“No,” I said, “absolutely not.”

“Oh come on,” Alex said, “when are you going to get a chance like this again Neesh.”

“Never hopefully,” I said.

“I’m not sure why you’re so dead set against this,” Alex said, “I mean yeah it’s not the most exciting thing we could do but there’s not much else going on is there.”

“Can’t we just go to the Hare?” I said.

“Nah we’re still technically on duty, could cause trouble,” Dene said. Damn him for being technically right.

“I mean aren’t you curious to see a tyrant in the flesh, he’s not going to be in the City much longer apparently,” Alex said.

“It’s exactly because he is a tyrant I don’t want to see him,” I countered, “I mean why would you want to fuel his ego even more if he’s a tyrant.”

“We’ll go jeer at him,” Alex laughed.

“I could get behind that,” Fig said quietly, and I knew I’d lost the argument if Fig was on board. Fine, we would go see my ‘fiance’ strut around. I wasn’t happy about it though.

Prince Lancel was still in town, although not for much longer apparently, and whilst I was absolutely certain he wouldn’t recognise me, he’d never seen me, just a very unrealistic portrait, I still had no wish to meet the man who if not for the vagaries of chance I’d have probably been married to by now. If anything, I was even more certain of that now I’d spent a few months in Malin than I had been before. Back in Trieste, Paras was a powerful empire, a brooding but distant threat which even I knew little about other than that it was an expansionist power with designs on ruling the whole continent based on some semi-mythical claimed successorhood to the Empire of Inoc, a city that still stood within Paras’ borders, which had once ruled an ancient empire that apparently spanned the whole continent.

Here in Malin though, Paras wasn’t a scary bedtime story, it was both at the city’s gates and a real existential threat and had been for the whole of the city’s history. The Parasian Empire had besieged Malin six times but never breached its walls; now there was peace but no one here pretended that it was anything but temporary, like the rise and fall of the rivers that ran through the city it would happen again. So there were no rose tinted glasses here and the Malinese compared their freedoms to those in the empire with scorn and revulsion. This was especially true of the non-human races, and I could see why even shy Fig wouldn’t miss an opportunity to jeer at the prince. In Paras non-human races were serfs, bound to their human masters and their whims, much of Malin’s non-human population were people who had fled the empire.

For all that though we were at peace with Paras and Lancel was an honoured guest of the city, or something along those lines; and before he left he was giving a speech to mark the consecration to a newly completed temple of Melan, the chief god of the pantheon it was thought that were worshipped back in the times of the Empire of Inoc, and who still commanded a substantial following of austere devotees, particularly in Paras. Melan was not, as far as I was concerned, a loving god, he was one of order and power.

Alex was particularly taken with the idea of checking him out, as not only was Lancel the prince most likely to be named the next emperor but he was also an important general in the Parasian army and Alex was always keen to size up a potential opponent. It was just my luck that Alex knew just about everything going on in the city of any importance otherwise I’m sure we’d have not even known about it, and Lancel would have happily left Malin and I would not be left with the unpleasant experience of having to see him. I guess, though I gave in because at some level I was curious to see this man. Could you blame me?

Temple’s Rest was always busy, although the Malinese were in no way particularly devout, there were so many of them, from so many different backgrounds that inevitably just about every religion, cult or sect that existed on the continent had a substantial flock within the city. Someone, either a genius or a madman, I couldn’t decide which, had not long after the city was founded decided that all temples and churches should be constructed on the small river island that was now known as Temple’s Rest.

Consequently, Temple’s Rest was anything but restful; it was a cacophony of the sound of bells, drums, prayers; the smells of incense, blood and fire; and the hum of people coming to worship at all hours of the day. The temples and churches were built cheek by jowl, butting up against each other, statues glaring at each other like they were in some kind of celestial staring contest.

Somehow, Alex, as always, was completely at home and confidently guided us through the throngs of faithful to the Temple of Melan. The temple itself was as austere as its god, a plain building of whitewashed plaster and stone, with a spire climbing into the sky displaying the silver wheel of the god at its zenith. There were knights of the ninth stationed on guard duty, keeping the small crowd that had gathered away from the steps of the temple. It was then I remembered this was Fig’s home ward, he had to live amongst all this, all the time, I felt sorry for him.

“Hey, I’m just going to say hi to some of my squadmates,” he said, as if on cue. We waved him off and saw him going to chat to a tall knight with dark hair who seemed to be in charge of the guard detail.

“So where is he?” I asked as we joined the fringe of the crowd.

“Not arrived yet I’d imagine, you know royalty, they like to be late,” Dene said, as I inwardly cringed.

Finally, after another ten minutes a carriage, how it had navigated the narrow streets of the ward I had no idea, arrived and pulled up in front of the temple. The door was opened by a footman and then first a guard, a Parasian Knight in full plate armour, stepped out, followed by the man I presumed was Prince Lancel. Annoyingly, from what I could tell from this distance his portrait hadn’t been done to flatter. He was tall, easily over two metres and a walking mass of muscle, evident despite the flamboyant court clothes of the Parasian nobility, he had medium length blonde hair, a strong jaw but with thin lips and cold, calculating grey eyes. He looked both princely and cruel, and a shiver went down my spine as I thought again what might have been.

There was a long period of glad handing with various priests and acolytes of the temple but finally he approached a lectern that had been placed on the steps and addressed the crowd.

“Faithful, the people of Malin,” he began, his voice was deep and his speech clipped, “it is my great privilege to dedicate this grand temple to the great god Melan. Melan was the father of the gods of Inoc, the father of all the people’s of the Ald and Est basins from Masha in the west to Alp in the east, and just as today that Paras is the protector of the legacy of Inoc this temple will be the protector of all the people of the basins. The god Melan teaches us about the importance of respect - respect for the natural order of things. Just as parents govern their children, a husband governs his wife or a king and his kingdom Melan governs us and we prosper under his guidance.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

At this point I had heard enough, what a pompous ass. I was glad I had escaped my engagement to him as I’m pretty sure I’d have ran anyway the first time he opened his mouth.

“Gods he’s a stuck up arsehole,” I whispered to Alex, my vocabulary had coarsened thanks to exposure to the boys over the last few months.

“Well he’s a Parasian,” Alex said, “they’re all arseholes. Well I’m sure the average person on the street isn’t but the nobles and knights are notorious for it.”

“Yeah, they’re like Alex times a hundred,” Dene chipped in, playfully elbowing Alex in the ribs.

“There’s a difference between class and snobbery you know,” said Alex, accentuating his posh accent.

“Shame you don’t know what it is then isn’t it,” Dene laughed. By this point whatever speech Lancel had been given appeared to be over and the prince was being ushered inside the temple.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said, “I’m hungry anyway, reckon there’s anywhere to get a double round here or is it just Temples.”

“Oh Neesh, you simple country boy,” Alex laughed, “this is Malin, there’s always somewhere to get a double.”

“Where’s Fig?” Dene said, as we realised he’d not returned, he wasn’t over by his squadmates either.

“Must have got sent off on an errand or something,” Alex said, “nice of him to say goodbye.”

“I suppose so,” Dene said, “must have been urgent if he just rushed off like that.”

“We’ll have to ask him later,” I said, my stomach complaining noisily now.

“Alright, alright,” Alex said, “we all hear your gut growling Neesh.”

With that we followed Alex through the narrow streets of the ward rounding two corners before perched in between two churches, it’s own advertising flags lost amongst the streamers and banners of the surrounding holy sites, was a small doubles stand. Thankfully it wasn’t busy, it was an odd time of day for a meal after all, so we managed to bag three of the five stools set up in front of the counter, ordered our doubles and some cool tea, and sat down to eat.

We had just about finished with our food when the sound of an explosion overwhelmed the noise of the temple district completely.

“Shit what was that?” Dene said.

“Nothing good,” Alex replied.

“What shall we do?” I asked.

“Well we’re Militia, only one thing to do,” Alex said, getting up.

I realised what he meant and put a couple of clippings on the counter to cover our food. Seconds later we were running towards where we thought the explosion had come from, fighting a tide of people hurrying in the other direction. Suddenly I realised we were heading back to the Temple of Melan.

I exchanged a look with Alex, his face was girm, we both had realised if anything sinister was up, which let’s face it with a massive explosion seemed likely, then Prince Lancel was bound to be in the middle of it. The three of us quickened our pace. Suddenly my dangersense flared, or rather it felt like my stomach dropped out of my body, as a sense of dread flushed over me.

“Off the road!” I shouted.

I threw myself onto the steps of a nearby chapel, and thankfully Alex and Dene heeded my warning and did the same as the next second Prince Lancel’s carriage thundered through the streets, anyone not fast enough to get out the way was ran down, I saw an old man’s head stoved in by the foot of one of the powerful horses pulling the carriage, he was surely dead. A child’s leg was crushed under the wheels of the carriage. The carriage was gone before I could shoulder my crossbow, I cursed as I had fully intended to bring the driver down; Prince on board or not, it didn’t give them the right to murder people to make their escape. There wasn’t anything I could do though about it, they were long gone, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

“Bastard,” I shouted, venting my frustration, before I dashed over to the girl I’d seen run over. Her leg was crushed, bone jutted out of the string, I could tell already she would lose it, even if I could save her life. I wasn’t a medic, but all of us apprentices were being trained at the fifteenth in the basics of field medicine so I knew I had to stop the child’s bleeding. I was operating on instinct, vaguely I was aware of the shouting around me and the girl’s pained screams and whimpers but I had zoned them all out, intent only on removing my sword belt and fastening it around the girl’s thigh. I pulled it as tight as I could, using all my strength, to form the tourniquet I hoped would save the girl’s life. I knew she was crying out in pain as I did so but I carried on until I was sure her bleeding had slowed to a trickle.

It was only then I came back to the world and became aware of what was going on around me. I looked up. Alex and Dene were behind me, standing looking stunned. The road was still full of fleeing people, weaving around the injured. Some of the priests and acolytes had come rushing out of their temples and were busy helping the injured, or in some cases administering the rites of dead to those beyond help.

“Alex,” I shouted, snapping my friend out of his shock, “can you carry her?”

He didn’t answer, but simply scooped the sobbing child into his arms, holding her with a surprising gentleness.

“We need to get her to the ninth’s headquarters,” I said, “they’ll have a doctor there.”

“You guys go,” Dene said, “I’ll see if there’s anyone I can help.”

“Ok,” I said, and then Alex and I were off. I ended up running ahead of Alex, clearing a path through the chaos and confusion, as he shouted directions to me, and in only a few minutes we were both panting but standing outside the headquarters of the ninth.

The gate was already open, as the ninth’s knights were already bringing in injured and traumatised citizens, they were already well on the way to establishing some sort of field hospital in their training yard. We made eye contact with one of the knights at the gate and he saw the girl in Alex’s arms and the state of her leg. Wordlessly, he beckoned us to follow him and he led us quickly into the ninth’s infirmary. It was already full of the injured and knights were scurrying about administering health potions and other simple treatments to those who could be helped by them.

“Over here,” shouted a knight, and we rushed over to the free bed he was standing by.

“Quick,” he said, as Alex hurried to put her down gently. As soon as he did the knight poured a health potion down her throat.

“That will stabilise her until the doctor gets to her leg,” he said.

“That’s a relief,” I replied.

“You know her?” the knight asked.

“No, we just were rushing to find out what had happened when the Prince’s coach ran her down,” I said, “I tried to stop the bleeding and then Alex carried her here.”

“That bastard,” the knight said, “as if we don’t have enough casualties from the explosion without making more. Anyway you boys probably saved this kid’s life.”

“What happened,” Alex asked.

“Someone tried to assassinate the prince,” the knight said, “that whole front of the temple is gone, blown apart, whoever did it just mistimed it, the prince was in the temple’s garden when the explosion happened.”

“That’s pretty bad,” Alex said, “first that Triestian princess, now this. There’s going to be hell to pay.”

“War I’d bet,” the knight said, “That Prince is a nasty piece of work at the best of times, gods know what he’ll do now his blood is up.”