1 Prologue

It was late on a night of the new moon.

A cloaked figure was moving swiftly through the dark halls of the Akeefa Fortress.

He wasn't supposed to be there, in the chief's family's living quarters. Usually, the only ones supposed to be there were the chief's family; the little boy with jet black curls, the baby girl, born only weeks earlier, and the mother and father. The guards stood outside.

But the chief's wife had died shortly after giving birth to her second child, and the chief had gone to war in dire need of a distraction from his grief, joining his troops as a commander assisting the Lette in the battle against the Stenne.

So the dearest friend of the chief's deceased wife cared for the two children now asleep in their beds.

The trespasser in the shadows had just got word from another Akeefa war commander that the Akeefa chief had vanished in battle. A search had been called for but if they weren't able to find him, somebody would have to step up.

The next in line Akeefa leader was revealed by the Mark of Fire. And as the chief's eldest child, the Mark of Fire was currently decorating the back of the left hand of the sleeping four-year-old boy to whose room the cloaked figure was now approaching.

Adrianus was determined that the power of Akeefa's leader not be passed on to the small child. But still, he was certain the Akeefa people would not accept anyone else because after all, it was the child who bore the Mark of Fire.

The only way to obtain it other than through birth was through murder.

Adrianus shifted a dagger on his belt.

He reached the nursery door, a beautiful door of light-colored wood covered in exquisite carvings of squirrels and birds and flowers and trees.

Adrianus stopped a few feet away from it, thinking.

Both children should be in there, and he intended to kill both of them, the baby first, then the heir. If the children's' caregiver was inside, he would kill her too. Being a long time warrior and Akeefa general, killing was something Adrianus had much practice in. But the murder of someone on his own side was something new to him. Let alone the murder of his leader's innocent children.

Adrianus made sure the hood of his cloak was securely pulled over his head of four-inch-long, chestnut-colored wavy hair and that all his throwing knives and both daggers were secure on his belt.

He placed one hand on the door handle and the other on his belt and braced himself for action.

He swung the door open as quickly and quietly as he could.

There wasn't time to register his relief at the door not creaking before Adrianus was pulling a throwing knife out of his belt and flinging it out to his right.

The caretaker dove to the ground almost right in time and the knife took only a small bit of one ear instead of her life.

She rolled and his next knife only just missed her.

At this rate, he realized he could throw all his knives and still have three victims left to kill. But the caretaker must die first, for her screams were most likely to call the guards to come. Adrianus moved towards her, but it was too late; the thoughts had already come to her and she began to scream.

She screamed as he came towards her, she screamed as she dodged around him, she screamed as his knife flew through the air and cut her arm, and she screamed as he pinned her to the wall and was about to kill her with his pre-sharpened dagger, but right then the guards barged in and Adrianus was knocked to the ground.

The caretaker scooped up the wailing baby from her rocker and pulled the panicked boy from his bed and fled the scene.