double-time. “He is correct. Send him in.”
Van Derin did look a mess. He was covered in trail dust from head to foot, and the dark pouches under his eyes said he sorely lacked sleep. “Your Highness.” He bowed deeply and his knees buckled. He would have fallen on his face had Allyn not caught him around the middle. “Sorry,” he said as Allyn half-carried him to a chair. “I fear I haven’t taken the best care of myself the past few days. Hair and Edrin are with me and they’re not in much better shape.”
“Send for food and water,” Larris said to Allyn. “And an herb woman,” he added. “I don’t trust the healers. Make sure the other two are cared for as well.” He turned back to Hierm. “Tell me everything. Is Lerryn alive?”
Hierm held up a trembling hand. “Time is of the essence. Unless a miracle has happened in the time since we set out for Archstone, you can expect a Kyrinian army to arrive here in a matter of days.”
“How...” Larris began, but Hierm spoke over him.
“They came from the northwest through farm country. Lerryn has theories about how they managed to slip through largely undetected, but that doesn’t matter now. What is important is that you prepare the city’s defenses.”
“The prince is alive, then?” Rayburn asked.
Hierm nodded. “He started out fighting bandits, deserters mostly. He managed to gather a decent-sized force of fighting men. He will do what he can to slow the Kyrinian advance, but slow it is all he will be able to do. It’s a large army. You’ll need every available soldier to man the walls.”
Larris sank into his chair. “We have no soldiers. My uncle took them from the city three days ago.” He pressed his fingertips to his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “What,” he asked, “are we going to do?”