The Heart of the Dragon: The Warrior Prophecy

By Stephen Paul

The powerful dragon Xirdneh has come to the shores of Jenai seeking the key to immortality, and the people inhabiting the land mean nothing to him until Sarily Hensleap, a defiant teenage girl, destroys one of his eyes with a flaming arrow. Caught up in the chaos of war, the Hensleap family is separated in their attempt to flee to safety. For Gareth, five of his ten children are missing. His struggle to protect those that are with him is magnified by his concern for those who aren’t. Fighting against monsters of incredible size and strength, Gareth sets off on a quest to unite and protect his family. His three oldest children, Jake, Edwin, and Sarily, are forced to fend for themselves when their chance to rendezvous with their father is cut off. Ten-year-old twins Jak and Zak find themselves in deeper trouble--partially of their own making--and forced to flee on their own. Dragons, monsters, haunted forests, and cursed cities threaten the family at every turn, but the greatest danger may be the betrayal of one of their own kind. Amidst the chaos and death of war, the Hensleaps fight to find each other and fulfill the destiny spoken of in The Warrior Prophecy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephen Paul
• Release date: Oct 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301869398

Stephen Paul

Stephen was raised in the suburbs of Long Island and now lives with his wife and son in New York City. When not crusading on behalf of the design professional community, he enjoys writing thrillers with a supernatural touch.

Book preview

Prologue

The entire mountain exploded with a thunderous roar. The intensity of the explosion shook the ground for more than half of the continent. What few trees remained near the blast zone were toppled by the shock wave. The flash was so bright it lit the night sky with the power of a thousand suns. What had been a calm night suddenly turned into a bright and deadly day. From the epicenter of the explosion, devastation radiated outward.

Any living thing unfortunate enough to be looking in the direction of the mountain when it blew was instantly blinded by the searing flash. Chunks of rock and ice were hurtled in all directions, becoming missiles of deadly intent. Death rained down for hours after the explosion. A massive wave of super-heated air swept outward from the blast and incinerated everything in its path for miles. The destruction came without warning and spared nothing.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it was over. Night returned, more silent than before and infinitely darker. It seemed as if the moon and the stars had been blown away by the explosion. The darkness was impenetrable even as night turned to day. Ash began to fall at daybreak, or, rather, what should have been daybreak. The never-ending darkness continued for weeks as the ash fall continued without mercy. Anything and everything within fifty miles of the blast zone was buried in nearly forty feet of ash. Nothing near the mountain survived.

It was more than a month before Xirdneh could see well enough to inspect the damage. Smoke still billowed from the mountain. It was impossible to determine how many of the Nuk-luk or his own kind had become victims of the volcano. Not that Xirdneh would weep for them anyway. He found himself suddenly envious of the power displayed by the volcano. That much destruction in so short a time would certainly cause enemies to cower in fear. Xirdneh chuckled at the thought of it.

As he came closer to the site of the billowing smoke, Xirdneh realized for the first time the true power of the eruption. Where once had stood a giant rocky behemoth amongst a sea of towering mountains now was nothing but a huge crater. The blast had completely destroyed the mountain, along with the two peaks closest to it. Xirdneh marveled again at nature’s raw power. The endless spires and towering peaks of the various mountain ranges had ringed his homeland for centuries. In one breath, nature’s forces had ripped a huge hole in what had previously been an impenetrable wall.

As Xirdneh moved past the column of smoke he was anxious to finally see what lay beyond the towering peaks that had marked his prison all his life. He had never really thought of his land as a prison until now. He looked beyond the smoke and passed the mountains and gasped at what he found. Water. For as far as the eye could see in every direction. Vast expanses of water. Xirdneh smiled to himself as pieces began to come together in his mind.

Perhaps these mountains were not as impenetrable as we thought, he said to himself. After all, he was alone. Perhaps, you found a way, old friend. But you can’t hide forever, Palisar. I will find you.

Xirdneh turned and went back the way he had come. There was much work to be done, and it was time for the Nuk-luk to start paying on the debt he was owed. After all his preparations, all his planning, all his waiting, it was finally time to exact his revenge and ascend to his rightful place. Vengeance was again within his reach, but the instrument of its implementation had just changed. He needed boats.

Three Years Later . . .

Chapter 1: Don’t Bet on It

The sun beat down on Gareth’s back as he dug in the spot his son had indicated. The summer seemed to Gareth to be hotter than usual for this time of year, but the heat didn’t bother the big man much. Neither did the digging. He’d been working this land for close to thirty years, and for a man in his mid-fifties Gareth was about as physically powerful as any man half his age. Sweat glistened on his brow, and slicked his thinning black hair which now held more grey than its original color. His vibrant blue eyes still held their youthful intensity though. He dug quickly, using his right leg to plunge the shovel’s blade into the damp soil and his thick shoulders to pull the loose dirt from the ground where his son was pointing. Gareth smiled to himself as his son supervised his work. To an outsider, the situation would seem backwards-a twelve year old boy telling his father where to dig and to be careful not to dig too deep too fast. But physical labor was not his son’s forte, and Gareth was happy to do the hard labor in order to encourage the boy’s talent.

The terrain around Gareth’s homestead was all rolling hills and vast meadows that gradually made their way down the slopes of the vast Barrier Mountains. Gareth had placed his home on a flat stretch of prime farmland an hour’s ride from the capital city of Jenai, a gift from the king for heroic deeds done what seemed like a lifetime ago. The country itself was isolated from the rest of the world. With the huge mountain range that stretched along the eastern and northern borders and the ocean that encircled the rest of the land, Jenai was almost completely cut off from foreigners.

The forests that dominated the countryside were evergreens, consisting mostly of large pines. The trees were tall and skinny, packed close together making the hilly wilderness difficult to negotiate. Gareth and his family lived adjacent to one of the streams that branched off from the country’s main river that flowed down from the mountains. Jenai City was situated next to this main river, which ran the length of the country from the mountains to the ocean. The underground pipe Gareth and his son, Rowan, were trying to fix connected that small stream to their house.

Be careful not to get too close, Pop. We don’t want to damage the pipe any more if we can help it.

Are you sure this is where the problem is? Gareth asked as he shoveled another load of dirt. I’ve still got to fix the fence in the chicken coup before it gets too dark. If I remember right, this pipe goes for about 75 feet to the well. That’s a lot of digging if you’re wrong.

Trust me, Pop, his son replied with a smile. You see how the grass is a little greener here than it is up and down the line? We haven’t had rain in a week and a half. This has got to be where the leak is.

‘You’re sure you can fix it with mud and your brother’s shirt? Gareth asked as he dug a little deeper. He was starting to see the water seeping into the dirt from the pipe as he dug a little closer to where the bamboo had been laid two years ago. Another smile, the boy was right again. And why are you using Gregor’s shirt?"

Well, I won’t know for sure until I see it, his son answered as he peered into the hole. Okay, let’s come at it from the other side now. It should be enough to fix it. This isn’t exactly mud, anyway. And Gregor lost a bet, so I got his shirt.

Why am I not surprised? Gareth smiled as he moved to the other side of where the pipe was buried. He’d learned a long time ago not to question his son’s intelligence. Besides, the boy’s ideas had made life easier on the homestead ever since Gareth had started listening to them. What was the bet? You know what, don’t tell me. I probably don’t want to know. Someday he’ll learn not to bet against you, Rowan.

Gareth skillfully moved the last bit of dampening dirt away from the buried pipe and stepped aside. With the dirt removed the two could plainly see a six inch crack in the sturdy pole. Gareth moved to the side and leaned against his shovel as Rowan moved in to inspect the damage. Rowan could only be described as gangly at best. His height had increased rapidly in the last year, but the rest of his body was slow to catch up. He was skinnier than the rest of his siblings, sisters included, though he had the same sand colored hair and brown eyes that predominated amongst his family. Gareth looked on curiously as the young boy used his hands to scoop dirt from underneath the pipe. While his curiosity begged him to question what the boy was doing, Gareth willed himself to be silent and watch. He knew his son well enough to know the answer would come soon enough. It did not take long.

That’s kinda what I thought, Pop. There’s a root system that has sent a chute towards the pipe. It pushed this part up just enough to cause enough stress to crack it. I can plug the leak easily enough, but we’ll have to remove the root from underneath it. Rowan explained as he began brushing away more dirt with his hands, exposing more of the root.

Gareth dropped the shovel and walked over to the small cart they had brought with them. It was another of Rowan’s inventions. Basically, it was a topless box with four wheels underneath it, about four feet long and three feet wide. With a depth of about twelve inches, it was perfect for carrying several tools around the farm for different jobs. The boy had fixed a bar to the back end about chest high for pushing and a rope system on the front for pulling. Gareth retrieved a small hand axe from the pile of tools in the wagon and rejoined his son.

That’s good, son. Dig out the root on the other side of the pipe, and I’ll cut this end.

Be careful not to hit the bamboo with the axe, Rowan said as he moved to the other side of the pipe and began moving dirt with his hands. Another fracture will make it difficult to repair.

Gareth smiled to himself and began chopping at the root, careful not to swing too close to the bamboo pipe. The root itself was not terribly thick, so it didn’t take long to cut through it completely. By the time he was done, Rowan had cleared the dirt from the other side as well. The big man moved quickly, chopping the root, and then pulling the freed piece out from under the split pipe. He took his axe back to the wagon and allowed Rowan to work his magic with his mud concoction. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a small handkerchief he kept in his back pocket and waited for his son to finish. Before long, he heard riders approaching from the north.

Rowan didn’t seem to notice the commotion as he worked to repair the split pipe. Gareth turned to try and ascertain who was coming. He could see about ten riders, all on horseback, kicking up dust as they rode at a trot along the dried dirt road which would eventually lead them to Gareth’s homestead. The billowing flags at the front of the party left no doubt as to who the newcomers were. Without them, the sun glinting off the steel of the security detail would have given it away as well. King Anton and his son, Prince Jared, were out for an afternoon ride.

It was not as uncommon a sight as it would seem. Jenai was a peaceful kingdom, surrounded by mountains to the west and north and ocean to the east and south. There was little to fear in traveling within the boundaries of the province. Gareth’s farm lay only an hour’s ride from the city proper that housed Anton’s palace. The big man smiled at the approach of his old friend. While they both came from starkly different backgrounds, Anton and Gareth had forged a fond friendship during their younger days. They had both trained in the Jenai army under legendary commander Donel Logan, Anton fulfilling his duties as prince to learn the ways of battle and leadership and Gareth fulfilling a young man’s desire for adventure. They had stayed close over the years to an extent, as close as a citizen could be to his king.

Gareth waved and bowed respectfully as the riders came to a stop in front of him. Rowan continued to work, oblivious to the commotion brought on by the royals and their armed guards.

Good day, your Highness, Gareth smiled at his old friend. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?

The king smiled in response. He was a tall man as he sat atop his horse, a striking white horse that was well muscled and bred for speed and agility. Anton’s shoulder length hair was curly and red, streaked with gray at the temples and throughout the rest of his mane. His full beard was well-trimmed, mostly red but speckled with white and grey. He was broad shouldered and carried himself with the obvious confident air of a king. But his kind blue eyes revealed the compassion and depth of his character. He chuckled at his friend before he answered.

Just out enjoying the sunshine on another glorious day, my friend.

Excuse me, sir, said the young boy to the king’s left. I didn’t realize that one of your children was hard of hearing. While Anton held himself with confidence, it was something else that Jared portrayed. The boy was probably seventeen or eighteen by now, and had the pompous air of arrogance you might expect to find from a teenager raised in wealth. He was tall, like his father, but was not as broad-shouldered. Jared was muscular to an extent, which he showed by the short sleeves of his shirt that were cut just passed his shoulders. His molded breastplate was form-fitted, and showed off his athletic build. It was not compassion that Gareth saw in those gray eyes, however. It was arrogance.

Can’t you see the boy is working hard, Jared? the king snapped before Gareth could answer. A trait you could find useful, I think. A month under Gareth’s wing here would do more for turning you into a man than all the schooling I provide you, I would wager.

My apologies, your Highness, Gareth managed without gritting his teeth at the boy. Rowan simply gets caught up when one of his contraptions needs repair.

Nonsense, old friend, Anton replied with a smile. You do well to encourage the boy to use his mind to solve problems. That can only lead to great things, I believe.

Um, father, Jared interjected. May I ask---?

Oh, yes, yes, the king said as he waved his hand towards his son impatiently. Gareth, my friend, it seems my son wishes to inquire on the whereabouts of your daughter and ask your permission to speak with her. Gareth noticed that this last statement seemed a bit over-emphasized as the king directed his gaze at his son. Jared lowered his eyes as he spoke.

With your permission, sir, I would much appreciate an opportunity to speak with your daughter. Please.

Gareth regarded the boy as he sat atop his horse, eyes averted, looking cowed at the moment. Yet the way his hands gripped the reins tightly betrayed the seething anger underneath his sheepish exterior. This was not the first time Jared had come to call on his daughter. However, this was the first time the king himself had accompanied him. It was obvious to Gareth a discussion of some sort had taken place between the two royals. A one-sided discussion between father and son.

Well, by this time of day, Gareth said as he looked to the sun, which was about halfway along its descent to the horizon. I’m sure Sarily is finished with her chores. She’s probably down by the creek with her brother, dueling with their bows again, no doubt. You can find her there.

Prince Jared glanced to two of the armed guards behind him in the patrol and made ready to pull his reins to lead his horse in the direction of the creek to the south of the homestead. However, the boy stopped himself and glanced to his father.

Father? May I leave you and venture down to the creek?

Anton nodded in acquiescence to his son, but also rolled his eyes toward Gareth, who stood still and watched the exchange with silent amusement.

Jared glanced back at Gareth and bowed his head slightly. Thank you, sir Hensleap. May the sun continue to shine upon you and your family.

With that, the boy prodded his horse in the direction of the creek and broke into a trot, followed by two of the armed guards from the king’s escort. As he watched the dust drift away behind the fleeing horses, Gareth allowed himself a chuckle as he glanced back up towards his old friend.

It would seem the trials of raising teenagers are not foreign to the king of Jenai, Gareth smiled.

Honestly, Gareth, I don’t know how you do it with more than one. The boy wears me out. I’m afraid he has been babied too much by his mother. I have taken it upon myself to vanquish this selfish sense of entitlement he seems to have acquired over the last few years. Respected kings live longer than foolish ones. A wise friend once told me that.

Gareth chuckled in spite of himself. It takes an even wiser man to pick out the few nuggets of wisdom that I’ve come up with that are actually worth a damn.

Does it worry you, Gareth, that my son, the Prince, seems smitten with your daughter? the king asked in a more serious tone.

Ha ha ha ha, Gareth laughed out loud at the question. Of all my children, your Highness, Sarily is the most stubborn and free-spirited. If the young prince’s attention is unwanted, she will let him know. I’m afraid your son may be attempting to bite off more than he can chew.

The king’s tone turned worrisome. Gareth, in all seriousness, my son does not often know how to take no for an answer. Perhaps I should follow to make sure the boy behaves properly.

I wouldn’t worry, my friend. Sometimes you’ve gotta let kids be kids.

It truly amazes me, Gareth, the king said with a smile, the job you have done raising your family these last few years without Mara. You’ve not once since your loss dropped from the list of the city’s top suppliers.

Truth is, your Highness, Gareth replied. I cannot take credit for that in the least. My children have been the ones that have kept us going. They’ve all stepped up to fill the void left by their mother‘s passing. It’s one reason why I don’t worry about Sarily. We’re a tight knit group. We all stick together.

He smiled and ruffled the hair of Rowan as the twelve year old came to stand beside his father. Rowan bowed his head respectfully towards the king.

Your highness, it is good to see you again, Rowan said respectfully. I didn’t realize we had guests. My apologies for not greeting you straight away.

Ha! Right you are, Gareth! the king laughed out loud and smiled down at Rowan. The boy’s focus is impenetrable. Tell you what, Rowan, let us move this conversation to the shade of those trees and share a drink. I believe my stewards have something suitable. I would love to hear what has had your rapt attention all this time. If you don’t mind, that is Gareth.

Not at all, Gareth said as the group moved to the shade of the large maple trees nearby. Sure the chicken coup still needed fixed, but it wasn’t often that Rowan caught the ear of the king. He would give his son the chance to share some of his ideas with King Anton. Besides, since he’d mentioned it earlier when they were digging up the pipe, he figured Rowan had already been working out a better way to fix the chicken coup. It was just the way the boy’s mind worked.

~~~~

Ha ha! That’s the best one yet! Edwin exclaimed as he raised his hands and bow to the skies. You’ll have a hard time beating that one, sis. I am feeling it today.

Edwin’s first shot of the day had indeed struck true, plainly in the red painted portion of the target attached to a tree across the creek. The older boy had waded across the shallow creek immediately upon their arrival to hang the homemade target, a thin, flat sheet of wood with a large red hand print in the center. The target hung a little higher on the tree than usual; no doubt the taller boy was trying to gain from his height advantage over his sister. Edwin was tall, over six feet. He was broad shouldered and big muscled. As the second oldest in the family, Edwin had been working hard helping his father for nearly ten years. Now, at eighteen, he was starting to become the third man of the family. His hair was brown, his eyes were blue, and his grin betrayed how excited he was that today might finally be the day that he bested his younger sister.

Sarily seemed unconcerned. She was still sitting on a tree stump, ten yards behind where her brother had taken his awe-inspiring first shot, inspecting each of the ten arrows she had brought with her. Carefully, Sarily inspected each arrow to make sure the metal tip was fastened securely and that each shaft was solid and uncompromised. The feathers at the ends were checked last, the final examination to make sure her arrows would fly true.

Satisfied with her inspected arrows, Sarily picked up her bow and tested the tension of the string. When she found it agreeable, she picked up one of her arrows, knocked it to the bow, and let it fly all in one motion. The action was quick, fluid. To Edwin, it didn’t look as if she had aimed at all. But he knew better. Her arrow struck dead center of the red hand print.

Edwin groaned.

She was still sitting on the tree stump. Ten yards behind him.

Don’t get discouraged, Edwin. It was a great shot, Sarily smiled as she stood up and strode over to stand beside her brother. Standing side by side, the top of Sarily’s head only reached to Edwin’s chest. Her short stature and petite frame would cause most to underestimate her. Edwin would never make that mistake. But look and listen. It’s quiet. There’s no wind, no breeze. Peaceful surroundings. It’s a perfect day for shooting.

How do you do that? Edwin asked in an almost pleading voice. You barely aimed at all.

On the contrary, Sarily replied. I was aiming from the moment I sat down.

I think Rowan is right, Edwin said with a smile. You have been gifted with the ability to shoot.

Ha! she laughed in reply. When was the last time Rowan was wrong about anything? Gifted or not, it still helps to practice.

And so they practiced. The two siblings took turns shooting arrows at the red-handed target. While Edwin’s aim was indeed good this day, Sarily’s was impeccable. Every arrow seemed to hit the same spot, while Edwin’s shots were centered in the same general area. It was Sarily’s turn to retrieve the arrows when they heard riders approaching.

By the time Sarily retrieved the arrows and handed Edwin’s back to him, they could just make out the shapes of the riders through the clouds of dust. At the first glimpse of steel armor on the two riders trailing the lone figure out front, both siblings knew who approached at breakneck speed.

Looks like your boyfriend is coming, sis, Edwin quipped, though the tone of his voice held no joy in the observation.

Ahhh, he’s not my boyfriend, Sarily snapped back at her brother. You know, I could probably shoot him from here and save myself a lot of trouble.

Killing the prince would probably bring more trouble upon you than does dodging his pathetic advances, Edwin said matter-of-factly. You really think you could hit him from here with him riding at that speed?

Yeah, I do. Want me to show you? Sarily scoffed as she reached for an arrow and knocked it. Edwin stopped her before she could raise her bow and fire.

Are you crazy, girl? Seriously, you worry me sometimes.

Oh sure, Sarily replied as she lowered her bow and replaced the arrow in her quiver. "Just wait ‘til he starts talking, then you’ll want to shoot him."

"He is still the prince, Edwin replied. We should show him some respect."

Well, not shooting him is the extent of the respect I have allotted for today, Sarily said.

Edwin merely chuckled as the young prince came skidding to a stop in front of them, kicking up an extra cloud of dust in the process on the dried ground. His two riders pulled up short behind him. He had the same over-confident air about him that Edwin was used to. He sat tall in the saddle, shoulders back, chin high. He had a short, blue riding cape that fell to one side as he came to a halt. Prince Jared made a calculated flourish as he repositioned his cape behind him before he spoke.

Good day, Edwin, the prince nodded to the elder boy before he turned his attention to his sister. Sarily, your father said I might find you here. I trust all is well with you.

As well as can be expected I suppose, Jared, Sarily answered nonchalantly. The prince straightened in his saddle a bit, clearly annoyed by not being given his proper title, yet he said nothing about the slight.

Prince Jared surveyed the two siblings. He eyed the two bows in their hands and the quivers slung over their shoulders. His gaze shifted across the creek until his eyes found the target attached to the tree. He grunted to himself as if he had just solved a puzzle that had been perplexing people for centuries.

So, I see you’re teaching your sister to shoot, he declared in what could only be described as an approving tone. Good of you, Edwin, though hardly necessary I would think. I’m not sure marksmanship is a tool a beauty such as you would find very useful, Sarily.

Oh, I don’t know, Sarily replied with a stare. I thought I’d found a very good use for it a moment ago, but Edwin disagreed for fear of the political implications.

Yes, well, the prince stammered a bit, plainly confused as to what she meant. I’m sure your older brother knows best. Besides, your place clearly should be in a pretty dress, with highly trained archers and guards protecting you, my dear.

I’m not-- Sarily’s eyes blazed up at the prince but Edwin cut her off.

I’m afraid you give me too much credit, your Highness, Edwin said quickly as he put his arm around his sister in a public show of affection. In truth, he wanted the leverage to stop her from attacking the prince. He gripped the top of her shoulder to keep her rooted in her place beside him. I cannot teach her what she already knows. We were just having a friendly competition.

Ha ha ha ha, the prince laughed out loud and visibly shook with mirth as he sat atop his horse. I do hope you’re taking it easy on her, Edwin. I would hate to see my favorite loyal subject humiliated in a public setting.

Edwin increased his grip on his sister to keep her from moving. It required a bit of effort. There was no silencing her, however.

Are you speaking from experience, Jared? I hear public humiliation is somewhat of a specialty of yours, Sarily smiled. Edwin looked away from his sister. There was malice and mischief in that smile.

The prince grunted to himself as he pulled his riding gloves tighter around his fingers. Yes, well, I assure you, your brothers will get what’s coming to them for that little bit of mischief. He turned his attention to the guard behind him. Captain, make a note. The twins are to be arrested on site if we happen across them during our visit.

Sire? the man questioned. On what charges are we to arrest two ten year old boys?

New evidence has recently come to my attention that Jak and Zak Hensleap are the perpetrators who painted the word buffoon on the backside of my horse before the parade two weeks ago. They will be punished for their pranks this time. Jared smiled down at the two with an arrogant air of authority.

That must have been difficult for the men riding with you. Sarily commented.

How so? the prince queried, confusion plainly showing on his young face.

It must have been distracting for them to try to decide which horse’s ass to pay the most attention to.

Her comment drew a snicker from the guard who had yet to speak which he quickly tried to disguise as a sneeze. This drew icy glares from both the prince and the Captain.

Perhaps, my dear Sarily, the prince said in an even tone as he finished his unspoken communication with his insubordinate guard, you’d like to test your skill with the bow with a friendly wager.

Sarily held his gaze for a brief moment; the two of them sized each other up, neither blinking once. Jared’s stringy red hair hung over his thin, freckled face, partially covering his light grey eyes. Those eyes were so light in color they seemed to blend in with the whites, making his gaze seem unnatural. Most found Jared’s stare to be unnerving; Sarily found it to be annoying. At sixteen, she was a year younger than Jared, and he had been annoying her intermittently for far too long. She found nothing about the boy attractive in the least, and the thought of being with him was nauseating. However, the prospect of potentially showing him up was too much for her to resist.

What are the stakes? she asked, her gaze never wavering.

Simple, he replied, his abnormal grey eyes locked to her piercing blues. When I win, you will accompany me to the Mid-Summer Ball next weekend. You will wear a dress of my choosing. And, you will be publicly overjoyed to be with me. He ended his terms with a mocking smile.

"And what do I get when I win?" Sarily sneered.

Ha ha ha. It’s hardly a likely outcome, of course, Jared laughed heartily. But I suppose it’s only fair. Name your stakes.

You leave my brothers alone for one, Sarily answered quickly.

Jared chuckled and shared a look with his captain. Okay. And?

And, Sarily replied. "You write ‘buffoon’ on the backside of your horse before riding back to your castle."

Oh boy, Edwin groaned to himself, yet it was plainly audible in the serene setting by the creek.

Ha! Agreed! Jared exclaimed. Do you accept the terms of the wager?

Agreed, Sarily replied.

Oh boy, Edwin groaned.

Very good, the prince smiled jovially as he hopped off his horse and retrieved his own bow from the side of his saddle. It was elegantly crafted, intricately carved, and obviously made by the finest craftsman available. He accepted an arrow from his captain, but only after the officer had inspected each and every one in both his and the other guard’s quiver. "You must, though you are afraid to admit it, secretly want to go to the festival with me. You can’t possibly think a girl such as yourself can best someone who has been trained at the royal academy by the best archers in all the land. I will be the gentleman and go first. I don‘t want you to have to sweat this out for very long, my dear."

With that the prince stepped up and took aim with his elaborate bow. He stood stiff, eyes locked on the target. He spent some time eyeing the objective and regulating his breathing. Edwin noticed that his form was impeccable. Jared’s arms never wavered an inch, his breath was calm and even, and his eyes never blinked or strayed from the target. After what seemed like several minutes, the prince released the tension on the string and let the arrow loose. It flew straight. It flew true. And it struck the very center of the palm on the red hand painted target.

Well done, your Highness! the captain said as he clapped twice at the accomplishment.

Nice shot, sire, the other guard said, a bit more subdued.

The prince spread his arms out to the sides and bathed in the accolades. It was a disgusting sight to see the satisfied smirk on his face.

I will send a seamstress over tomorrow, Sarily, to get you fitted for your dress. I promise it will be elegant and tasteful, the prince didn’t try to hide his pride in himself as he replaced his bow on the saddle.

Who says you won? I haven’t even shot yet, Sarily protested with disgust evident in her voice.

Oh, come now, the prince replied. That is a perfect shot—dead center—made by a true master. You cannot possibly win. I will not allow you to embarrass yourself by trying.

"A fine shot to be sure, your heavenly lordship, Sarily mocked. But hardly unbeatable. You hit the center of the palm. Relatively big part of the target."

The prince gave her a questioning look. What are you suggesting? You could hit a smaller part of the target? He shook his head, laughed, and shared a look with his captain, who also bore a wide grin.

I could, was Sarily’s only reply.

Sarily, please, the prince smiled and shrugged his shoulders. I am allowing you to maintain some semblance of honor by accepting my victory. You do not have to do this. I will feel bad to see you miss.

Are you really that afraid of getting beat by a girl? Sarily asked with disgust.

Hardly. What are you going to do? Shoot one of the fingers? the prince said with obvious delight, still reveling in his victory. It’s impossible. Just give it up.

Impossible, eh? Sarily smiled for the first time since the wager began. You’re saying you couldn’t hit a fingertip?

No one could at this distance. You can barely see it, Jared shook his head at the idea. You should just accept defeat.

Well, then, Sarily replied with a shrug of her shoulders. If you can’t do it, and I can, I guess that would mean I win. Right?

You’re not gonna just let this go and accept your defeat are you? the prince sighed.

Not without shooting, no. What kind of fool do you take me for? Sarily snapped.

Alright then, girlie, the prince waved at the target. If you truly must embarrass yourself in this manner, who am I to stop you?

Sarily rolled her eyes and picked out an arrow. She tested the tension of the string on her homemade bow. It was nowhere near as fancy as the prince’s, but that hardly mattered to her. The mechanics of the shot had been forming in her head since before the wager was made.

Wait, the prince said as he failed to suppress a snorted laugh. Which fingertip are you shooting at? Jared shared a snicker with his captain.

Sarily shot him an icy glare. The middle one. Just for you.

The two men mocked her with ‘oohs.’

Sarily rolled her eyes and put them out of her mind. She recalled the shot she’d been thinking about since this predicament began. She checked to see that the breeze was still negligible. The sounds of the creek were quiet. Birds chirped intermittently, but the sound was not distracting. She eyed the target and decided to make one final adjustment to the calculations in her head.

The petite blonde haired, blue eyed girl shot the prince one more icy glare as she turned her back to the target. She widened her stance so that her feet were about two strides apart.

What are you doing? Edwin couldn’t help but say.

Sarily ignored him. She knocked an arrow, bent over at the waist, and sighted the target with her head upside down, looking back between her legs. She let loose the arrow in a fraction of the time that it had taken Jared to aim. It shot upward from the strange firing position. It flew straight. It sailed true.

And hit its mark. Dead center of the tip of the middle finger.

Yes! Edwin exclaimed as he flew across the creek to retrieve the target. He brought it back and eyed his sister with a combination of admiration and awe.

Prince Jared stood speechless. As did his captain.

How did you do that, miss? the other guard finally spoke after a long pause. The prince’s and the captain’s mouths were still agape, the captain still sitting on his horse, the prince still standing beside his.

I aimed and shot, Sarily replied eyes focused on the prince. "It doesn’t matter where you shoot it from as long as your aim is true. My aim is second to none."

Incredible! the guard simply stated as he slightly bowed his head to her in appreciation.

"I believe now that my brothers are off the hook, all that remains is for you to doctor up the backside of your horse, your Highness," Sarily smiled. She took great pleasure in rubbing her victory in the prince’s face.

Yes, that was the deal, I suppose, the prince mumbled as he finally shook himself of his shock and managed to speak. He made a visible show of regaining his confident air. Sadly, it would appear we are a little short on paint at the moment, so I guess it’ll have to wait for another time.

Oh, I don’t think we’ll have to wait very long, Sarily managed a mischievous grin as she turned her head and shouted towards the nearby woods. Boys!

The prince looked visibly shaken as two identical ten-year-old boys emerged from the trees behind him. They were both dirty and disheveled. With unkempt brown hair, brown eyes, and what seemed to be permanent mischievous grins. The boys came into view carrying a bucket of red paint, a balled up dirty rag, and what appeared to be an over-stretched animal bladder.

How did you know they were there? the prince muttered angrily as he directed a stern glare at Sarily.

Before Sarily could answer, Zak spoke first as the two boys entered the group from behind the prince, How did you know we were back there?

And how did you know we have paint? Jak put in. The twins seemed somewhat upset that they’d been discovered.

Well, I could hear you moving around for one, Sarily said matter-of-factly. The prince, Edwin, and the two guards looked from one to another, clearly none of the four shared Sarily’s awareness. "Secondly, I saw you two mixing the paint this morning. I figured once the good prince here came parading through our grounds you’d be unable to pass up that opportunity."

Jak punched his brother in the shoulder and chuckled. No wonder we can never get her, he said through his laughter. She knows us too well.

Yeah, maybe, Zak replied with a chuckle of his own. But her day will come.

How touching, the prince spat as he climbed back onto his horse. Guards, seize them.

Sire? said the Captain, though he made no move to dismount his horse. Edwin and Sarily, however, both knocked arrows to their bows.

I said, place these two under arrest, the prince snapped at his captain. They’re mischief will be tolerated no longer!

As one, Sarily and Edwin raised their bows and pointed them at the trio on horseback. Edwin was the first to speak, his voice low and even-toned, "That was not the agreement you made, your highness."

How dare you point weapons at me. the prince’s anger was visible on his face. I am the law in this land!

"How dare you, Jared, Sarily sneered through gritted teeth. You come on our land, make a bet, lose, and then fail to honor it. The only law that matters right now rests in the tip of this arrow. I think it’s past time for you to leave."

The prince took a quick assessment of his situation. It was not good. Unfortunately for him, he’d placed himself between his guards and the two archers. At this range, they would not miss, and they were too far away from him for any other course of attack to work. His anger was easily visible, but he had little choice.

Very well, he eyed Sarily with a steely gaze. We will retire, but don’t think for a moment this little episode will go unpunished. Captain.

The prince motioned for the three to retreat, but Sarily stopped them with an urgent cough. The three turned their attention back to the girl.

I think you’re forgetting the other part of the agreement, your Highness, Sarily mocked him with a smile. You’ve got some painting to do before you leave.

Oh boy, Edwin muttered to himself.

Moments later, Edwin and Sarily finally lowered their bows as the trio finally rode away in a huff. The prince commanded his guards to ride close behind him to either side in an attempt to obscure the red buffoon that he had painted on the backside of his white horse. Jak and Zak were laughing out loud and pointing at the prince. Edwin and Sarily shared a more serious look.

This could be trouble, sis, Edwin said with concern. And Pa’s definitely not going to be pleased.

I think he’d be less pleased had we let that sniveling weasel take the twins to the dungeons, Sarily replied. I didn’t force him to make the bet.

You sure forced him to live up to it though, Zak chimed in with a laugh.

That was awesome, Jak added.

Awesome or not, Edwin admonished the two slightly. You two should probably lay off the prince for the foreseeable future. I don’t think he can be trusted to not put you two away.

Still, Zak said with a mischievous grin. I’m not sure laying off is really our style.

Agreed, good brother, Jak replied with a mocking grin of his own. Perhaps we need to work on our sneakiness a bit more.

Right you are, good sir, Zak laughed. Come on. I believe Gregor is probably reading under his favorite tree about now. Ripe for the picking.

It’s just too easy sometimes, Jak shrugged as the two ran off into the woods.

Chapter 2: Bad News

Ha! Rowan, my boy, you are amazing! King Anton exclaimed as he clapped the boy on the shoulder. Truly astounding. Your mind is as sharp as many of the advisors I keep in Jenai City. Gareth, my friend, you are to be commended.

I cannot take credit for Rowan, my King, Gareth shook his head. He comes up with this stuff all on his own. His brains must’ve come from his mother.

Regardless, the King smiled affectionately. It’s one of the reasons we rode down this way, today. Word of your son’s unique intelligence has traveled to my ear on a number of occasions, and I have a proposition for you.

Rowan perked up at the mention of a proposition. He typically was a boy who downplayed his accomplishments, but loved to talk about his work. The King had his attention now.

My senior advisor, Adoy, does not take on apprentices readily, the King began in a grand voice. However, I’ve convinced him to meet with Rowan to determine whether or not he could learn under him. Adoy is a master scholar and could teach you wondrous things."

Rowan’s eyes lit up as the King finished his sentence. Really? I have followed much of Sir Adoy’s research, your Highness. It would be the highest honor to meet with him.

The King chuckled lightly, The honor is yours, providing your father agrees.

Gareth smiled at his son. His importance to the homestead was immeasurable, but he knew this was an opportunity he could not let pass by. He was sure his son was meant for something special. How could he deny him such an opportunity?

I think it’s a wonderful idea, Gareth said. Thank you, old friend, for thinking of my son and my family, and gracing us with this honor.

An honor well deserved, my friend, the King replied with a smile.

Highness! one of the armored guards came to stand in front of the king, who was still sitting comfortably underneath the shade of the large oak tree with Rowan and Gareth. The well-trained guard waited until he had the king’s attention. Rider approaching, very fast from the south.

The king and Gareth both stood up and peered at the approaching rider in the distance. The horse was indeed moving fast, a strong black animal moving at breakneck speed. To Gareth, it was bordering on reckless. This rider was not obscured by the dust. The horse was moving so swiftly that it and its rider stayed out in front of the cloud of dust the thundering hooves were kicking up. As he grew closer, there was a familiarity to the rider that struck Gareth.

Lieutenant! Move to intercept! the guard commanded as the rider continued his frantic pace. The squad of soldiers began to move immediately, efficiently.

No need, General, Gareth said quickly as he was finally able to recognize the approaching rider. He’s coming to us. That’s Jake. The last statement came out as a surprise. Jake was supposed to be far from here.

Stand down, men, the King commanded as he strode to the forefront of the group. That’s one of our soldiers.

Jake Hensleap brought his panting horse to a sudden halt as he reached the edge of the shade which currently sheltered the group of six soldiers, the king, Gareth, and Rowan. He quickly picked out the lowest ranking officer of the group, a lieutenant, and threw him the reigns of his horse as he dismounted and went to a knee before his king. Head bowed, he spoke with military efficiency. Your Highness.

The king was curious, and he could sense the urgency in the young man. Rise and report, he commanded.

Jake stood to his full height before the group and addressed the king. Gareth immediately saw that his eldest son had changed significantly since the last time he saw him. Jake had always been an imposing figure, tall and broad shouldered, with muscles taut and strengthened from hard labor on the homestead. He towered over the rest of the group, Gareth being closest to his height but only reaching his shoulders. The lad had abandoned his armor somewhere during his journey. He wore only the leather padded vest that was normally worn under the soldier’s exterior armor and loose-fitting riding trousers. Blonde hair hung down around his neck, just above the shoulders, and had the wild look of a man who had been riding hard for some time. His uncovered biceps, slick with sweat, showed muscles that were accustomed to being used frequently. On his right shoulder was a fresh tattoo, three stars above a lion’s head, the fresh mark of a member of special forces under the command of General Donel Logan. The look in his piercing blue eyes was what struck Gareth the most. While the youthful appearance was the same, those eyes showed the soul of a grown man.

Your Highness, I bear an urgent message from General Logan, Jake began. He spoke with military precision, but his father could plainly see the anxiousness behind the words. The boy had seen action, of that his father was sure. We are under attack by a superior force. Every skirmish and battle the First Legion has fought with these invaders has ended in swift defeat. General Logan insists we gather as many people as we can and seek shelter in the mountains. He entrusted me to give this to you as soon as possible. Jack reached into his leather tunic and retrieved a rolled up parchment emblazoned with the general’s seal and handed it to the king.

At Jake’s words, Gareth shared a knowing glance with King Anton. The angered set to the king’s jaw showed that he and Gareth had the same thought. Ayperos! Gareth bit out a curse. The king nodded.

No, Jake shook his head in disagreement. General Logan was insistent it was not the Ayperos.

The answer baffled Gareth, who turned his attention back to the king and General Logan’s letter. As Anton read the general’s letter, the questions from the officer at his side began to fly.

Describe this superior force.

Sir, this army outmatched us in size, strength, and firepower. They are not human, Jake’s gaze never wavered from the general’s intense stare. If Jake didn’t have the group’s attention before, he had it now. Beasts. Humanoid in a sense. They walk on two legs, but they are covered in long hair from head to toe. Each is seven to eight feet tall and disproportionately strong and incredibly fast--almost as fast as a horse at full gallop. They cut through our forces like paper.

But why run to the mountains? the king’s general inquired as the Anton finally looked up from reading the letter from the General Logan. The walls of Jenai City are more than tall enough to give us a fighting chance. I can marshal numbers quickly your Highness.

Pardon me, General, Jake said. But the walls of the city can offer no protection. These hairy beasts are just the foot soldiers. They appear to be led by flying monsters, thirty five to fifty feet in length, that breathe fire and rain death. Our arrows were useless against them. We cannot stand against those behemoths. We must gather the people and flee. There isn’t much time.