What Enchantment Hides - Book 1

Chapter 11

         The city of Grethdar was both busy and relaxed. There was a small market, about the same size as the one in the town of Vecturn. The people were better dressed and the houses and food stands were more grand. It was obvious they had enjoyed a prosperous and historical relationship with the city of Dorsha. Grethdar was much smaller than Dorsha, and yet so many things were familiar to the former fire dancer as she walked down the streets. There was a statue in the square of the sun god standing, half naked, one arm raised, above a maiden. The god was only covered with what looked like a thin sheet barely covering his lower parts as it hung down over one shoulder. The stone maiden at his feet clung to his leg as if desperate for his attention. Her clothing was somewhat simple yet attractive and elegant. She wore a dress that was open in the front to reveal her cleavage to him while the cord about her waist seemed to only sinch the dress together in mock modesty. The lower portion of her dress fell open at her upper thigh as if she sought to hide little to none of herself from him in her need for him. In Misheth’s raised hand was a flame and his other hand was holding a chunk of the woman’s long hair as if holding her head back so she had no choice but to plead with him. His face looked both intimidating and hungry. He wore sandals that wrapped up his shins and the woman was barefoot. A similar statue was in front of the temple in Dorsha. Although similar, this scene was much more tame. Fallon kept his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword as they made their way down the dirt streets, leading their horses. They had been directed to a small inn by a guard at the gate.

         The Gated Cottage lay just beyond the market down a side alley. The front half of the establishment that lay against the main street was a tavern while the quieter inn was behind where there was less foot traffic. A stable boy sat on a bucket outside the front door, throwing small stones in a puddle by a drain at the base of a wall. He was about fifteen and was tall, blonde and well built without being bulky. He offered to board their horses if they were intending to stay at the inn. Fallon nodded and they handed over the reins. He placed his hand on Calya’s back and they entered. It was quiet inside with a small counter just beyond the door. Fallon requested a room away from other guests, implying they may be expecting other travelers to join them in the coming days. The woman behind the counter was slightly rounded. She had a pretty face with light brown, curly hair that fell to just below her shoulders. She wore a simple, yet flattering green dress and had kind, brown eyes and a welcoming smile. They were told that she managed the inn while her husband ran the tavern up on the main street. It was quiet enough and her husband made sure that anyone who may give her trouble would be handled by him. The stablehand was their son who also looked out for his mother when she was alone in the inn. They also had a daughter who helped clean and tidy the rooms and make food for guests who wanted to enjoy a small, quiet meal in the morning instead of going to the rowdy tavern. The woman at the counter was very friendly and would have probably talked to them the rest of the afternoon if they had not excused themselves to their quarters. The family seemed genuine and Fallon mentioned in passing that although he had paid for two weeks, they may end up staying longer. She laughed heartily and told them they could stay a year if they really wanted to.

         They walked into their room and dropped their packs on the floor, looking around. There were two large beds, four lanterns - one by each bed, one by an embellished mirror with a sink, and one by the door. There were two pillows on each bed and a nice looking quilt as well. Fallon walked over to the sink and cranked water into it after placing the stopper in the bottom of the basin. He washed his face and dried it with a cloth hanging on the side of the basin.

         Calya had made her way to one of the beds and sat down. “So what now?”
         Fallon sat on the bed next to hers and looked at the ceiling, letting himself fall back and crossing his arms and legs so he was lying comfortably.
         “We make a plan to retake your throne and we send for allies.”

         Calya just sat there blinking for a moment. “What allies? I don’t have any allies. If you haven’t realized, I don’t actually have a throne yet.”
         The mercenary chuckled, not coldly, but as if it were directed at an oblivious toddler. “You have no allies? Did you already forget that you have an entire city of forest angels who are prepared to bow the knee to you?” He looked at her to gauge whether the thought had sunk in before continuing. “Is there no one else you have met on your journey who knows your identity and has vowed their loyalty?”

         “There is one small village. Tant. There is a hunter there. He was a blacksmith for my family years back and was exiled from Kezna when he remained loyal to the reign of my parents instead of the tyranny of the corrupt stewards."

         Fallon nodded in approval. “Is he the only one?”
         The princess thought for a moment. “There is Habbi, a healer, but he is quite elderly and hobbles with a cane. And then there is Cornelius, the prophet. I do not know of any others.”

         The mercenary considered this for a moment and the woman could see his expression change. A look of childish excitement she did not even know was possible came over his features as he sat up. “We will send out messengers to Tant and Ynhilay and wherever Cornelius is to alert their leaders of our need. Whoever decides to respond and come to our aid will march with us to Kezna where we will face Orin.”

         “But then what?” Calya asked, like a child anxious in the dark. “What happens when we get there? No one will know me. I have no authority. Having an army behind me does not give me authority. Especially a small army without real soldiers.”
         The man sighed heavily and swung his legs around the end of the bed to sit and face her. “You do have authority. Everyone will know you. You look exactly like your mother. You have only to carry yourself like a queen. And Orin already knows you.”

         “But I am not my mother, and…” she trailed off when she realized what else Fallon had said. “What? How does Orin already know me?”
         Fallon rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a strange look that she could not decipher. “You obviously have learned enough about your history to be confident enough in who you are. But I’m sure you do not know why your father went to war or why you were kidnapped.”

         She was taken back when she realized he must have the answers and it must have something to do with why he was so confident that her task would not be as hopeless as she anticipated. “Okay. Then please. Enlighten me.”
         He gave a sickly satisfied smile. “I’m sure people are going to be put to death for this…”

         “King Trayzer was informed by his second in command, Orin, that the kings of the Lowlands were plotting to attack Kezna. Their plan was to overtake and burn cities as they came and gathered what allies they could until they surrounded Kenza in an effort to destroy and rule the Highlands. He said they were plotting to enlist the help of mercenaries to clear a path. What he did not tell them, was that he incited the Lowland kings to start war and he was using the king’s treasury to pay off the mercenaries to take over possible allies in the smaller cities between Kezna and Mordin in order to rid the kings of small pockets of resistance in their lands and convince the king that war was imminent. Orin also had strategized with the rebellious and greedy kings to use a group of mercenaries, along with a small ranking of traitorous men in the king’s own legion to assassinate him during battle. The king prepared to leave at once, knowing that his commanders and counselors were skilled at acquiring information from across both the Highlands and Lowlands. With his trust in his right hand commander, he appointed him to watch over the queen with a small battalion of soldiers that he could choose to stay back with him. King Trayzer’s unfailing trust in Orin was his downfall. Weeks after the king had left his city, Orin sent word and a group of mercenaries made their move. They raided the palace courtyard and hall, aided by the king’s own soldiers who remained behind, traitors handpicked by the king’s right hand. They murdered the palace guards and kidnapped the infant princess from Etrias as she nursed her. They assaulted and defiled the queen before leaving her in the courtyard with a powerless prophet. By the time word of the princess’ kidnapping reached the king’s army, the king had been struck down in battle and the forces were frantic to make a truce with the enemy. They succeeded and returned home to their queen who had lost all will to live. The prophet set to work finding a trusted steward to reign until another ruler was crowned. The heartbroken and deeply humbled Orin was chosen since he was both a worthy battle commander and wise advisor.” Fallon watched for Calya’s reaction and continued. “When you gave your identity away in the trees at the outskirts of Barkit, the plan was to use you as leverage to gain more wealth and power from Orin since he had broken his deals with us in the past. You were sold by the mercenaries to the temple priests in Dorsha who were also paid off by Orin to keep your identity hidden.The goal was to make you work for the temple and eventually sacrifice you. If anything was traced back to Orin in the end, he could claim he never kidnapped or killed you, and he would have been correct. But you ruined his plan when you somehow ended up alive, aware of your own identity and on your own. We were to keep you as long as possible and send word to Orin. However, things changed again when, uh…” His voice faded out and he shifted uncomfortably, looking at one of the lit torches.
         “When Kikarii was executed?”

         He turned back, his fierce eyes meeting hers, a strange yet optimistic glint in them. “When he escaped.”

         Calya jumped up from the other bed, her mouth hanging open and her eyes showing her disbelief. “That’s impossible! You said he was executed!”
         He smiled mischievously in response. “I said a lot of things, highness. You think my men would have been frantic because of a simple, routine execution? No. They were frantic because someone broke through our defenses and rescued Kikarii from his cell without ever being seen. I was instructed to inform you that he was being executed. Soon after, I was instructed to execute you myself. We had only kept him as a way to help break you down.”
         She slowly sat back down and looked into space, the gears in her mind turning and the puzzle pieces sliding into place. “That was why you didn’t come back for a while. And then when you did…” She didn’t finish the sentence. But now she was more confused. “So… so why did you help me escape?”
         The other shrugged and looked somewhat bored with her question. “Hannon was beginning to get on my nerves and so were the other men. You were Orin’s source of pay, so I stole his reward from him. But that is not important right now. You are weeks from regaining your throne and being crowned queen of your realm and ruling all of Kezna and basically all of the Highlands. We need a battle plan, and we need it now.”
         She was frustrated at how dismissive he was of the shocking revelation he just laid out for her, but he was correct. If this did not succeed the world's greatest military ally and super power would be its greatest enemy and dictator. “Are you ready to be in the service of a queen, Fallon?” For the first time, she saw him smile a genuine, sincere smile.

         He was actually relieved that she wanted him in her service. “Yes, your highness.”

         She smiled back, but her demeanor had changed. He had noticed it slightly in Ynhilay, but it was unmistakable now. “Then get me a map.” She was becoming a queen.

         Many, many weeks had passed since Kikarii had been rescued from Harta. Nightmares still haunted him and nothing felt right. Small things held no pleasure for him. Not birds singing, animals scurrying to and fro, not sunrises or sunsets. His skin was marred, covered with scars from his months of torment in the fortress. The skin that once was flawless and smooth looked aged, discolored and even twisted in some places. When he had recuperated enough, he ran errands for Cornelius to keep himself busy and sparred during the day to get back into shape and stay in shape. He ran messages to and from Tant when he visited. Cornelius had reconnected with Gammir and Habbi and the prophet began spending a decent amount of time there. They reminisced about their years working in the service of the royal family and their shared disdain for Orin and his endless evil and corruption. Kikarii informed Traff and the others of Skara’s fate. A service was held and the townspeople wept bitterly. Yet none were as distraught as her brother.

         When the news was spoken, the tavern fell silent, all eyes focusing on him. Brinner ran out. Amberly covered her mouth and backed up, tears welling up in her eyes. Traff stood, unmoving for what seemed like an eternity. He slowly put down the glass he was holding and the towel he was drying it with. Then he screamed in agony. From his throat came the most gut wrenching, heartbreaking cry of grief one had ever heard. With one broad motion, he cleared the bar counter, throwing splintering glass through the air and across the floor. Customers jumped back, off of their stools, to avoid the oncoming ale mugs. He screamed and kicked over a stool behind the counter, his typical charm and easy going air replaced by a raging anger, frustration and pain so unyielding, the men backed even further away, afraid to come near. Amberly looked on, helpless and crying. Gammir unstrapped his sword at his waist and tossed it on a table, pushing through the crowd. The youthful, vibrant redhead sent the glasses under the counter shattering across the floor where he stood, his hands now covered in bloody slices from the thousands of shards.

         Gammir jumped the counter, grabbed the bartender by the arms and held him in an iron grip. “Traff! Stop it! You’re going to injure people!” The red haired man screamed in desperation and fought against the hunter’s hold. “Traff listen to me!” He spun the man around to face him and nodded behind him to Amberly and then the rest of the men in the room. “You’re going to hurt your wife, man! Breathe!” Traff came still, looked at his wife’s tear streaked and fearful face and then out at all his customers who had retreated to the far side of the tavern. And then sobs wracked his body. Gammir let him go slack and pulled him away from the shattered glass and into the back room, putting an arm around the man’s wife as well. The entire room was silent. Kikarii finally moved from his spot to the side of the bar. “I am sorry.” He bowed his head and took his leave.

         Weeks passed with Kikarii and Cornelius staying in Tant to help in the tavern until Traff could pull himself together. Then, one day, Brinner burst through the door with a small paper rolled up in his fingers. He held it high and ran up to the counter where Gammir, Kikarii, Traff, Cornelius and some other men were gathered. “A message from Grethdar!” he shouted and he slammed it down on the counter excitedly.

         “How did it come?” Traff asked, anxiously.

         Brinner excitedly pointed to the tiny piece of paper. “Messenger bird, uncle! How else?” Cornelius chuckled at the obvious answer and beckoned for the innkeeper to open it and read it to them all. It had been many moons since a messenger bird had carried any news to their small town. The last time was when king Trayzer and queen Etrias had passed and the steward claimed the throne.

         Everyone held their breath as Traff slowly, carefully unrolled the small parchment, his hands shaking and his breath unsteady. He read the words hastily scripted upon it.

         ALL LOYAL TO THE CROWN GATHER AT GRETHDAR NOW

         MAY CALYA’S REIGN NEVER CEASE

         The moment the words left Traff’s mouth, a mixture of joy, anxiety, anticipation and determination spread throughout the room. Simultaneous shouts could be heard from all around.

         “She’s alive!”

         “Long live the queen!”

         “May her reign never cease!”

         “She is gathering an army from her allies!”

         “May Orin be struck down!”

         Amidst all the commotion, Gammir rose, nodded his head and tightened his sword belt before heading for the door. Someone yelled after him. “Where are you going?”

          He looked back, his expression fierce and his jaw set. “The queen has sent her summons. Would you all who are skilled and able not also bear arms for her majesty who stayed among us as a friend?”

         Cornelius stood and joined him and a moment later, half the room was in a frenzy of men pushing through the door behind them to kiss their wives and children goodbye, saddle their horses, pack food and gear and answer the summons of the queen.

         Kikarii watched it all from the bar counter. Traff tapped his shoulder. “Aren’t you going as well?”

         Sadly, he shook his head. Putting a hand to the scars that marred his face and neck as a result of his months of captivity. “I am in no condition to go to battle. I may never be again. I will stay here to help with what I can until we hear word from Gammir in Kezna.” How in the world did she manage this? he thought to himself, shaking his head in amazement.

         A messenger broke through the trees and handed Raimor a small slip of paper brought in by a carrier bird. It had been a long time since messenger birds had been used instead of riders to bring news to their city. It was normally a royal decree and those had not been issued for them, even as an ally, for many years. He unrolled the paper in front of the gathering of watchers he was meeting with and read the words quickly. His face turned grave. Ariah stood next to him and took the paper from his hand. She smiled when she read the script and waited for her father to make the decision she already knew he would choose.
         “The queen of Kezna has returned from exile and has summoned all who remain loyal to the crown of Kezna to gather to her in the fields of Grethdar! Gather all capable men and supplies. All those able to leave by dawn must be ready! Spend tonight with your wives and children. At sunrise we are prepared for battle! Orin’s tyranny ends now.”

         The watchers raised their fists and shouted, “May the queen’s reign never cease!”

         Fallon stood and watched as the sun began to set. The birds were sent out at dawn with messages to Ynhilay and Tant. They could only hope there were enough who were loyal that would join them outside the city. This was a ridiculous plan. If they did not have an overwhelming force to bring with them, they would surely fail. He could not even be certain that Tant had a single warrior or that the forest angels would send an army and not simply a dignitary.

         Calya came back in from the counter in the front of the inn. “The birds have just returned, Fallon. The messages have been delivered and all we can do now is wait.”

         “Hmm,” was his only response, a low grunt from his throat.

         She looked up at his face and then back out at the disappearing sun. “You seem pensive.”

         “I’m surprised you aren’t.”

         She laughed, softly. “This is the entire reason I’m here.”

         He stared down at her, somewhat impressed by her level of calm. “True,” he agreed.

         “All these months you have stayed with me. And instead of leaving, you are helping to take over the throne of a kingdom with me.”

         He nodded to himself more than to her as he looked back up at the darkening sky. “I have overthrown more than one ruler in my life.” He was tall and built, an imposing figure compared to her five foot, lean frame. However, she was no longer a weak, slight, naive girl. She was a skilled queen, strong and determined, unafraid and resilient. He supposed he could give himself credit for hardening her and taking away her fear. Yet her resilience and determination were all her own. She was rebellious in her own way. She was free spirited and unpredictable. If he let her, she would probably even be fun. “Are you ready to rule, highness?"

         The princess thought for just a moment before answering, ignoring his first comment. “Is anyone really ready to rule? I think the person who feels they are ready is the least ready out of anyone. Just like the person who feels most worthy is probably the least. Wouldn’t you think?”

         Again, he nodded. “Well said, milady.” He spoke her title with respect now. There was no passivity or coldness in his voice.

         “And what about you, Fallon?”

         His eyes met hers. “What about me?”

         She shrugged and looked across the city square from where they stood at a stone pillar at the mouth of the alley. “You’ve traveled with me for months and it is obvious you are not who you were. But I cannot figure you out at all. You’re not cold and unfeeling. But you aren’t necessarily kind either. You are no longer cruel, but you are no gentleman.”

         He chuckled, genuinely amused. “Did you ever expect I would be a gentleman? I didn’t think I gave off that air.”

         She laughed to herself and shook her head. “Most certainly not. However, you’re somewhere in the middle. You are present, but aloof. You’re here, but you seem like you’d rather be anywhere else while at the same time choosing not to leave.”

         Fallon put a hand over his face and dragged it down to his chin. “All of that is accurate. If I’m being honest, I don’t know where I’m going to go once you succeed at this.”

         “What do you mean, ‘where you’re going to go’? I thought you were going to stay by my side and be a commander or something.”

         He looked at her, surprised. “No one in Kezna working for the royal family would take orders from a mercenary.”

         Calya let out such an ironic laugh that carried an authority he’d never heard before, he looked at her curiously. “You act as if they would have a choice.” He actually laughed along with her. The change in her was drastic and impressive. “What do you really want? Why don’t you just talk? We have quite a bit of time waiting for our army to arrive.”

         “Do I have to know what I want?” He gave her a sideways glance.

         She smirked at him and gestured down the street with her head. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.” She walked away.

         “Wait. What?” He yelled after her. She didn’t turn around so he caught up with her.

         They had been in Grethdar two weeks and had come up with a decent enough plan for getting into the city and up to the royal hall. They had no idea what they would find when they got there or how many people would come to their aid which made planning much more difficult. They talked a lot once the planning was finalized. And once their allies arrived, they would brief the group and head out. Fallon and Calya walked the city and conversed.

         “I cannot understand you!” he finally exclaimed, frustrated.

         “What can’t you understand?” she inquired.

         “How are you like you are?”

         She grinned and tried to keep from laughing at his question. “Do you want to reword that so it makes more sense?”

         “How do you feel things without being afraid of things? How are you not intimidated by anything while being cautious? How are you confident and still compassionate? Those don’t go together! Those combinations aren’t possible.”

         The princess could not help but chuckle ironically. “Is that why I bother you so much? Because I prove you wrong?”

         “Of course not.” He glared at a rock in the grass in front of them. They were sitting outside the northern gate on a small rock formation that allowed them to face out over the fields and farmers and children playing with the farm animals. “Yes!” Calya just smiled while watching a group of children chasing a flock of ducks. “Yes, it bothers me! How do you do that? How do you not hate life? How do you not hate me and everyone else?”

         Calya tilted her head and shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s just not worth it to me. It’s not worth being miserable and angry about everything. I wanted to hate you, but I ended up pitying you more.”

         “You pity me? Really?” His anger flared and he pushed himself off the rocks and spun to face her. “You think I’m pitiable? Am I pathetic to you? Am I like a child that you must consider their weakness, highness?”

         “Why are you so defensive?” She raised her voice to match his. “Your nightmares are what made me pity you. I felt bad because you were miserable. I can see the changes in you where you are not cold hearted and cruel anymore. I just want to know what is going through your head!”

         He started walking away, into the field. “I can’t stand you!”

         She jumped up, off of the stone now, yelling after him. “Then leave, Fallon! It’s what you have wanted to do this entire time!”

         He threw his hands up over his head and shouted behind him without looking over his shoulder. “Fine! If that’s what you want!

         “It’s what you want.” She lowered her voice and walked back through the gate to the inn. She couldn’t make herself admit that it was not what she wanted. In front of the alley, a man blocked her way. He was clearly intoxicated and was holding a bottle in one hand. He pushed her against the side of the tavern, just inside the alleyway, and placed his open palm and the hand holding the bottle against the outside wall.

         Fallon paced back and forth for a couple minutes angrily, telling himself to just take off and leave. But what was he actually angry about? I can’t tell her I don’t want to leave her. I don’t even know why I don’t know how to feel this. He rolled his eyes and blew his shaggy hair off his forehead. He made his way back toward where they were housed. He was staying and that was final. He heard a woman screaming and a couple other voices yelling. He raised his eyes from the dirt and saw the princess cornered by a drunkard who had one arm around her and the other on her thigh. A couple men yelled at him to leave her alone and he yelled back at them to mind their own business. It gave him just enough distraction to keep him from violating her before Fallon came near.

         Calya screamed desperately for help and squirmed and struggled in the man’s strong grip. Suddenly, the man was ripped off of her, throwing her to the ground. She raised her head to see Fallon with his hand on the man’s throat and his broadsword in his hand. “You keep your drunken, filthy fingers off of her! You so much as look at her again, I will sever each and every finger from your hand one at a time while you writhe, screaming in the dirt, begging for mercy.” He slammed the man’s head against the stone pillar, a burning fire of hatred and murder in his eyes. “I will kill you and anyone else who comes anywhere near her.” The man cried and pleaded for his life, sobering instantaneously. He had dropped his bottle and had his hands raised in defeat. People stared in sudden, uncomfortable silence all around.

         Calya got to her feet and yelled at the mercenary. “Fallon, let him go!” The man begged him to listen to the woman.

         “You don’t even look at her! You hear me?”

         “Fallon! Leave him alone now! Stop it!” He wouldn’t listen. She ran up to him and grabbed his sword arm, pulling it down and away from the man. Fallon loosened his grip slightly and looked at her. There was fear in her eyes, but not fear for herself or him. There was a fear for the life of her attacker. “Please. Stop. Let him go. I’m okay now.” He dropped his sword hand to his side and threw the man into the street. He sheathed his weapon and walked to the door to the inn, telling Calya to follow. She ran to catch up to him. “Fallon!” He didn’t stop. She grabbed his arm and yanked him around to face her, shoving him into the stone wall of the inn.

         “What do you want, Cal?”

         She hesitated. Did he just give her a nickname? “What… what was that? I thought you were intent on leaving. But instead, you went way overboard.”

         “I was protecting you.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

         “He was drunk, Fallon. That’s all! He wasn’t going to kill me. He was unarmed.”

         Fallon looked at her, somewhat helplessly, like a lost puppy that didn’t know what he did wrong. “What do you expect from me then?”

         “Just be a normal human being, Fallon.”

         He let out a low, heavy, aggravated sigh. “But you aren’t normal, Cal. You are my queen.”

         There was the name again. Did he just say his queen? She was getting distracted. “That doesn’t matter. He wasn’t attacking a queen. He was making a move on a young female walking alone while not in his right mind. That does not deserve death.”

         He growled in annoyance. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

         “Do you?” she asked, her voice high and upset.

         “No! I don’t! And I never will.” His voice dropped and he pulled his arm out of her grip, pausing just a moment to look at her hand before going inside. She followed him, ready to interrogate him, but he just kept walking to their room. He went inside, punched a wall and laid down on the bed silently, looking up at the textured ceiling. She opened her mouth to say something, but when she saw his face, she stopped. His expression stopped her in her tracks and made her rethink her words. Was he sad? He looked grieved. What was going on with this man?

         Raimor settled on the ground on the west side of the city, away from the farmlands and families. The two hundred-fifty accompanying angels descended to stand around him. They were all carrying swords and bows, with quivers strapped to their backs. They looked around curiously for someone to meet, but there was no one there. Raimor cleared his throat with a deep grunt. “I’ll go into the city and see if I can find a commander or the queen.”

         One angel stepped forward to speak. “Sir. I would advise against that. We don’t want to draw too much unnecessary attention to her inside the city.” Raimor gestured to the group of over two hundred angels with an open hand and cocked his head. “Really? That’s your reason?” He laughed and agreed to wait a little while to see if someone came out to meet them.

         The innkeeper’s son burst through the door of the inn yelling excitedly. Calya and Fallon turned around from the counter while counting out coins to pay for the room longer. “There are hundreds of soldiers outside the city gate!”

         His mother laughed and shook her head. “They are probably from Kezna. You shouldn’t be so dramatic about it. They are probably camping out on their way to Harta or the Lowlands.”
         “No, Mom! They are all forest angels! There are hundreds of forest angel warriors outside the western gate!”
         Calya and Fallon both looked shocked and exchanged excited glances before turning back to the woman who now stood unsure behind her counter. Fallon spoke up. “So how many more rooms do you have open?” His smile actually looked rather charming. The woman stuttered and tried to count, but was beginning to get quite anxious.
         He told her to take her time and pulled Calya after him out the door. The princess ran ahead of him, shouting enthusiastically for him to catch up. He broke into a run and they both raced each other to the western gate to meet the queen's army. Fallon was in front when they got to the entrance. He slid to a stop on the dirt when he saw the large gathering of forest angels beyond the wall. Calya ran into the back of him, failing to stop herself in time. He lurched forward and she stepped around him. A gasp escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand.
         Raimor and his warriors stared at the two young adults as if a couple teenagers just interrupted their parent’s business meeting. He stood and nodded. “Yes? Can I help you?” Fallon smiled knowingly and stepped away from Calya, nodding at her.
         She stepped forward, hoping to come off as confident and royal and appearing as neither. “How many did you bring with you?” He eyed her warily for a moment. She smirked and untied her cloak, letting it fall to the ground, to reveal her royal garments, her sword, her Ynhilayan bow and quiver and her two bags of throwing knives.
         Raimor met her gaze, saw her eye color, and stepped forward. He then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “May the queen’s reign never cease!” he boomed. His entire army followed suit and stopped their lounging and dropped to one knee, bowing their heads as well.
         Calya looked over at Fallon and gave him a look of are you seeing this before stepping forward to stand before the army. “Please, rise.” The entire army rose to their feet. “I am Calya, heir to the throne and proper queen of Kezna. I wish I could say that this will be an easy feat, but chances are, it will be near impossible. While we have been waiting here in this city, reports of war between Kezna and a longtime, major ally nearby have reached us. What would have been a matter of just getting into the city has now become entering a war zone to dethrone the current dictator. Your loyalty means more than words can express. If you are willing, we invite you to stay in the city inn with us until the rest of our men arrive.”
         “I am Raimor, head of the watchers and leader of the army of Ynhilay. You have our allegiance and our complete loyalty, your highness. But may I be so bold as to ask a question?”
         The princess nodded. “Of course you may. I am not a dictator, am I?” She smiled kindly.

         He nodded his agreement and spoke. “Are we really expecting more men? Are you sure more will come?”
         “Completely,” she replied confidently.

         That night, Raimor, Fallon and Calya stayed up, pouring over maps and discussing strategy. The princess and her guard explained their plan to the commander in detail. He nodded as they spoke, amazed at how they had come so close to Kezna without Calya being recognized. Calya let him know that his men were free to do whatever they pleased until the rest of their forces arrived. He nodded and returned to his men.

         The next morning Calya and Fallon left the inn and wandered around with one of the commanders from the army of Ynhilay. They went just outside the city and watched the townspeople working their fields and caring for their children. Calya was talking about Kezna and her goal for leadership. Meanwhile, Fallon and the older angel commander stood a few feet back. As she spoke, the commander chuckled quietly to himself and leaned over to the mercenary. “She is impressive, is she not?”

         The young man raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
         The older angel smiled knowingly. “You’re not that good at hiding it.”

         “Hiding what?” he asked, confused.
         "You look at her like you’d rather not look at anything else.”

         “I am her bodyguard. I am supposed to look at her," he retorted. “I am a mercenary. She is a queen. That is where it ends. My value lies only in my skill and my intelligence.”

         At this the commander laughed. “What better king to have!” he exclaimed joyfully.
         The young man felt awkward and out of place. “What are you ta-”

         He stopped short when Calya spun and looked at them suspiciously. “What about a king?”
         The commander nodded to her. “Your highness. I was merely pointing out the importance of having a good king by your side while you reign. But I will take my leave now.” He bowed his head in respect and walked back through the gate.

         The princess gave Fallon a strange look before shrugging and walking towards the fields. “So what did he say about having a good king?”

         He tried to think quickly, but the commander had left him without an escape. “He was saying that a good king must have a superior skill set and be very intelligent.”
         “Huh,” Calya responded, thinking for a moment. “If that is all that makes a good king, even you would fit into that role. Is that what he was saying?”

         His head snapped around. He looked like he had been caught breaking the rules and had nowhere to hide. “What?! Why would you ask that? Obviously if that’s what he was saying, it’s because he knows nothing about me.”

         The young woman let out a loud, but beautiful laugh and turned to take a seat on some rocks. “You aren’t good at being put on the spot are you?”
         Fallon’s frustration began to boil under the surface. “Only when it’s concerning unimportant matters that have no bearing on one’s life or reality.”
         Calya’s smile quickly faded to a frown. “It’s not unimportant, Fallon. Eventually I will need a king to rule with me. I didn’t think you could get offended and upset by a joke.”

         He cleared his throat and started walking toward the city gate again. “Well, I think it’s time for lunch.” Shaking her head, the princess followed him to the tavern for a bite to eat.