Tall white clouds towered high in the blue sky overhead while the sun beat down relentlessly on the lands and the farmers who were busy in their fields. Sweat soaked Tim’s shirt, caused only partly by the heat, as he led the way down the dirt road that led them to the west side of town. The prince and princess were riding on freshly groomed horses behind him in silence. He could sense the tension in the prince, which worried Tim. He didn’t think they were here to apprehend Horatio. That hardly seemed like things princes did personally without at least some lackeys to do the dirty work.

“Say, why does a prince need to skulk around in his own kingdom to see one of his subjects?” Tim winced as Eric bluntly asked the question that had weighed on his mind ever since the prince had asked about Horatio. At least Eric had the sense to wait until they were out of earshot of anyone else before asking. “Besides, shouldn’t you be off fighting in the war?”

When the prince fell silent, Tim cringed and risked a look over his shoulder. To his surprise, instead of beheading Eric for his impertinence, Arthur eventually answered with a question of his own. “Tell me, have you heard of the Prophecy of the Dragon?”

The prince sounded more irritated with the prophecy than with Eric’s lack of tact, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from turning around to see if the prince had been Gavin Finch, Potter’s Hollow’s most notorious prankster, all along.

“Of course, I have, ‘The Dragon revealed will herald the return of Darkness’,” Eric rolled his eyes as he recited one of the Order of the Three Divinities’ most well-known prophecies. It was supposedly Barylon, the God of Fate, and one of the Three Divinity’s, final warning to mankind before ascending from the mortal realm to the Divine Plane.

“Well, my father worries that we of House Dragos are the dragons of prophecy and that revealing ourselves means participating in the war against Hulva,” Arthur scoffed. “Besides, the Three themselves named us the Dragon Kings before their Ascension, so it’s not as though we’ve been hiding in the first place.”

“The old prophecies are all over the place,” Tim remarked. “Isn’t the only hope against the Darkness supposed to be the line of the Dragon Kings?”

“Perhaps the dragon in the Prophecy of the Dragon refers to the children of Barylon,” Eric added.

Tim didn’t put much stock in the prophecies. The Order of the Three Divinities did seem to feature dragons heavily and it all quickly became confusing to him. Barylon, the God of Fate was said to have created dragons to shepherd humanity after they ascended, but none had ever been seen in recorded history. At the same time, House Dragos had been given their name by the Three in recognition of the first Dragos King’s contributions at the final battle thousands of years ago and were often called the Dragon Kings because of their favour with the Divine Three.

“That’s what I told him!” Arthur cried in exasperation. “But he says that it is better to err on the side of caution. So here I am, having to creep around like a thief in the night within my own lands instead of leading my armies in glorious battle!”

Emily Soren laughed. “There, wasn’t it good to get off your chest?”

“I suppose it was,” Arthur conceded, breaking into a wry smile.

“I still don’t see what the prophecy has to do with you having to keep a low profile,” Eric shrugged.

“It’s because,” the prince then realized something and stopped himself. “No, that’s not important. Are we still a long way from Lord Carver’s house?”

“I think Tim here’s leading you to the wrong person,” Eric remarked. “Old Horatio’s the furthest thing I’ve seen from a lord in my life.”

“No, that sounds precisely like who we want to see,” Arthur said with reverence in his voice. He fell silent and lowered his head as a farmer drove a cart laden with wheat past them towards town.

“Good morning, Mister Stone,” the boys sang in unison, but old Conrad Stone was too busy gawking openly at the pair on horseback to notice the boys.

“Is everyone so rude out here?” Arthur asked sourly once he had passed.

“No, that’s just how Old Conrad is,” Eric laughed.

Arthur frowned and looked back at the farmer over his shoulder. “Old? That man doesn’t look a day over thirty.”

Eric gave the prince a blank stare. “So? That’s positively ancient to us.”

“Oh look, there’s Old Horatio’s house,” Tim announced, wanting to change the subject before Eric offended the prince any more.

“I’m only twenty, you know,” Arthur sniffed. His face fell when he looked at the rundown old shed on the edge of the recently harvested field Tim was pointing at. “Lord Carver is living here?”

“I told you, Tim here has the wrong person,” Eric shrugged as he jerked a thumb at his friend. “We’ll still get paid though, won’t we?”

“Look, that’s him!” Emily cried as she pointed at a man in his forties. He limped as he carried a pair of buckets balanced on a pole across the raised edge of the field towards the shed and was stripped to the waist. He had a shaggy head of brown hair and an unkempt beard that was streaked with white.

Arthur climbed down from his horse and helped Emily down from hers before handing the reins over to Eric. The pair had already run down the short rise towards Horatio before Eric even realized what he was holding on to.

“Look after them, would you?” Tim winked and patted Eric on the shoulder before chasing after the couple.

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“Hey, what am I supposed to do with these?” Eric demanded from the road. Tim smirked and continued after the prince and princess.

“Lord Carver!” Arthur called out.

Tim watched as Old Horatio stopped in his tracks to watch the pair’s approach. The boy wondered for the hundredth time if the Old Horatio the boys of Potter’s Hollow knew and loved was the same Lord Carver the prince was looking for. It seemed hard to believe, although Old Horatio did seem remarkably well versed in the art of war. Idly, he wondered why the prince was seeking this Lord Carver out. Perhaps the war wasn’t going well. Little word of the war reached their town. All they knew was that the Carthun armies had crossed somewhere called the Narrows and entered the neighbouring kingdom of Hulva, but that had happened months ago.

When it was clear that Horatio didn’t recognize them, Arthur and Emily threw their hoods back as they continued running towards the older man. Upon seeing their faces, Horatio lowered his sloshing buckets of water and dropped to a knee.

“My Prince, Lady Soren,” Horatio said. His words were heavily accented and there was wonder in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Lord Carver, please, stand,” Arthur begged. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

Horatio looked around theatrically. The closest other person was Greg Stone, Conrad’s eldest son, guiding a horse pulled plough through one of the fields almost two hundred yards away.

“I think right here is quite private enough,” the older man pointed out. He cast a sheepish glance at the shed. “I’m afraid my home isn’t suited to entertain company as distinguished as yourselves.”

He paused before adding, “You can send the boys away first if you like.”

Tim’s heart sank as the prince gave him and Eric, who was fast approaching with the horses in tow, a cold look. At length, he shook his head. “No, there’s no need to risk the big one selling our horses.”

“I would never,” Eric snorted indignantly, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Tim.

“Do you want to find out why a prince is after Horatio or not?” Tim hissed.

“I don’t see why I’m being accused of being a thief,” Eric pouted as he rubbed his ribs.

“Maybe it’s because you stole half my tip last night!” Tim retorted.

“Boys, if you breathe a word of what I am about to say to anyone else, I ensure that you are locked in a sunless dungeon until you are very old men,” Arthur warned.

“Our lips are sealed, My Prince,” Tim said solemnly. Eric nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

Arthur let his gaze rest on the boys for a moment before turning to Horatio. “Lord Carver, our armies have been routed at the gates of Estos.”

Horatio’s face fell. “That is dire news indeed.”

“But you don’t look surprised,” Emily observed.

Horatio took a deep breath and shook his head. “Lord Callum is an aggressive general, and the Hulvans are not an enemy to be underestimated. You remember my disgrace, don’t you?”

Arthur nodded. “That was a travesty, and I intend to make it right.”

“What do you mean?” Horatio asked as a quizzical look crossed his face.

Arthur grinned triumphantly as he fished a sealed scroll from his pocket and handed it over to the older man. Horatio frowned as he broke the red seal in the shape of a dragon’s head and the colour drained from his face as he read the contents of the letter.

“Is His Majesty sure?” Horatio asked hoarsely.

“He is,” Arthur declared triumphantly. “And he has the support of the High Council.”

Horatio broke into a rare smile as he glanced at Emily. “That must have pained Lord Ferdinand.”

Emily smiled broadly. “Father was beside himself. I hear he smashed his favourite set of brandy snifters after adding his signature to that letter in your hand.”

“So, will you come back?” Arthur asked.

Horatio studied the letter again. “Just how bad were our losses in Estos?”

“Bad,” Arthur replied darkly. “We’ll have to raise another army.”

Horatio glanced at the boys, and Tim could feel his excitement rise at the implication. “Which means towns like this won’t be untouched.”

“I’m afraid we won’t have that luxury this time,” Arthur confirmed.

“How wasteful war is,” Horatio lamented.

“I’m afraid that we have a bigger problem.”

Tim jumped as a gravelly voice spoke from just behind him. He spun around and saw a lanky, gaunt faced man standing between him and Eric, and from the look on his friend’s face, he too had only just noticed the new arrival.

“You,” Arthur grunted. Tim looked over and saw that the prince’s green bladed sword was half out of its scabbard. “Your habit of sneaking up on people is going to get you killed one day, Huntsman.”

The lanky man flashed a lopsided grin. “I’ll take you up on that wager, Your Princeliness.”

“I don’t see how I can possibly collect,” Arthur sniffed.

“Let’s hear it then, Nathan,” Horatio sighed wearily as he held up the parchment he had just been handed. “What calamitous news are you bearing, and can it possibly be worse than this?”

Huntsman’s demeanour turned serious in a flash. “I’m afraid the Sons followed the prince here and are converging on the town as we speak.”

Arthur turned pale. “Do they know why we’re here?”

Huntsman shook his head and pointed at the princess. “They know she’s here, though. If they find out Horatio’s here and what you have planned for him… well that will just be the cherry on top, won’t it?”

“We should leave then,” Arthur suggested.

“Even if you leave, they’re going to want to know why you were here,” Huntsman warned.

“Then we take Lord Carver with us,” Arthur replied.

“I’m all for leaving this town to the Sons, bigger picture and all that,” Huntsman said. “But is that a sacrifice you’re willing to make?”

“They are likely to make life difficult for the townspeople if they don’t find what they’re looking for,” Emily agreed.

“Who are these Sons?” Eric blurted.

Arthur gave Eric a cold look, and Horatio cleared his throat. “Well, you can’t ask him to pretend not to have heard what you just said.”

“The Sons of Archava,” Horatio said as he turned to address the boys. “As their name suggests, they’re fanatical followers of the God of War, and seek to wage war against enemies of the Three Divinities, wherever they may be.”

“So why are they coming here?” Eric asked. “We’re all worshippers of the Three.”

“Because they’re in league with the Hulvans,” Huntsman replied when Horatio hesitated.

Eric blinked. “Are they more devout followers of the Three than we are?”

“They believe that this war between brothers in faith is wrong,” Huntsman replied with a roll of his eyes.

“And where were they when the Hulvans attacked us?” Eric asked exasperatedly.

“Some of the Sons will say we deserved to be attacked because my father permitted heresy in our lands,” Arthur said darkly. “At any rate, the fanatics are on their way here, and we need to prepare for them.”

“Wait,” Tim said. There was still something that nagged at him, and he wanted to ask while everyone was feeling chatty. “You said they are here for the two of you. Horatio, I understand. He is the king’s choice as the new general, but why the princess?”

Tim cringed and regretted opening his mouth when he saw Arthur’s face turn crimson. Horatio came to his rescue, placing himself between the boy and the prince. “You’ll find that out in good time, I suspect. For now, we need to decide how to defend ourselves against them.”

“How many of them are there?” Arthur asked sharply.

“Around thirty,” Huntsman replied.

Arthur nodded. “Then that’s simple enough.”

Tim and Eric exchanged looks.

“Perhaps we should let the boys go home,” Emily suggested.

Huntsman shook his head and looked around. “They followed you here, and if any of them were local, they might know who the boys are. Chances are they might go after them.”

A chill ran down Tim’s spine and he suddenly regretted ever going to work the day before. “What do we do? What if they go after my family?”

“You worry about yourself first, boy,” Huntsman snapped. “Do as we say, and everyone will be just fine.”