The courtyard was alive with the sound of marching boots, the clatter of steel boots cascading across the castle grounds as a host of heavily armored soldiers strode forward in perfect formation and unison. It was an almost eerie sight, the unfaltering perfect of each movement of every limb. Watching from high above in from the chamber provided to us for our stay, I watched what could have passed for the final take of a propaganda film of some fascist state's military parade. Only one thing was glaringly different and it was only superficial at that, each soldier marching to the tune of the drummers were completely encased in archaic medieval armor. That wouldn't usually be enough to concern me, but when I say encased, I do mean encased. I couldn't even see the faces or anything that told me these were even human beings. Such were the dogs of war, but perhaps this host of Deron was all for show.

 

Deron had arrived earlier than expected, the servants of the castle still clamoring and panicking in every direction. I'm sure the captain and his superiors would as well, these tin cans, at least a hundred of them in one large column, were inside the castle grounds now. The ministers were panicking that he might be so audacious to set off a coup. Normally I think you wouldn't let someone with an army that large waltz right into your home base, but as Prince, Deron has special privileges. No one seemed eager to agitate him either, I think this whole affair was to somehow placate and appease the man I now see riding so high and mighty behind his toy soldiers.

 

Dressed in armor befitting of a royal, an almost golden bronze sheen and a vine like vibrant blue pattern twisting over every plate... How much money does decoration like that cost? Anyways, he has pretty generic brown hair, green eyes, the nose and the cheekbones to go along with it. The gaudy dress up was pretty blatant compensating. I don't think anyone would dare think that let alone say it. He certainly did look like the princess' brother alright. There wasn't much room to argue over that. Just by the audacity to hold his helmet and plume under his arm while he grins and waves to the people milling about the castle grounds as though he was a returning conquering hero.

 

     “Never fought a real fight before.” Rose offhandedly declared.

 

Seated on the window sill with one leg dangling over and her back against the frame, Rose watched from another window as the troops marched below.

 

     “Why do you say that?” I asked, just to keep the conversation going if anything.

 

     “No one smiles like that. Not unless you're a big phony.”

 

Anecdotal at best, plain dismissive and antagonistic at worst. I think she was in a rather sour mood in general. I don't think she was sold on this whole arrangement, but Susan and I see this is a chance that maybe we could stop wandering around aimlessly and find some clue to understand how and why I'm here. There has to be some kind of hint locked away in the cavernous library such an old city would have stowed away. I'm sure playing bodyguard and doing everything in out power to prevent a crisis might be a little too much for you, but you need to bear with it for now.

 

     “Our attendance in the throne room will be required before long.” Susan announced near the entrance to the chamber. “We should not be tardy. For once I agree with Rose. He gives off the aura of being stately, but there is something contrary underneath.”

 

Stepping away from the window I took a deep breath and readied myself and the two girls garbed themselves in cloaks for a disguise. We'd rather not be the center attention when this shit storm rolls into town. Rissler had suggested it earlier and I presume monsters in the throne room would be quite the faux pas. Luckily our presence wasn't even a rumor in the castle yet, they were all still panicking behind the brave face of those welcoming Prince Deron. No one had the time to pay attention to us. One errant footstep, one misplaced dish or glass and I'm sure that person would be receiving the strictest of punishments.

 

When we finally manged to navigate through the corridors and masses of scrambling servants buzzing within the castle and made it into the main keep the Prince was already taking his last few overly dramatic strides toward the throne. A very impressive and elaborate throne room, ancient and decorated in dyed fabrics and rugs far beyond the reach of common folk. The ceiling was needlessly high, at least twenty meters and all across it fresh fresco murals of dragonkin and man throughout what I guess is the history of this kingdom stretching back more than a thousand years. The throne itself sat at the end of this football sized room and up two series of steps, a total of about forty so it might tower over those speaking below. Seated on that throne now was the ever quiet Princess Violetta and surrounding her a wall of ministers, Hegg front and center with another eleven of them. It was as if they were a shield to protect her because she looked so fragile up there.

 

Marching in single file and lining themselves along the right wall of the chamber were a choice selection of twenty five of those tin soldiers he had come to the capital with. And along the wall they stood silent and motionless, in a stare-off with Rissler's Royal Guards, with the man himself standing front and center. Watching from the balconies overhead the powerful movers and shakers, the influential noble families with their various banners had gathered. Each of them watching over the drama unfold below them. Hidden away on the floor, off to the right of the throne and obscured by the shadows Rose, Susan and I watched and waited. If something happened, we'd have to make it to the top of those stairs in a heartbeat. A bunch of old men blocking the way to the princess probably wouldn't stop Deron and some of his men for long.

 

     “Dear sister,” Deron bellowed, his voice low and forced to give it power as it reverberated off the walls. “It has been too long since we last had a chance to meet.”

 

He didn't even bow or show any display of humility. It was something the minsters ahead and the nobles up above noticed, but no one dared say a thing.

 

     “I see you are still unmarried. I suppose the wise ministers have not found a suitable man to be king?”

 

     “Princess Violetta is only just of age Prince Deron. Cease with your thinly veiled mockery of the court.” Hegg retorted.

 

So there was someone with backbone here? He seemed to also be choosing his battles if he allowed himself to be offended now and not before.

 

     “Of course. I am just concerned for the princess. I would not want an uncouth and unworthy brute of a man to sit upon the vacant throne beside her. Since I ever so dearly care for my kingdom... and my dear sister.”

 

Now his attention swept to the nobles gathered in the balconies up above, addressing them all with a sweep of his hand.

 

     “Of course the regency was not passed to me, but to the gentleman assembled around the throne, but I find the effectiveness of their rule has been found wanting. Taxes rise and the treasury dwindles. Crops fail yet the people of the capital still feast. Lawlessness and unrest runs rampant. I do not know how my dear sister and her loyal attendants plan to keep Domdracveria safe.”

 

     “No army has ever successfully invaded Domdracveria, Deron. Not even the hordes of the demon lord a thousand years ago.” Hegg spat.

 

     “Because of King Rudright the Great, Minister Hegg... A role model for every Dracverian boy. A strong king, something Domdracveria has believed in for thousands of years. The strongest rule to tame these wild and ferocious lands.”

 

     “That is enough Deron.” Hegg growled. “You were not summoned to Ifern to lecture. We have come to negotiate.”

 

     “An offer, to me?” Deron said mockingly.

 

Hegg looked over and made eye contact with one of the other minsters and giving him a nod was presented with a rolled up scroll. The old man made his way down the steps and Deron made his way up until they both met on the middle landing between the two sets. With little ceremony Hegg handed over the scroll to Deron who accepted it quickly, unfurled, glanced over and began rolling it back up just as quickly.

 

     “You did not put me at great risk to march all the way north to Ifern for this, did you?” Deron snarled.

 

Hegg was sweating, but he didn't speak a word.

 

     “Dual Monarchy? Kingdom of Domdrac-Verdantia? You think I want to be king of a weakened Domdracveria? That you can cut it in half and present it to me as some sort of compromise?”

 

Deron dropped the scroll onto the stairs and let it tumble and roll down like a Slinky. The nobles all around gasped in shock and awe.

 

     “This kingdom truly is under terrible governance. Would not those present agree?”

 

From the audience about half of those gathered nodded and gave their ayes of approval, which were in turn quickly met with the boos of the other half. A seed of disorder and chaos which had been planted was beginning to sprout.

 

Deron leaned forward onto Hegg with a particularly poisonous looking grin “The princess and all her helpers cannot even handle a simple brigand problem.”

 

     “One easily handled if you would untie the hands of the princess, Deron!” Rissler's voice shouted out from the line of royal guards.

 

Stepping forward and presenting himself, the old man singled himself out, standing tall and stoic, his head turned toward Deron. Deron's expression turned into displeasure. His perfect tempo and rhythm thrown off by the interruption.

 

     Hegg yelled out commandingly, “Captain Rissler, stand down-”

 

     Deron held out his hand to silence him, “No. Let him speak. I wont deny my old teacher to speak his mind. I owe him at least that much respect.”

 

     “The Dragoons could settle the issue in a week. They merely need orders to ride.” Rissler shouted out.

 

     “Do you not care for the laws of the land, captain Rissler?”

 

The way he said 'captain'... It sounded like a loaded and pointed word at the expense of Rissler.

 

     “The dragoons are forbidden from riding for all but external requests and call to arms from the Empire. Turning them on the people withing Domdracveria is a sin that cannot be forgiven. Such as the covenant with the dragons of old commanded. Surely you, of all people, would not forget this?”

 

I could not see Rissler's face from this far away, but I think I could hear him grinding his teeth. There wasn't anything he could to say, so I turned toward Susan who was watching with rapt attention everything which had been said. She looked to me and nodded.

 

     “It is as the prince says. These 'Dragoons' are forbidden to ride in what I would postulate as domestic disputes. If the dragoons were to be levied by a larger empire... Having them killing each other when fighting for different houses would be... Problematic."

 

Susan's innate knowledge on the law of the land verified it. Something tells me this wasn't a law that is always strictly followed. Maybe broken when the spirit of the law is not compromised. Thinking back, Rose had said that one man we found still alive in the ruins of that camp was certainly not local. Would the law include protecting him? When I turned to ask Rose about it, her eyes were glazed over and she looked about ready to fall asleep. I guess I can't blame her, but it was poor work ethic to sleep on the job. When I was about to shake her awake the raised voiced of Rissler and Deron pulled me back.

 

     “The mountain paths and the forts built upon them, they are too narrow for armies to deploy and besiege. Dozens... No. Hundreds of men would lose their lives. The cold winds making short work out of any army attempting to clear out those caves and forts filled to the brim with brigands,” Rissler ranted. “How is it you managed to make it north past the blockade?”

 

     “Bandits and highwaymen are cowards. They only seek to risk aggravating the weak. When my escort marched north, the camp there scattered and fled before my arrival. They would not dare block my way. Although I understand your cowardice. What could become of the kingdom if many men were lost just trying to pull up the roots of a few bandits and rebels? A certain 'outside' force could easily overwhelm the north? Is that what you are worried about”

 

     “Deron, you...” Rissler growled.

 

It was plain as day that Rissler wanted to say something, but it was something so outrageous he didn't have the gall to do so. Actually, it is unfair for me to think of it like that. It is more like Rissler is smart and in control enough not to do so.

 

     “Just one more reason my dear sister should step aside. I would handle the problem far quicker and legally. The people of Domdracveria would be free to travel in their own kingdom again. The blockades will end, the goods will flow!... Except.... It seems from last I heard that the road south from the north is open...”

 

This can't be good. Heggs, Rissler and the other ministers froze on the spot. I think I know what is coming.

 

     “An entire camp, burned to the ground. Only one assailant was spotted. Not something any man could do. No. That's something only a dragoon could do. I must say I am very disappointed. That such an order would be issued in spite of the sacred laws of the covenant.”

 

     Rissler took another step out of line and menaced, “Deron...”

 

He was stopped in his tracks when the line of Deron's soldiers all shifted in perfect unison, the clatter of their steel plates as they stood down from full attention and readying to lunge. Each of them tense like a bow and ready to fire.

 

     “Even if it wasn't ordered. You are responsible for the actions of every dragoon. Are you not. Rissler? Oh. My apologies That was quite some time ago, wasn't it? You are captain of the royal guard now. Isn't that right, Commander? Retirement was never really an option after the injury though, was it? I'm sure the wife was understanding. I'm sure your children were upset.”

 

Again with the pointed and weighted words and Rissler looked about ready to explode from provocation.

 

     “These new events in mind-”

 

Here comes the blow. The ministers were all sweating up a storm. There was panic in their eyes. There wasn't anything they could do to stop what was about to happen now. I wasn't sure about all the details, but this sounded like a challenge of non-confidence if I ever heard one. Rissler was frozen in place, he dared not move any further and instigate a conflict. Heads would roll in the ensuing chaos, I'm sure the Princess' would the highest priority. It would hang on his pride and honor forever. The nobles all around looked on and watched, holding their breathes. The princess, the same as- wait. My gaze matched with her own. She wasn't watching her brother rant, rave and play to the crowd in his grand play. She was looking at me. Her eyes were pleading. There was no way those eyes were saying anything other than...

 

     “I do believe as Duke-”

 

Help me.

 

     “-I must declare...”

 

Damn it.

 

     I stepped forward out of the shadow, “I'm afraid you are mistaken, Prince Deron.” I shouted out over the man.

 

The room went absolutely silent and all the energy and attention floating in the room turned on me in an instant. It was almost enough to push me back into the shadowy corner, but instead I took another step and then another into the light as I climbed the stairs toward Deron. The guards seemed ready to pounce, but Deron waved them down, allowing me to approach.

 

     “And who might you be?” He asked dismissively.

 

     “The name is Laven,” I said. “I'm also the one that took care of the bandit problem.”

 

As I approached Deron did not relent in his dismissive appraisal of me. Dressed in my meager armor, the brown leather jerkin, the gauntlets, steel toed boots and the blue jeans (my only splash of color)... I was out of place among the gaudy and flashy dressed nobles with their luxurious dyed clothing.

 

     Deron laughed, “You? Excuse me for not believing you. If this is a joke, I suggest you speak the punchline before I become cross and have you punished for insolence,” He said jokingly

 

     “No. It's no joke. They were a rude bunch, so a few days ago, when I was passing through to reach Ifern, I had to deal with the lot of them.”

 

     “You?” Deron laughed, still in good spirits for now. “You and what army?”

 

     “No army necessary. Just we three,” I said as I waved my hand over Rose and Susan standing down below.

 

I couldn't quite make out the expressions on their faces, I knew that Rose was certainly awake now, but as for Susan...

 

     “A dragoon, a single wyvern and an unexpected surprise attack at night... but three? Besides, the camp was burnt to the ground and most of its inhabitants cut down and burnt before they could flee. I said don't forget your punch-”

 

     Susan finally let her voice bellow, “Such a task is simple for one under Laven's retinue. Neither will your pointed and disrespectful tongue be tolerated any further.”

 

Shifting under her cloak and climbing the stairs with her golden staff in hand, clanging against each step Susan moved to my side.

 

     Deron was not appreciating the new tone he was being talked down to with, “Who do you think you are to talk to-”

 

     “I ask the same of you Prince! You speak to King in Exile, Laven. Lord of what you call, The Barren Wastes.”

 

The court went into an uproar. I wasn't sure what Susan was up to now, but it was too late to contradict or interrupt her now. She'd have to explain this later. The minsters and Hegg looked surprised more than anyone. Deron was shocked for a moment, but thinking over it for a few seconds a skeptical expression returned to his face.

 

     “King in Exile? Barren Wastes? Forgive me for my skepticism... Who are you to declare such a thing with a straight face? Some kind of Magi?”

 

Susan didn't say a thing or even moved for a moment. Then she slid her paws from out under her sleeves and removed the hood over her head. The sight caused another fresh round of gasps from every corner of the room.

 

     With her opulent jewelry, jackal ears and inhuman paws for all to see, she declared, “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

 

The reaction from Deron was far more pronounced than anyone else and surprising to say the least. He was so calm, cool and charismatic before. Now he was backing down, almost terrified.

 

     I stepped forward as he retreated, with Susan following three steps behind and declared some fabricated revelations of my own, “There was no 'wyvern' responsible for what happened to those bandits. The fire and mayhem that took place, all of that rests on one woman...” I whipped my hand back and pointed toward Rose who was still standing dumbfounded. “That would be The Thorn Knight.”

 

Rose looked right and left. As if I could have been mentioning some other Thorn Knight in the same room. She then looked at me and pointed at herself as if to silently ask, 'Who? Me?'

 

Yes you. Play along Rose. For the love of god, just get it and play along.

 

     “Thorn Knight?” Deron said, stopping in his tracks at last. “That's preposterous.”

 

     “Hey! My name is Rose, not 'Preposterous'!” She shouted out in quick retort.

 

Spurned and insulted she at last climbed the stairs to my side and faced off with Deron. At my side she pulled the hood off her head and glared at Deron with fierce judgmental eyes. Another round of gasps, another clamor of voices from up high among the nobles.

 

     "Where do you get off thinking you can just call people names like that?" Rose said angrily. "You're supposed to be a Prince. You think you can just go around insulting girls like that and get away with it?"

 

Rose, I don't know what is going through your head or what you heard and I think I will just ignore it for now. Nevertheless, thank you.

 

     'It wasn't the dragoons?'

 

     'The Thorn Knight has returned from the north?'

 

     'I've heard stories. I wouldn't put it past her...'

 

The voices of all t he nobles had taken a complete one-eighty turn. Rose was playing along, somehow, for some reason. Susan was bolstering my credibility and I stared Deron down, unafraid of him when probably should be.

 

     “Monster mercenaries dear Sister?” Deron spat toward Violetta and her minsters. “Has our family fallen so low? Did you not think this kind of affront would-”

 

     “We're guests under the Princess' hospitality. Not mercenaries. We have not been paid nor did we seek it,” I said,

 

Which was technically true. How about that?

 

     “We don't want trouble during our stay. If all this was about some law being broken, now you know it hasn't. Was there anything else?”

 

Deron bit down on his lip and his eyes were so fulled of hate and all of it directed at me.

 

     “I'll remember this, Laven, King of Nothing. This isn't over.”

 

With no ceremony, no flair, or even a proper farewell Deron descended the stairs and made his way toward the exit to the court. Behind him all his tin soldiers formed up single file and followed him out.

 

I would later learn that he gathered all his troops and left Ifern immediately right then and there. Right now though, I felt the weight of the entire room on me. I was beginning to wonder if I had done the right thing.