Prince Noralv- Edge of Shadows Read online

  Our father would destroy the men who put his children in harm’s way. I tried to move my arms, but they were pinned to my back. Course fibers of rope had already begun to cut into my wrists. Even though I would not be blamed for our predicament, I felt ashamed for letting us get caught. All my training had failed me. Still, I wouldn’t give up hope yet.

  I could hear a murmur of discussion going on, what sounded like a handful of men. The name ‘Captain Murryl’ stood out during their conversation. Rolling to the right, I leaned up against something warm. Letting my fingers stretch out, I grabbed and poked at it.

  “Who’s touching me?” whispered a familiar voice.

  “Daria…?” I asked.

  “Thayne?”

  “It’s me.”

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  A slow striding pair of footsteps approached, silencing the chatter among the men.

  “We found the little darlings, Captain Murryl.” I recognized Averill’s gruff voice.

  “Bring them out. Let me see them,” a voice responded. I assumed it was the Captain. The voice was higher than I was expecting to hear, yet raspy.

  The floor beneath us creaked and swayed as someone stepped into it. We were in a cart. Probably outside of the city. But where? There was a firm grip around my arms, pulling me to my knees and dragged out of the cart. The taste of mud coated my tongue. I swallowed. Didn’t help.

  “I am here…” the voice said. “Release me…” My chest tightened. Where was the voice coming from? Was it from in me? The air around me? I had heard that beaulecraft was in everything including the air around us. Perhaps that was what I was hearing. The voice of beaulecraft?

  I was pulled about a dozen steps before being jerked to a halt. The bitter wind made my leather, fur-lined coat feel as thin as a silk tunic. The night had been long, and I was exhausted, though still acutely aware of everything around me.

  Crackle of fire. Murmuring voices. Bitter wind. Dark night. Throbbing head. Voice whispering.

  I am here. Seek me out… said the youth’s voice. I closed my eyes. Who was speaking to me?

  “We’ve got what we came for. We should fall back,” said one man, whose voice wasn’t part of the kidnappers at the berg. It was terse, young, and clear.

  “Fall back? We just got our edge. We can’t back down now,” retorted Captain Murryl. “Do you wish for a quick death? I can provide that without jeopardizing the cause. We stay here.” The sack was ripped off my head. “They’re leverage for communication,” said the Captain, his eyes inspecting my face.

  He was a short, rounded man, with bags under his eyes that gave him an ominous aura in the dancing orange light from the torches that some of the men carried. His eyes narrowed, and he flashed a toothy grin. My stomach turned, and I felt disgusted, yet I didn’t look away. It took every ounce in me not to spit on him.

  Daria was standing beside me, held by Averill. She side glanced, then looked straight ahead. No weakness must be shown. Despite the sack being pulled off, I couldn’t see much better. The white glow of the moon mixed with the orange of the torches made it so I could make out shadowed faces of men and women.

  “It’s an invitation to our deaths. The Cempa never wants to talk,” said the young one, pushing a pair of round spectacles higher on the bridge of his pointy nose. “It’s a miracle Eldar Noralv held a meeting with us.” He gestured with his slender hand between the Captain and himself.

  “Where did that meeting leave us, Roi? Hmmm?” The Captain pulled Roi’s collar down so they were face to face. “With nothing.” He grumbled then released the collar. “If we’re to work together, you will have to trust my methods. Shedding blood brings results.”

  “Hmph.” Roi looked at me and Daria then back to the Captain. “Am I to shed the blood of these children?”

  The Captain paused. “If the moment calls for it, yes.”

  “You won’t accomplish anything by kidnapping or killing us,” Daria said.

  “Keep quiet,” Roi warned.

  “If you think that because we’re children of royalty that we’ll be quiet and behave because you tell us to, you’re mistaken,” said Daria.

  “Why are they still here? Get them out of here.” The Captain gestured to Averill. “If they talk back, gag them.”

  “Yes, sir.” Averill cracked a smile. “Hey, Barnett. We get to gag the little princess,” he said to the man holding me. I didn’t get a good look at him but knew he was tall and had a firm grip of my arms.

  “Don’t you touch her,” I said.

  Averill brushed Daria’s cheek with his thumb. “Like that, prince?” He chuckled, and she jerked her head away from his hand. “Her body will keep me warm tonight.”

  “My father will find you and destroy you.” My face was hot with anger.

  “I’m counting on it,” Averill said. “Captain, I think the young prince needs a lesson in submission.”

  “Put the little miss inside. He can join her when you’re done. Make it quick.” The Captain almost turned away, but paused. “I do need proof of their capture. Start with his royal ear cuff.” With the wave of the Captain’s hand, Averill shoved Daria into Roi’s arms.

  “Here. Take her.” Pleasure crept over his face. Roi sighed, then pushed her away from me. She bucked and yanked with every step.

  I was left behind for Averill’s crooked abuse. Averill’s thrill for hurting others made my skin crawl.

  “No. Don’t. Thayne!” I heard Daria say in the distance. “Let me go!”

  Ignoring my own panic, I wondered where were they taking her. I scanned the darkness for tents or some place of dwelling. Then, just beyond the torchlight, I saw the outline of a small cabin with a faint light in the window.

  “Pay attention.” Averill landed a blow in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

  Doubling over, I tried to breathe in. It was useless.

  Barnett pushed me to the ground then kicked me in the face, knocking my head back like a rag doll. My cheek seared in pain. Two swift kicks met my abdomen. I rolled to my knees and tucked my head the best I could between them while the two of them took turns stomping and kicking me.

  I heard a dagger being released from its sheath. Averill crouched over me with his foot pressing into my throat. He pulled the tip of my pointed ear taut. The blade glimmered in the orange glow. I convulsed in blinding pain, letting out a stifled scream, as the blade carved the end of my ear clean off.

  “My little treasure,” said Averill. He held out my ear cuff, still attached to the bloody flesh, in front of my eyes. I panted in agony. Tears dripped. Blood soaked my hair and ran down my face, pooling under my chin.

  A red vapor began to emanate from my skin. I rolled to my side, pushing my ear into the snow. My ear was fiery with pain.

  Release me, said the voice.

  “Shut up,” I said. Every ounce of my will was on the cusp of panic. Just breathe, I told myself. Help is coming. My people will come for me.

  “Hey, Av. What is that?” said Barnett.

  They both stopped. Blood ran down the side of my face. My ribs ached.

  “I don’t know. Put him in the cabin,” said Averill

  Release me, the voice said again.

  “Shut up!”

  Release me!

  My will gave over to the voice. A wave of energy rushed throughout my body, taking up residence. Addicting power. Terrifying power. Euphoria. The energy expanded throughout my extremities with a mighty, unyielding force.

  “No! He knows beau– ” one of them shouted.

  The power explosion pulsed, and an intense wave of energy circled out from my body. The trees swayed and moaned in protest. As sudden as the explosive power entered, it was gone. Dissipated.

  I willed myself to my knees then to my feet. Everyone had been knocked out cold. Averill, Barnett, the few guards. Everyone. My heart pounded. Daria … I needed to get to her. I started to make my way toward the cabin. My legs shook and I stumbled but managed to keep
my feet under me. Slowing my pace, I made it closer to the cabin.

  The wooden door flew open. Shadows of men stood in the doorway.

  I ducked.

  “What’s going on out there?” the Captain commanded.

  Silence.

  My hands were bound. I was beaten. What could I possibly do?

  “The prince! He’s getting away,” came a shout.

  “We have the girl. Bring him back, dead or alive!” the Captain ordered.

  The blood ran into my feet. They were coming for me and my life didn’t matter. Picking a direction, I sprinted as fast as my legs would allow. A shadow darted behind me, moving closer. Snapping twigs and crunching snow. I was being chased.

  An arrow shot into a tree ahead. Another arrow whizzed past my ear. I ducked and weaved through the trees.

  The ground disappeared underfoot. Heels over head, I fell off a cliff. My back smacked into the frigid water. Bubbles rushed around me. My bindings prevented me from reaching out. I thrashed and struggled against the force of the swift current. Panic set in. The icy water dragged and heaved. My head broke the surface long enough for a breath before sucking me back down.

  My head hit something hard then my back smacked into the rocks of the riverbed. I tumbled in somersaults. Scraping. Heaving. Churning.

  The freezing water sucked the rest of my energy out of me. I was beginning to give up my fight. Then the current slowed enough for me to break the surface again. I pushed my legs down and felt the rocks at the bottom of the river. I regained my footing and stood, my thighs aching. Slowly, I waded through chest-high water to the shore where I collapsed, gasping and coughing. My muscles burned from the strain.

  Muddy water leaked into my mouth. I didn’t care. I tried to move again, but it felt as though a rocc beast was sitting on my back.

  For a long while, I lay there, wondering if the enemy would find me. Praying they didn’t. I waited long enough to see the morning purple hues shedding their light upon the ground. My lips, numb. My fingers, numb. My toes, numb. Everything numb. I shivered.

  A twig snapped, then something shuffled. My face burned with tears. The enemy had surely found me. I felt dead already.

  A wet, cold nose touched my cheek, then a warm tongue licked my swollen eye. I turned my head the best I could. A large, brindled dragon dog looked down at me. Around the dog’s front paw was a braided bracelet made of red yarn. A darkened figure ran up beside the dog, then knelt beside me.

  “For all things holy,” a man whispered. Something shimmered in his hand. A knife! I tried to move away, but my body wouldn’t respond. I whimpered.

  “You are safe, boy.” The man leaned over me and sliced off my bindings.

  I moaned as he grabbed two fistfuls of my tunic and hoisted me over the dog’s back. My consciousness faded in and out. The dragon dog got up, and, with its head low, it trudged alongside the man. Unconsciousness took over.

  When I awoke, I was in a room, warm and cozy. Bandages were wrapped tight around my wrists and head. I propped myself up against the headboard and winced as pain in my ribs and abdomen gripped me. I let the pain subside a bit before I pulled the quilt to my chin. Warmth never felt so good. I had feeling in my toes and fingers again.

  The room was small with three beds on one wall with wooden shelves, and a table on the opposite wall. By the door, a fireplace blazed a glorious fire.

  The small table next to my bed was scattered with strips of bandages, a mortar and pestle, and dried bundles of a variety of plants. The sweet and spicy aroma of the plants filled my nostrils. It wasn’t overbearing, but very noticeable.

  “Glad to see you awake,” cracked a voice from the doorway.

  A chilled breeze drifted in. The sudden presence of someone bolted me upright. I gripped the quilt and bowed my head forward as the pain in my … everywhere flared, then slowly settled again. The old man coughed and cleared his throat.

  “Calm yourself.” He raised a hand. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He slid the panel door shut behind him then shuffled his way beside my bed. He had a large nose, fluffy grey hair, and walked slightly hunched over. There was a warmth in his wrinkled face, and he had a soft voice that calmed my nerves. Steam rose from a clay bowl he carried. The plain smell of rice floated over to me, and my stomach responded with a growl. I longed for food. Any food.

  “Where am I?” I asked.

  He smiled, setting the bowl down on the table beside me. “This is Frid Village.”

  Frid village? I thought I had heard of the place. It was a small farming village, and if I paid attention to the little details of geography, I would know where in Theotania I was. No more than a day or two from House Noralv, I guessed.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “My name is Elms. At least, that’s what everyone calls me.” He winked. With a gentle touch of his finger on my chin, he turned my head to the side. “I’m the local Healer.” He poked my cheekbone. It hurt. I flinched.

  “Were you the one who found me?”

  “No, my boy. That was Orin. He is one of the farmers in our humble village,” he said, the back of his cool hand touching my forehead. I turned my head away from his touch. “You’ve been through a lot, I presume.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. My head swam with everything that had happened. The Mielonders. The Redtails. They still had her.

  He nodded in thought. “The rice is for you. Please eat it.” He gestured toward the clay bowl.

  “Oh.” I wanted to thank them both for helping me, but the words wouldn’t form. I felt lost. I was lost. Maybe the farmer would come by, and then I would properly give my thanks to both of them at the same time. I picked up the bowl and pulled the spoon that was jabbed in the middle of the thick white nourishment.

  “What about you, my boy?” he asked.

  Puzzled, I didn’t catch his meaning.

  “Your name? Where do you come from?” Elms asked.

  “It’s Thayne, sir. I’m from the capital city Stanrocc.” I didn’t know how much information I should give him. If I told him I was royalty, how fast would the word spread? How fast would the Redtails find me?

  Elms nodded. “A city boy, eh? Explains the fancy clothes.”

  I looked down at the grey night shirt I was wearing then looked to the end of the bed. My clothes weren’t there. To the desk across the room. No clothes. To the chair beside the bed. Nothing.

  “Where are my clothes?” I asked, flushing with embarrassment, praying that it was just Elms who dressed me.

  “Clarris has them. She is an efficient maidservant. I believe they are washed and now drying.” Elms ambled to the desk and pushed some bottles toward the wall. He then went to the shelves and pulled some kind of bundled herb from inside a wooden box and tossed it on the table.

  “Oh. That Clarris,” Elms mumbled. He continued searching the shelves, shuffling bottles and boxes around. “Put my things away. Too efficient.” At last, he produced an iron teapot and some fresh bandages. He tore the leaves off the stems of the bundled herb and tossed them into the iron pot.

  I devoured the sticky rice before I could even register the plain yet salty flavor. My belly was now happy.

  “Please, sir. I would like…”

  “Tea,” Elms said, interrupting.

  “Tea?”

  “It will take your fever down, and will help you sleep.”

  “I need to send word. Please. My family will worry.” Pulling back the quilt, I tried to stand, but my legs shook so much, I sat back down. “I can’t sleep now.”

  “Don’t worry, Thayne. Someone from the village will find you a way home.” Elms pulled a wooden chair up beside the fireplace and sat on it. From a large hook hung a large iron pot over the blazing fire. Elms dipped a wooden ladle inside the pot then poured steaming water into the teapot. “Time heals most wounds, and old age helps you forget the rest.”

  “My sister is … I need to get home as soon as possible.” I could hear my own regret.
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  Elms put his hand in the air. “Alright, young one, alright. I will ask around to see who can help you.” He poured the brew into a clay mug and handed it to me. “Drink up.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said then sipped the tea.

  It smelled and tasted like grass, but I didn’t complain. My mind wandered. How was Daria being treated? Was she even fed at all? Would they beat her, too? I had to think positive. Soldiers would be searching for her. For us. The Mielonders would pay for their actions. I put the mug on the table and wiped my hand down my face then around the back of my neck.

  “I will go inquire and will be back soon,” said Elms.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Elms shuffled out of the room and slid the door gently closed. I pulled the quilt around my shoulders, knees up to my chest, and stared at the mug on the side table. There was a chance for me to go back to Stanrocc. The hope of getting the chance to rescue Daria flickered in me. I settled deeper into the bed. Rest was important if I was to journey home.

  A man opened the door and shut it with a bang. He turned to look at me, narrowing his eyes, frowning. One of his eyes was black and the other silver. Over the black eye, from his forehead, down his cheek was a vertical scar deep in his face. It was creepy. On his shoulder sat a large raven, hunched and staring at me. I jumped out of the bed. The quilt fell to the floor. My heart thudded in my chest. Weakened, I used the wall to prop myself.

  Birds. I hated birds. When I was a child, I had innocently disturbed a nest that I didn’t know was in a bush. The mother and a flock of its friends dived at me, pecked me, and clawed me until my brother, Ryhan, saved me. Ever since, I hated birds.

  “No.” He stared at me in stunned disbelief. “It’s impossible...”

  “What? Who are you?” I asked.

  “I am Quentin. A Hunter from the Heardnebbian Order, and you, boy, are under arrest.”

  Tam helped with the mucking with the promise that I would tell him what Skylar found out about what was going on. I felt guilty about making him help me with my chores, so I promised myself that I would help him after breakfast. Even though I had Tam’s help, I was still behind on my chores. We all were. The Headmaster gave us extra due to the upcoming Spring Festival Tournament.