Prologue
The tried-and-true Battalion One trudged through resplendent double doors, entering the king’s hall with heavy hearts. They had not lost a single man of their company in battle, nor did any of them bear more than a scratch, yet they were somber as a funeral procession. Sweet scents of tropical flowers garnished the ocean air and washed over them unnoticed. The polished marble floors and carven pillars had never garnered such little attention as today. No, today was as grave a day as any battle they’d seen. They’d been dreading this day for weeks, but they approached the throne with the duty that weighed heavily on their hearts.
King Laiodon's golden throne sat above where the marble floor rose in broad, glossy steps. His short, thick hair was flecked with grey at the temples, like streaks of silver in dark stone. He wore a simple golden diadem inlaid with three large emeralds surrounded with small pearls and diamonds. The rings upon his fingers held priceless gems, cut by master jewelers, yet they were dwarfed by the strength in Laiodon’s hands. Those hands preferred a sword or a pair of leather reins to a scepter, and when King Laiodon raised his palm toward Battalion One in greeting, it was a gesture of friendship.
The entire battalion saluted, weary and filled with grief. Odis, their second in command, removed his helmet and waited to speak. How could he meet that hazel-grey gaze when he spoke the words?
The king looked over the soldiers questioningly. They were unharmed. He’d seen them before in much worse shape than this. And yet, they looked like their very spirits were broken. “Where is your captain?” His golden voice echoed in the hall.
Their heads collectively dropped lower.
“He’s gone, your Majesty.” Odis finally said.
His Majesty froze. “My son is...?” He couldn’t finish the sentence. ’Dead’ sounded so final.
“No.” Odis said quickly. “Not that we know of. We’re not sure, sire.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a calloused hand. The man’s battle-hardened face trembled before he could stop it. “He traded himself to the enemy as a prisoner. In exchange for our lives.”
The king exhaled long and slow, as if to release the air before it was forced from his lungs. “Do they know who he is?”
“No, lord. Just that he was...is our captain.”
“Praise be for that.” King Laiodon looked at each of them briefly. Their faces echoed the grief that was sinking into the king’s chest like a knife. They loved their captain as much as any soldier could. “You all are dismissed from duty until you are ready to return.”
Odis nodded, looked around at his men, and walked away. The rest of Battalion One did the same. They'd marched without rest to make it to the capitol as quickly as they had. Perhaps sleep would drown their grief for a time.
Laiodon waved a hand at his scribe sitting at the base of one of the pillars. “Summon my advisors. Bring them as quickly as they’ll come.”
The king sat silently, waiting, pushing away his sorrow, wrestling with his options. He could not invade Hespia, not even for his own son. He’d been trying to prevent war for a decade already, though he didn’t expect peace to last much longer the way Azaz was pushing his boundaries, even turning some of Belden’s own citizens against the crown. War might be inevitable.
However, Laiodon could not justify starting a bloody conflict to rescue his son. Understandable as it might be, he could not spend the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands of men, on one man, no matter who it was. To top things off, as soon as the Hespians discovered who their “captain of the guard” was, Emperor Azaz would take full advantage. He would make demands which King Laiodon could not meet, and Eben would die a slow, torturous death. Azaz enjoyed things like that.
When the advisors arrived, Laiodon filled them in and summarized his thoughts. “I cannot do this thing. I cannot send your sons into battle to save mine.” He spread his hands on the table in surrender. “I have three other sons that can take his place as heir, if need be. We can only pray he escapes.”
A short, balding man spoke up. Lord Alquious, a man twenty years Laiodon’s senior. He’d been with him through thick and thin, and often was a source of sound, if unconventional, wisdom. “What if he had help?” Alquious said.
Laiodon shook his head. “My top generals are all too recognizable, or too old, to do this. My younger ones do not have the skill it would require.”
“Not them.” Alquious leaned forward meaningfully.
Who...Laiodon stopped before the word left his lips. There was only one man who could do a rescue mission of this nature. One man, if he was still alive. If he was even willing to help the crown after he’d been sentenced unfairly under the king’s own justice system. Yet, when the king met Alquious’ gaze, hope gleamed in his eyes. “Find me The Ghostblade. Pay him any price he wishes, with a full pardon. Let’s pray he hasn’t broken. If there’s one man who would risk everything for my son, it’s him.”
This is my first book and is a work in progress! I hope you enjoy. Feel free to comment on things you like (or didn't)!
Please do not ask me to edit your literary works. I don't have the time.
To previous readers: I'm revamping my fantasy world, and this prologue is the beginning of a more complex worldbuilding endeavor. I'll continue working on chapters that are farther along, but I will be (eventually) fixing all previous chapters published.
