The man with the one eye walked off, followed by his men. To Gavin, it looked as if Milton was betraying Nisila. He could not hear them from where he was, but he could see that it was a civil conversation. They had reached an understanding.

Gavin surmised that Milton was a man of sense. After trying to fight and losing, he saw the futility in resisting. He likely traded the prince for his own son’s life. The old knight would give them up without a second thought.

If it were him in that situation, Gavin would have made the same decision. As he looked on, Gavin saw that the young warrior who was taken away earlier had returned. Milton looked up and began to say something but the young man drew his sword and plunged the blade into the knight’s neck. Milton grimaced in pain as he slowly fell to his knees, then face down in the mud. The other hostages cried out, and the slaughter began.

Gavin misread everything he witnessed. The one-eyed man betrayed Milton to his demise. There was no saving Nisila and the two young boys. With Milton and the scholar dead, the prince was now on his own. Gavin had to get himself out or end up on the end of a blade. To stay alive, he had to leave Nisila and the boys behind.

He quickly rummaged through the kitchen and stuffed whatever food he could find into an abandoned sack he found on a wooden stool. With his booty slung over his shoulder, he carefully inspected the back before making his escape. After making sure the area was clear, he made his way back to the gate.

As Gavin stepped out, a man came around the corner with his hands fumbling at his belt.

They both froze when they made eye contact. Gavin did not hesitate to attack, swinging his sack of food like a bat. The man threw up his hands defensively, and Gavin charged. He took the man down and clenched his mouth shut. Gavin reached for his dagger; the man tried to yell and twisted, got his mouth free, biting into Gavin’s hand.

They rolled, and the man got on top and pulled his sword, raising the weapon to stab. Gavin caught his wrist and punched him in the throat. The man gagged, giving Gavin just enough time to get the upper hand.

They rolled once more in the wet grass, with Gavin gaining top position. He got hold of the man’s sword and turned the point to his chest, applying pressure with the weight of his body. The man held on to Gavin’s arm. The sword hung in limbo between the two men.

Seeing his advantage, Gavin used his body weight to push the sword down. The man did not have a chance to cry out. The sword cut through his boiled leather and the blade entered his heart. The warrior lay dead upon the ground with a look of shock frozen upon his face.

Gavin stood up and quickly looked around, knowing another enemy could appear at any moment. Now that the immediate danger had passed, he recognized the dead warrior. It was the same youth who murdered Milton. One cold turn deserves another, Gavin thought. The food items in his sack were scattered all over the ground. He grabbed the bag with whatever was left within it and made his way to the back gate.

He had complicated his situation. It would not take long for them to notice the man was missing. Once they found the body, they would figure out Gavin’s escape route and swiftly trace his escape. Gavin came to the gate and peered out into the darkness.

Directly in front of him, within the shadow of the trees, Nisila and the two boys remained hidden. He looked to his left along the wall. He could go that way without them ever knowing.

With Nisila hurt she and the boys would easily be captured the moment the men inside the holdfast began searching. That would buy him all the time he needed. They did not care for him; they wanted the prince.

If he went left, they might trace his tracks and completely ignore searching anywhere else. In that case, returning to Nisila was likely a better plan. If they caught up to him, he could use them as bait to cover his escape.

The thought of abandoning Nisila and the two helpless boys caused a pang of guilt to wash over him. It was a low move, even if they were strangers who meant nothing to him. They would be caught unaware with no way of defending themselves.

There was a time earlier in his life where the decision would have been simple, and he would have helped them and kept his word. Ever since the end of the war between the Paladins and the Deode Empire, everything had changed. The honorable Paladins retreated to their realm and left the world in tatters. They broke the chains of slavery, and Gavin for his part, helped them do that.

In the end, the Paladins left the world to fend for itself. Slavery was replaced with slaughter as newly freed nations fought for control and power. It was part of the reason he found himself in this predicament. He was trying to save a prince who lost his country to a more powerful enemy. Even if the boy managed to become king, he would ultimately turn into the monster he wanted to replace. It was inevitable.

What was the point of sacrificing one’s life if nothing changed? There would be more princes and more kings, all fighting one another while everyone beneath them suffered for their pride and greed.

After the great war, like everyone around him, he decided to put himself first. He was doing it for years now, and it kept him alive while many others around him died. Adore came to his mind at that moment. An honorable warrior who held to the old ways, yet he was dead in a remote forest with nothing to show for it.

Gavin knew the boy was doomed. There was no place in this world for a sheltered prince. Several of his brothers died because of this child, who was damned if he wore a crown and damned if he didn’t.

As he stood upon the brink with this choice before him, survival to his left and death directly ahead, he knew he could only choose but one path. The quest was a losing endeavor; he could not save them alone. It did not matter how great of a reward Nisila offered because as enticing as the gold was, his life was much more precious to him.

If he could pull it off, he could gain favor with Eric, the leader of the New Brotherhood. He could get any position he wished for on the southern border and with gold in his pocket to spare. He only needed to return the whelp to Arlem. What happened to him after that was not his concern. Just get him to Arlem. No, it was foolish, the odds were against him.

Gavin leaned left to leave and could not help but think of Adore as an image of his face appeared in his mind. He paused and sighed.

In a low crouching run, he headed across the grassy plain toward Nisila and the two boys. He cursed himself for a fool. The inner voice that urged him to turn away and preserve his skin became louder and louder with every step he took. However, he did not stop and turn around. He got his stubbornness from his mother; he decided to blame her when they finally met again in the afterlife.

The potential reward outweighed the risk, that was the lie he told himself. He had to believe that was his reason for helping them. Anything less would mean he was forfeiting his life for another, and he pledged to himself that he would never do such a foolish thing again. Yet here he was, once again running into danger.

Gavin was not a paladin, and he would never be a hero. That was a hope and dream that vanished years ago. He pressed on and leaped into the shadow of the bushes to rejoin them.

* * *

Beau kept his eyes on the wall of the holdfast, as butterflies fluttered within his stomach. He could feel Julius sitting next to him, unmoving and focused on the same thing. His cousin wanted his father to emerge from the gates.

“What is taking so long,” Julius said. “Maybe we should go in.”

With much effort, Nisila scooted over to the boys. “You cannot. Give him a moment. We do not know what is happening within those walls. We cannot give them a chance to capture us.”

“Why put our fate in his hands?” Julius asked her. “I don’t trust him. He was all but ready to leave us in the woods earlier. Beau, do you not see what he is?”

Beau sighed, knowing there was truth in what Julius was saying. “He made his choice based on the strength of the reward. If there are enemies in the holdfast, and they catch him, he will give us up without a second thought; he does not care about us. Unfortunately, we do not have any options. Without him, we do not know the way to Morris Port, and we need protection.”

“My father knows the way,” Julius said. “We are going to be ambushed again. I will not wait for death. I say we go. Are you with me, Beau?”

“You cannot go, it is too dangerous,” Nisila said as she grabbed Julius by his shoulder. “He could have left us to die, but he did not. I know he may seem like a scoundrel, but there is more to him than what he shows us. I know it.” Julius pushed her hand off his shoulder.

“You are the fool my father said you were,” Julius sneered. He clenched his fist and glared over at the holdfast as if he would run at it. “Beau, are you with me? She cannot stop us.”

Beau hesitated for a moment. He knew his cousin was afraid and that the fear was influencing his decision. His cousin’s motivation was to find his father, and nothing would get in his way. Beau looked over at Nisila, sitting on the ground next to him, every breath she took sounding like a struggle. It was true, she could not stop them, not in her state, yet he could not find it in himself to leave her behind. He also had a hard time mustering the courage to venture toward the holdfast.

“Listen, cousin, let us take a moment to think this through,” Beau said. Just as Julius began to argue, Gavin came crashing through the bushes. Beau leaped into his cousin’s arms, and they both fell to the ground.

“Are you mad?” Nisila said. “What took you so long? What did you see.”

“We have to go,” Gavin said as he gathered his things.

Beau and Julius, bewildered by Gavin’s response, quickly got up. Julius confronted him. “What do you mean we have to go? Where is my father, was he not in the holdfast?” Gavin ignored him as he adjusted his sword and started to get Nisila up.

“Get moving,” Gavin ordered them. “We have no time to argue.”

“We will not go until you tell us what happened in the holdfast,” Beau said as he stood with his cousin. He did not want Gavin to walk out of the gates; he was expecting Milton and Corin.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Where is my father!” Julius shouted.

Gavin spun on the boy angrily. “Your father is—“

“Gone,” Nisila cut in and Gavin shot her a look. “Your father and the scholar have fled. If not, he would have come to fetch us himself. I suspect enemies occupy your home now. Is that not the truth, Gavin?” Beau looked at the two of them, and he could feel the tension. There was a battle of wills taking place before him, but it was unclear who would win.

“Well, is it not the truth, Gavin?” Nisila said, again. “Go on, tell them.”

“It is true,” Gavin muttered reluctantly. “They were not there...The place is crawling with men not friendly to us. I almost got killed by a patrolling guard. I had to kill the bastard, and they will find the body. Once the alarm goes up, we are done. We have to leave.”

Julius was stunned as the news hit him. “My father would never have left without me. You are a liar!” Julius shouted. Gavin struck him with a backhanded slap, knocking the boy to the ground. Beau dived upon his cousin to protect him from Gavin.

“The fool will get me killed,” Gavin snapped. “First he shouts loud enough for those bastards to hear him, and in the same breath calls me a liar.”

“Leave him be,” Beau said. “He is afraid, can’t you see that? He did not mean to shout.” Julius lay on the ground, crying, holding his swelling eye. Nisila shoved Gavin and limped over to stand next to the boys.

Beau leaned over his cousin and tried to comfort him. “Julius, listen to me. He says enemies have the holdfast. Maybe Corin and uncle had no choice but to flee. In any case, they are out there somewhere, and we will not find them waiting here.”

“They would make for Morris Port,” Nisila added. “That makes the most sense. Since the two of you did not return, Milton would expect that I have rescued you with hopes of taking you to the city. We cannot wonder the woods calling out for them. Our best course is to make for Morris Port and meet up with them there.” At that, Gavin reached over and pulled Nisila’s arm over his shoulder. “And as for you, coward, you touch them again, and I’ll kill you.” She nodded to the boys to follow. Gavin grumbled something under his breath, but Beau could not make out the words.

Julius was reluctant to go, but he got up as Beau helped him to his feet. They shuffled behind Gavin, and as they looked back, they could see the shadow of the holdfast looming beyond the trees. It was the only home he had ever known. Beau said a silent promise to himself that he would one day return. He would miss the summer days under the green forest, and the snow-covered hills in winter. In the Middle Islands, he would never see snow again. The thought made him sad.

As they moved along, a light sprang forth behind them. Milton’s Holdfast was going up in flames. They all stopped for a moment as the fire leaped into the night sky, casting strange shadows around the ancient stone walls. Beau’s breath caught in his chest as he watched his home burning in the distance.

“This is a sign,” Beau said. “My life here is truly over.”

“It is a sign, but you’re reading it wrong,” Gavin retorted. “It means we have lingered too long and must go before we are murdered in the dark by your friends from the Middle Isles.” He turned and walked away, with Nisila leaning on his shoulder. Tears flowed freely from Julius’s eyes, and he shivered as he turned and walked away. He did not cry out, and Beau tried to mimic his courage, though he shook with emotion as well. With heads bowed, they quietly followed after Gavin and Nisila.

They walked for a long time. Beau felt like he would be sick, and his head hurt. He realized he was hungry and at that same moment, Julius’s stomach grumbled as if he could read Beau’s mind. No one spoke as they traveled through the forest. Beau did not know which direction they were heading. They were making their way to Morris Port, but the thought of walking the entire way made him hate the journey even more than before.

“We have to stop,” Nisila gasped. She forced Gavin to halt and he struggled for a moment, trying to keep her moving but finally let her go.

“We cannot stop, get up,” Gavin said. “They could be right behind us.”

“I need to rest,” Nisila said. “We must eat, the boys must eat.” Gavin glared at them with a look of disgust on his face. After a moment, he began to look around, but Beau could not guess why he was scanning the dark forest. Beau felt overwhelmed with fatigue and he wanted to lie down and sleep, but he also wanted to eat. Thinking was exhausting, and he decided the only thing he could do was stand still.

Gavin muttered a curse under his breath and walked away. Julius did not react, and Beau knew it was because his cousin suffered as he did. His eyes were dark and distant, and Beau did not know how to help him. Nisila sat on the ground fumbling with her bandage. Her wound was terrible, and he feared she was dying. He imagined she was in immense pain, but he could not fathom how she went on. After a little urging, Beau was able to get Julius to sit next to Nisila to keep warm. The night was not windy, but it was cold.

“Where did he go?” Beau asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Nisila said. “He can take care of himself. Help me up.” Putting her arm over Beau’s shoulder, he helped her to her feet. He could feel her body shake from the effort. She was much stronger than she looked. She was a true warrior.

“Are you dying?” Julius asked, voicing Beau’s unspoken concerns.

“No, I am not,” Nisila replied flatly, rolling her eyes. “I need rest, and I will make it to Morris Port. How are you two faring so far? Are you hungry?” Julius nodded slowly. Nisila looked at Beau, and he nodded as well. Leaning against a tree, she reached for something on her belt. She produced a few morsels for them, and they devoured the small bites quickly.

“What will you have to eat?” Beau asked her.

“No, I could not,” Nisila replied. “With this wound, I don’t think I could take a single bite. I’ll have some water when Gavin returns.”

“If he ever returns at all,” Julius said as he tenderly touched his puffy eye. “I want my father. I don’t want to be out here anymore.” He began to cry, and Beau went over and sat next to him.

“I know, Julius,” Nisila said. “We will find him, I am sure of it. To do that we will need Gavin’s help. I know he is not the man you would choose to follow, but he is all we have. The sell-swords of the New Brotherhood are well trained and resourceful. If anyone can get us to Morris Port, it will be him.”

“I am no sell-sword,” Gavin appeared out of the shadows. “Come this way, hurry.” They followed him to a ditch, under two fallen trees. They slowly made their descent, being careful not to slide down.

When they came to the bottom, where the ground was somewhat level again, Gavin led them toward the left. The ground was soft and spongy, and Beau could smell fresh earth. They came around a sheer stone wall to a dark alcove.

Gavin guided Nisila into the corner under the rocks. “Sit inside here. I hate to do it, but I think we need a small fire. We will have to risk it. It will be cold tonight. We will only rest a short time, and then we have to keep going.”

“Have you any water, or food?” Nisila asked.

“In my sack in the corner,” Gavin replied as he turned to leave. “Only have enough to wet your lips, save the rest for the journey.” He disappeared again into the night. Julius and Beau sat around Nisila, sharing a skin of water. It was not long until Gavin returned and quickly had a fire going. It was small, and they huddled close to feel the warmth, but it was much welcome. The food was light, but it helped, and after several minutes, Beau was feeling better, even though he was still leery of the darkness surrounding them.

In the firelight, Beau had a chance to see Nisila’s face. She looked pale, and beads of sweat formed on her brow. She had a permanent frown and Beau wished he could ease her agony.

Gavin’s eyes were dark and emotionless. He stared out into the night, with an annoyed look on his face. He did not sit with them, choosing to stand with his arms crossed beneath his heavy cloak. Beau wondered what he was thinking. Gavin turned and looked directly at Beau. Seeing his hard stare, Beau decided he rather not know what was going through his mind.

“You should try and get some sleep, both of you,” Nisila said.

“How can you sleep?” Julius replied. “I will never close my eyes in these woods again.”

“We are safe for now,” Nisila replied. “Shadow-cry is out there as well. He will keep watch over us, I promise. If any danger should approach, he will alert us.”

“The raven follows us?” Gavin asked. “I have not heard or seen a damn thing out there. I will trust my own eyes and ears. Your bird is more likely to give us away than save us.”

“Shadow-cry has traveled with me since I first left the Middle Islands. He has been a great friend to me. He will do what he was trained to do.”

“We don’t need spies,” Gavin said. “We need horses and capable swords. It will come to a fight before the end. I know it. When it does come to that, I pray you two keep your bloody heads. Know this, I am escorting you to Morris Port, but I am not your servant or your bloody sell-sword. Don’t expect any heroics. I will not die up here for any of you people.”

“That is good to know,” Nisila said softly. “We will remember it if ever you are the one who finds himself at the mercy of our enemies.” Beau felt the chill in her voice. The look in her eyes as she glared at Gavin was frightening. She reached out and pulled Beau closer to her side. Julius lowered his head onto her other shoulder. Gavin shook his head in disgust and walked away.

“Are we going to make it?” Beau asked.

“We will,” Nisila said quietly. “With or without him, we will make it to Morris Port. Gavin will go as far as fate wills it. However, mark my words, Prince Beaumont, we will leave these shores.” She sounded confident, and he believed that she genuinely meant her words. Beau did not feel as hopeful as she did; he could not convince himself of that yet. He and Julius were children, Nisila required a healer, and Gavin was a dishonorable sell-sword, despite his arguments. He was supposed to celebrate his journey to the Middle Islands. Instead, there was violence, and enemies were searching for him. He thought it would be an adventure; What he got was a nightmare.

“You have lived your whole life in the Middle Islands?” Julius asked shyly.

“I have,” Nisila replied as she adjusted herself, trying to get comfortable.

“What is it like?” Julius asked. “I would hear from a person who has recently lived there. Beaumont and I have only heard old stories from my father and Corin.”

Nisila sighed deeply, but a smile crept across her lips as her eyes became distant. “The Middle Islands are beautiful and dangerous. Our jungles are home to strange beast you will not find in any other land. Our seas are said to be the bluest and clearest in all of Dayconis. On the main island of Aiti, you can walk for nearly a hundred paces and the water will only come as high as your thighs and the white sand glimmers beneath the waves. You will see fish of all shapes, sizes, and colors swim about your legs. It is not a thing you can ever forget. It is hot all year round as well, unlike Hattan. It is the bright green of the mountains that you see upon your first arrival, sitting on the distant horizon as your ship makes its way to land. You will know your home when you see it. You will feel it in your heart, the both of you.” Julius stirred but did not speak.

“What of the people,” Beau asked softly. “What are they like?”

“Before the war, they were kind and generous,” Nisila said. “I was born in the ocean, like most of the people of my tribe. We are War Hawk, proud and brave, a tribe of hunters. That is our legacy. In times of peace, you will find no warmer welcome than in the home of a Middle Islander. In a time of war, as it is now, there is no fiercer fighter than the Middle Island people. The Deode suffered greatly at our hands during the uprising, yet it still does not hold a candle to the pain they put us through. When the paladins of Gordon came, and they helped us achieve our freedom, we quickly returned to the loving people that we always were at heart.”

Beau sighed, feeling a strange attraction to the tale of his people, yet it was all so distant and different from the life he knew. He was too little to change the fate of so many people, and the thought of being king seemed a distant fantasy.

“My Prince seems sad,” Nisila said. “Do my words bring you no comfort? I admit I am more a warrior than a scholar, and my skill with words are lacking.”

“No, it’s not that,” Beau replied hastily, fearing he might have insulted her. “It’s just...I have the blood of the Middle Islands in me, from my mother and father, yet I am not of the Middle Islands if that makes any sense.”

“The blood knows…” Julius said softly, his eyes focused on the darkness beyond them.

“Wise words, Julius,” Nisila said with a smile.

“It’s something my father always says,” Julius replied. “He always says when we finally return to the Middle Islands, everything would fall into place. He says nothing can stop us from regaining our rightful place in Aiti.”

“Your father was right,” Nisila replied. “It is as I said before–”

Julius cut her off. “My father is right.”

“Excuse me?” Nisila replied.

“My father is right. You said he was right,” Julius said, looking up at her. Beau noticed her smile was more thoughtful than amused.

“Yes, of course,” Nisila said, before turning to Beau. “In regards to your place in Aiti, the people only await your return, my prince. Your presence is enough to fuel the fire in their hearts. You will see, Prince Beaumont, that you have nothing to fear.”

Beau shyly smiled at her. “I hope that everyone I meet there is as kind as you are.”

“They will be, don’t worry,” Nisila said. “Know this. You are king. You are the rightful heir to the leadership of an entire nation. No one can ever take that away from you, Prince Beaumont, not even Rancine with all his scheming. The crown will return to your family.” Beau sighed deeply and put his head down upon her arm. He felt her pull him close, and she was gentle with him. The warmth of the fire and her touch soothed him; it was not something Beau could remember ever feeling before.

He did not think sleep would come to him after the last few hours of terror he experienced. As he watched the fire crackle before his eyes, he could see Gavin move in the shadows of the trees, fading into the night. For now, they were safe, and sleep enveloped him for a time.