PART 1

Cara and her party caught up to the main army, all foot soldiers. Upon finding out Xerath and the horsemen rushed on ahead in order to reach Unari on time, Cara cursed and kept riding, leaving the army behind.

She had ten guards, enough to protect her if anything bad happened but it wasn’t her main concern. She had to tell Xerath of Amira’s betrayal. She had killed Jebbin.

Jebbin had written her name on the stone with his own blood before dying. With his final breath, he warned them. Even till the end, Jebbin worked to save the people he cared for. He knew Erik was in danger now that Amira would be close to him.

Amira had many opportunities to kill him, why she hadn’t, Cara would never know. The only thing on her mind now was to get to Unari and warn her husband. Erik would be the most likely target but her priority was Xerath’s safety.

“How many traitors were in their presence,” she wondered. “Was she the one that attacked her all those years ago? Did she kill her son, Asar?” her mind raced.

“No.” she thought. “The assassin was a male, he had to be.” The speed and strength the assassin had was incredible and Cara couldn’t image a woman overpowering even Xerath.

Thankfully, the army had spare horses, in which she commandeered for her and her guards to continue without them. Their fresh horses galloped with vigor and speed. They were making good time, which gave her hope of reaching Unari in time.

As she left Xerixes, she had been informed that all their messenger birds hadn’t returned, making her believe someone was shooting them down before they could deliver any messages to Unari.

This strengthened her belief that more enemies were among them than she previously believed. How many, she couldn’t guess, only that there were many and they were conspiring against them. She would not let her husband die. If she had to personally deliver the message, she would without hesitation. Thus, she rode hard, toward the city, willing her steed to move faster.

PART 2

Xerath heard a sword clang from a room down the hall as he passed through the castle. He had just spoken with lord Landis on the situation of Unari. Personally, Xerath despised the lazy and cowardly man. After things settled he would be replacing him after how poorly he dealt with the situation.

Without Kyburn, Landis would have locked them all outside and left them to defend themselves. If not for Kyburn’s position and influence, everyone knew Unari would have fallen under Landis’ supervision.

Perhaps he would make Kyburn lord of Unari and strip Landis of his title where he could spend his days on his own personal estate. God knew Kyburn deserved it. Cara would agree with the idea and it would bring Kyburn closer to Xerixes.

Stalking down the hall, Xerath approached the room where the noise had come from. It was Erik’s room. A moment later, a high pitched scream came from the other side.

“Guards!” he shouted down the halls.

Grabbing the latch, Xerath began opening the door only to find it yanked inward by someone else. He was met, face to face with the assassin that had killed his son. He wore a cloth over his face and he was dressed in the same garbs the day his son had been killed.

“Assassi-!” Xerath was cut off as the hooded figure rushed him.

Erik’s sword, Frostmoon slid out from behind the black cape, nearly impaling him against the wall. The assassin slammed him hard against the stone but Xerath shifted to the side just in time to dodge the Frostrium steel blade. Sinking an inch into the stone, the blue blade wouldn't budge and he released the sword before punching him scare in the jaw.

Stars lit his vision but Xerath retaliated with a fist of his own, nearly breaking his fingers from the impact. Rage and adrenaline surged through him, and his body swelled with energy, and the desire to see this man pay for his crimes outweighed any logical thought.

Xerath followed up with a knee to the man’s gut, winding him. Lifting his elbow up, Xerath slammed down with all his might, this arm screaming from the force. He connected his elbow to the assassin’s back, sending him crashing to the ground. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to phase him, as he brought his head back up and connected his head with Xerath’s lower jaw, nearly making him bite his tongue off.

His whole head jarred from the blow, sending him flying back into the wall, and hitting his head against the stone. A dagger slid into his rib, making him shout in pain. The cold steel tore through his flesh and in between his ribs.

Before it sank deeper, Xerath slammed his right elbow down again and connected to the forearm of the assassin, causing the dagger to slip out of his hands. The hooded figure brought his fist up again and buried it in the fresh wound.

Xerath bellowed again in pain but at this point, several guards were rushing for them.

“Assassin!” the castle echoed.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Xerath headbutted the man in black which caused his own vision to go black for a moment. Toppling to the floor, Xerath opened his eyes to the assassin, fleeing down the hall, away from the guards.

All but one chased the man. Bending down, one guard checked on the king, his head was bleeding and his right rib was soaked as well.

“Sire. You are wounded.” the guard looked frightened. He was young but he kept calm. “Doctor!” he shouted as more guards came.

“I’m fine.” Xerath shook his head. “The cut isn’t deep. My head hurts more than anything.”

Frostmoon clanged to the floor next to them, it finally fell from being embedded in the stone. Xerath’s gaze lifted to the room in front of him and for the first time, he saw the scene in Erik’s room.

Amira lay crying on the floor, her face and hands bloody. Sobbing over Erik’s dead form, her body shook from convulsing cries. Her face, buried in his chest, smearing more blood on her.

Xerath stumbled to his feet, all the while the guard protested to keep still. Ignoring the advice, Xerath slowly walked into the room and stood over them.

“What happened,” he whispered, anger rising in him. Not only was the assassin getting away, but he had also killed Erik and nearly killed him. “Did you get a good look at him?” Xerath asked, his hand clutched to his side.

“No.” she sobbed. “He came in while I was giving Erik food,” Amira said in short gasps, tears flowing down her face. “He choked me till I thought I was dead,” she lifted her chin to show the marks around her neck. “Then stabbed him to death. He tried to fight back but…” she trailed off.

“Come away from him,” Xerath said softly, trying to console her. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

“If only…” she choked. “If only I had seen him enter. I could have screamed for help.” Amira cried.

More guards stopped at the doorway, frozen in shock to see the king of Vulkira lying on the floor dead. The scene was a gory one. Blood soaked the stone and Xerath took one step back to avoid the ever-increasing pool of blood around him.

“Get her out of here,” he ordered the guard. “And wake Rayman.” he sighed heavily.

Carefully, they took Amira away, removing her from the horrible scene. “What should we do with his body?”

“This is going to kill him,” Xerath whispered under his breath, then addressed the guards. “I want the whole city on lockdown. Every guard on high alert. We may be able to catch him before he leaves the city. I want two guards at Trygve’s room and two on Rayman’s. Put three on Kyburn’s room for me too.”

“What about you sire?” one asked. “You are wounded.”

“I’m fine for now,” he replied. “Get Rayman here immediately. He will decide what we do with the body. Put a blanket over him.”

Xerath stepped into the blood and knelt down next to the young king. His brother in law’s body was already growing cold and the blood thickened from the wounds. He was shirtless and he got a good look at the multiple stab wounds. Erik had gone down fighting, even without an arm.

He and Erik were never close but he felt a deep loss creep in, like a void that he didn't know was there until seeing Erik’s cold eyes staring at nothing. His thoughts went to Cara, he had to send her a letter tonight. Her brother was dead, the brother she had sacrificed so much for. Losing family was never easy but he was all she had left. This would be a devastating blow to her and just as she was moving past their son’s death and working through their problems.

Another had once again arisen, a bloody past which now killed her son and brother. The same man. Though Xerath recognized the eyes from somewhere. It was the only feature he had noticed in the swift exchange of blows. He wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

Gently, Xerath closed Erik’s eyes tenderly with his fingers and said a prayer over him. The guard brought a white blanket to him and handed him the soft cloth. Unfolding the blanket, Xerath spread the sheet over Erik’s still form.

“Where is Rayman?” he asked.

“Two guards left the moment you said to get him, sire.” a guard replied. “They should be here any minute now.”

Xerath let out a heavy sigh, his emotions threatening to overcome him. Erik dead, Asar dead, the assassin escaping again. It was too much. Tears welled in his eyes but he fought them back, composing himself.

Clearing his throat, Xerath stood just as he heard a voice shouting down the halls.

“Where is he!” the voice echoed through the castle and Xerath's heart froze, feeling sickened by the pain and worry in that voice.

“Where is Erik!” Rayman shouted. “Where is my king!” he could be heard shoving past several guards then came to a stop at the door.

A look so desperate and painful, Xerath looked away. Sobs of pure sorrow came from Rayman. Erik had never told him directly of the relationship between Rayman and the king but through Cara, Xerath knew it was like a father seeing his son dead on the floor.

Rayman wailed and tears burst forth, gushing down his face, “Erik! NO! NO! NO!” he repeated over and over again.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Rayman fell to his knees and uncovered his face, revealing the pale face of Erik. “Why! Erik! No!”

A full minute went by, as the guard and Xerath stood frozen, watching the grieving man. No one moved or said a word, unsure how to help Rayman. Each man in that room knew all too well what it felt like to lose someone dear to them.

“Who did this?” Rayman whispered in a low and trembling tone.

“I-” Xerath started.

“Who!” Rayman jerked his head around and his eyes bore into Xerath’s.

“I believe it was the same assassin that killed my son,” Xerath said slowly. “I got a good look at his eyes.”

“Did you recognize him?” Rayman sneered in anger, wishing to find something to take his anger out on.

“After much thought.” Xerath paused then sighed. “I can’t say for sure,” he said. “Only that he looked familiar. Someone I know or have met before. I believe he was also the man in Riqun who also nearly killed me.”

“Whoever he is.” Rayman spat. “I’ll kill him. No matter what it takes. I’ll kill him.”

Xerath frowned, setting his gaze on the hatred filled man. His own anger rising at the loss, but anger wasn’t the answer, he knew. Only calculation and strategy would prevail against a foe who lived in the shadows.

More than ever, Xerath needed a plan to catch the man in the act. Something that would catch him off guard and then they would have the drop on them. A plan started forming in his mind. A plan that made him sick at the thought but he knew it would work.

“Don’t worry,” Xerath said to Rayman. “He will pay for what he has done.”