Part 1:8

Seth launched forward, grabbed the dagger from its sheath and slashed wildly at an unsuspecting Viscount, who, through practiced reflex, managed to raise his arm in defense. The dagger slipped through the gap between his vambrace and upper arm plate, slicing into the padded sleeve and drawing blood. The Viscount flailed backward from the child turned berserker and cursed.

Seth’s momentum took him past the cursing noble and he darted between the legs of the gathered men, deftly dodging their clumsy attempts to grab him. Without hesitation he ran, clutching the dagger in his hand.

The Viscount clutched at his arm, cursing and shouting. “Get him! I want him dead. I want him dead now!”

Seth emerged from between the stables and the smouldering wreck of their home, then turned and continued across the front yard and up the lane that led to the North road. Brack's men gave chase and he could hear their shouts and the whinnying of their horses as they galloped after him.

At the road he turned north towards Mr. Olmar’s farm, running as fast as he could. The thick trees on both sides of the road obscured his vision beyond the bend ahead. The perusing riders turned onto the road after him, drew steel, and urged their horses on. He knew there was no chance to outrun them.

The riders were almost on top of him as he neared the bend. Exhausted, he pushed himself as hard as he could, stumbling and bent forward in his effort to keep running. As the horses thundered around him he fell face first, grazing his hands and face on the stones and dirt. The riders passed over him then turned back to finish him off. More riders were coming from further up the road, galloping towards him. As a horse passed over him its hoof clipped him on the back of the head. Seth dropped his face into the dirt and closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the din of steel on steel and the grunts of men.

Seth's eyes opened and he found himself laying on a bedroll in a large, dark colored canvas tent. He bolted upright and winced. His muscles were sore and cramped and his stomach felt bruised. Touching his face he felt at the scabs forming on his grazed nose and cheek, and a lump on the back of his head throbbed. He looked around; not a tent, it was more a pavilion.

“You’re awake. Good,” said a deep voice.

Seth rubbed at his eyes. Sitting on a stool in the corner of the pavilion was a man dressed in a dark silk doublet, trimmed in silver, with a clean shirt and pants. His beard was neatly groomed and oiled. His hair was combed back, and his boots were immaculate. It all screamed noble.

“Where’s Lucas?” Seth asked, gently touching the lump on his head.

“Your brother is safe and will be pleased you are awake,” the noble said, remaining seated with his hands on top of his thighs. His expression was warm.

Seth went to stand but his head spun and he sat back.

“Take care young man, you have had quite the ordeal.”

“I need to see Lucas,” Seth said, hating how weak he felt.

“All in due time. But first I would have you answer my questions.”

“Who are you?” Seth asked looking around the pavilion for the exit.

The noble sighed. “I will answer this one question,” he said, his tone firming. “But you will answer my questions.” He stood and walked towards Seth. “I am Edward.” He stopped a few paces from the bed. “Do you know who those men were?”

Seth frowned and thought for a moment. Some of the fog clouding his mind drifted away and he remembered the Viscount. “Brack!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Lord Colton Brack.”

“The deed!” Seth blurted out.

“Deed?” Edward asked, now studying Seth closely.

“Yes the deed to my father's land.”

“I'm sorry but we didn't find a deed.”

Seth's shoulders slumped and he felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. With the deed gone, so too had his home and everything he had known.

“Why do you think they attacked?” Edward asked.

Seth thought for a moment. Brack had never talked of his intentions, just that he wanted everything of value. “I’m not sure,” Seth said quietly, his mind racing through the possibilities. “He wanted anything of value. Maybe he’s a robber baron?” he said, coming up short of any logical reasons why.

Edward stared at Seth for a long moment, his gaze calculating, weighing how much he should say. “A simple robber baron he was not.” He turned and walked to a small table near the stool and poured a cup of water from the jug there. “Colton Brack seeks a greater power and has decided on taking advantage of the war to the west to take it.” He handed the cup to Seth.

Seth drank, using the pause to gather his thoughts. “Where’s Brack now?”

“The Viscount and his knights have fled south into the wilderness. His other men will be hanged at dawn as traitors.”

“Why did they do this?” Seth asked, choking back tears. “We did nothing to them?”

Edward reached out to the boy and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “Your father was…”

“What has this to do with our father,” Seth snapped.

“Your father was a very influential man. When he and your mother decided to settle for a quiet life, they thought all the plots and schemes of the kingdom would leave them be, but others had a different idea.”

Seth pulled away. “Who are you really, and what do you know of my father?”

“Your father was more than he told you and served me in the Iliath rebellion. He was instrumental in quelling their uprising. He saved my life.”

Seth's mind swirled. His father had spoken of his days during the rebellion. “Y-your Duke Thane?”

Edward nodded.

He stared at the man, his mouth hung open.

“Normally people bow and scrape,” Edward chuckled. “But I’ll accept this.” He smiled, returning to the stool.

“Your safe now. In time I will help you rebuild your home. But for now and your brother can come and stay with me. I owe your parents that at least,” he said, his voice taking on a distant tone as though something from his past still haunted him.

The wind gusted, shaking yellow and brown leaves from the trees lining the North road. Seth and Lucas were hiding in a thicket, watching as the mounted knights trotted by. Further back on the road was an impatient Edward, mounted on his stallion and holding the reins of a spare horse as he watched his men file onto the road that would take them back to the castle in Tarrington.

“It’s time, remember what I told you.”

“I want to go with you,” Lucas whined.

“I told you, it’s not safe to follow me.”

“But what if you don’t come back?” Lucas asked as the tears gathered in his eyes.

“I’ll come back. Now go!”

Lucas hesitated, then burst from the bushes and ran towards Edward. Seth watched as they spoke. Lucas glanced over his shoulder and Edward's eyes turned toward the thicket. He could have sworn the Duke looked directly at him, but it was impossible, the bushes were too thick, and years of playing hide-go-seek in the forest had honed his hiding skills.

“I’ll come back; I promise,” Seth said, taking one last look at his brother. He swallowed down on the lump forming in his throat, wiped at his eyes, then disappeared deeper into the thicket and was gone.