The messenger and his two well armed guards were clad in plate armour that had been painted silver with gold trim that matched the small, triangular flag they were travelling under. The horses they were rode were lathered and unsteady on their feet from their long journey, though they had brought three spare horses.

“That explains how they caught up so quickly,” Vengian muttered as he watched the messenger climb down from his horse.

He and Vendel were standing side by side away from the others. While they travelled under the flag, a royal messenger’s authority spoke with the voice of the king himself and was to be treated with due deference. The princes bowed their heads as he approached and held a silver envelope that was embroidered with gold up to Vengian.

When the eldest prince took it from him, the messenger breathed a sigh of relief. “With this, half of my duty is done.”

“You made good time catching up with us,” Vengian remarked as he examined the seal on the envelope carefully.

When he was satisfied it was legitimate and hadn’t been tampered with, he broke it open and removed the letter it contained. He paused to observe the messenger before asking, “When did you leave Maeburn?”

The messenger blinked. “Half a day after you did, My Prince. We rode so hard that even our spare horses could not keep up. We had to change them at Long Shore.”

Vengian snapped his fingers and one of his men ran up with a torch. The soldier looked away as the Black Prince unfolded the letter and read its contents.

“What does it say?” Vendel asked impatiently, drawing an annoyed glare from his brother’s soldier.

Vengian reread the letter and took a deep breath before replying. “There’s no mistaking it. At the time this letter was written, the Entavians attacked our fortifications at Karth Pass. We are to make our way there as quickly as we can.”

“We have brought horses so that you can get there quickly,” the messenger offered. “You and Prince Vendel can take them, and I will take the third and serve as your escort.”

Vengian blinked in surprise. “Forgive me if I sound rude, but you?”

The messenger nodded emphatically. “I bear the cypher, and as you recall, I said that half my duty was done upon delivering the letter. The other half was to bring you safely and with all haste to Karth.”

The Black Prince frowned and held up the letter. “Father made no mention of this.”

The messenger shrugged. “Those were his orders to me. You need not fear, I am a competent fighter, though no match for you, of course.”

“And my men?” Vengian asked.

“They are to follow as quickly as they can, of course,” the messenger replied. “We will need every able body we can get at Karth, but the most important thing is for the two princes to get there quickly so that they can take charge of the defences.”

Vengian glanced at Vendel before turning back to the messenger. He spoke his next words slowly and deliberately. “My father said he wants Prince Vendel to go to Karth to help lead the defence?”

The eldest prince shot his brother an apologetic look, and the messenger bowed his head in embarrassment.

“No,” he admitted, licking his lips. “A depot in the Fringe was burned to the ground. Entavian saboteurs are active behind our lines. The king fears Prince Vendel may be a target and wants him to travel with us so that he can be protected.”

Vengian’s eyes hardened and he placed his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword. “That’s the second time you’ve lied to me. Speak the truth, and if you lie again, your head will go flying as will your guards’.”

Vendel gaped at his brother in shock. To threaten a royal messenger would come with consequences, even for the crown prince. How could he be so sure that this man was lying?

The messenger bowed his head again. “I told no lie the second time, My Princes. His Majesty fears the effect it would have on you if anything were to happen to Prince Vendel. I merely omitted that part to spare his feelings.”

“You should know better than to omit anything as a Royal Messenger,” Vengian growled as he released his grip on his sword.

Vengel turned around to storm away but was stopped by a firm hand around his arm. He whirled around to see his brother staring back at him.

“I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, but this isn’t the time to throw a strop. We need to depart for Karth at once.” his tone was firm, and Vendel knew it was futile to argue with him.

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“Fine,” Vengel grunted, willing himself not to cry as he yanked his arm free from his brother’s grasp.

“Will His Majesty be at Karth?” Vengian asked the messenger.

“I don’t know.”

The night air was cool, and their horses trotted at an easy pace. The princes were riding together with the messenger, whose name was Geryn of Lochmane. They rode in a single file with Geryn in the lead, and the intention was to ride their horses hard when there was enough light to safely do so until they reached the town of Long Shore, where they would rest and procure fresh horses.

Vengian and Geryn were weary and focused on staying awake after their long days of travel, but Vengel was wide awake despite not having had much sleep that night and decided to take advantage of the silence to organize his thoughts. The battle at Karth was timely. It was the perfect opportunity to prove to his father that he was worthy of the sword, and perhaps then, he would be permitted to use it to do whatever it was his father wished.

He didn’t think for a moment that he could usurp his brother’s position as heir, but that had never been his intention. All he ever wanted was to make a name for himself, and he now had a better chance than ever. He looked down at the crimson helmet that rested on his pommel and smiled to himself. Soon, the people on both sides of the battle that was unfolding at Karth would know the name of the Crimson Prince. He just had to hope that their armies could hold for long enough for them to get there.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your reverie,” the voice whispered. “But there’s something you should know.”

Vendel scowled but quickly swallowed his irritation. The sword was vital to fulfilling his dreams, and it was best if they got along. “What is it, Andian?”

“It’s Arnash Damacal,” the sword replied. “Contractions do not work.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Vendel sniffed, taking care not to speak out loud. “How about I call you Andy?”

“As my master, you may address me how ever you wish.”

“What is it that I should know, Andy?” Vendel asked.

“That messenger, he is not to be trusted.”

Vendel glanced at Geryn up ahead. He was a frail, elderly man, and Vendel found it hard to believe he was as competent a warrior as he claimed to be. The prince then blinked and looked down at his sword, wondering if it had put that thought in his head.

“Look at him,” the sword said, sounding amused.

Warily, Vendel did as he was told and saw the old man looking at his sword. When he realized the prince was looking at him, he jumped before offering a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, that’s just a very… unique sword.”

“No it isn’t,” Vendel replied bluntly.

“He’s right,” Vengian added suspiciously. “How long have you served my father?”

The old man smiled. “Since I was conceived, you might say. My father was also a loyal vassal until the day he died.”

“That sword is unremarkable,” Vengian remarked as he nudged his horse closer to the man’s. “What do you know about it?”

The man smiled, and in the blink of an eye, his demeanour changed from that of a loyal servant to something more proud and haughty.

“You are observant, the both of you,” the man remarked. “The truth is I have assumed this Sir Geryn’s identity.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about him,” Vengian observed, drawing his sword. “Where is he?”

“I am a messenger from the Church,” the man continued, ignoring the prince’s question. Though Vengian had drawn his sword, the man remained unarmed and rode his horse easily, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “There is something your father hasn’t told you about Arnash Damacal.”

“If you wish, I can discretely search ahead to see if this one has any ambushes planned,” Andy offered.

“Do it,” Vendel whispered under his breath.

The sword emitted a strange energy that sent a shiver down Vendel’s spine. Moments later a flock of crows rose to the sky from a nearby tree. They circled the tree once before flying off in every direction. Vendel then glanced at his two travel companions. If they noticed the birds, they showed no indication. Each had all their attention focused on the other.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t cut you down,” Vengian growled as he lowered the visor of his helmet.

“I am giving you one last chance before the full wrath of the Church falls upon you,” the man’s voice was hard now, but he still hadn’t reached for his weapon. “Something your House can ill afford at this time, My Prince. The Entavians have already attacked.”

“That letter you gave me has no credibility now!” Vengian spat.

“You know full well that the letter is legitimate,” the man replied serenely. “Your father is getting himself involved with things he does not understand, and it will lead him and his kingdom into ruin.”

“That is because the Church has refused to intervene against Entavian aggression,” Vengian pointed out.

The man shook his head. “If you only knew how hard His Holiness and the ecclesiarchy are working to restore peace between the brothers in faith.”

Vengian’s voice grew icy. “Not hard enough, it seems. Meninfel will fall without help, and Father intends to get it from wherever he can.”

The man turned around and Vendel saw that he had gone pale. His mouth moved but no words would come out. He then exhaled sharply and turned around. “It appears that negotiations have failed.”

With that, he dug his spurs into the sides of his horse and charged off. The brothers watched in silence as he disappeared into the night.

“Should we pursue him?” Vendel asked.

Vengian shook his head and raised his visor. “We could be riding headlong into a trap. I suspect he and his cohorts are the ones the villagers warned after you arrived.”

Just then, a crow cawed overhead. Vendel looked up to see it circle above him once before flying off into the darkness.

“There is an ambush a mile down the road,” the voice warned. “There are eighteen of them in all. It is a good opportunity for us to gain a little more strength before the main battle.”

“That man’s friends are lying in wait up ahead,” Vendel remarked as he licked his lips in anticipation of the battle with the Entavians. “It will be a good opportunity to squeeze some answers out of them.”

Vengian lifted his visor and peered into the darkness for a moment and shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Eighteen peasant warriors against the Black and Crimson Princes,” Vendel goaded as he struggled to squeeze his head into his helmet. “It won’t even be a challenge.”

Vengian turned and gave his brother a concerned look. “It’s reckless, little brother. The smart thing to do is to go back to the others and then march in force.”

Though Vengian’s tone was soft, it felt to Vendel like he was talking to him like a child, and he didn’t care for it one bit. He felt the blood rush to his face and snorted. “If the mighty Black Prince is too scared, I’ll take them on alone.”

“Vendel, wait!” Vengian cried as his younger brother drove his horse forward. He cursed before charging after his brother.