Together, the three of them took positions in the middle of the room. Rhoden accepted a dull sword, and Cael led the three of them through stances, the most basic of sword training. Although his two companions were clearly more skilled than this, they were not above practicing with someone much less adept than they. Rhoden was simultaneously grateful and embarrassed. He had very little experience with a sword, never having seen a need. A prince who spent the majority of his days in peace did not need to fight. But Cael had always found chances to bring Rhoden to the training hall, to teach him what he had never learned. He recognized, now that he was older, there was perhaps some merit to it.

As Rhoden followed the movements, he found his mind wandering. The darkness on Cael’s face had not gone unnoticed. At some point, he would ask the question Rhoden was dreading: can we talk?

He forced himself to think of other things, but the intrusive voice of Erastus Hestran followed his every movement: why would I allow that? It would be evil in your hands. Evil. Evil. Evil.

The words became a cadence to which he moved his sword, echoing around and through him. The more he heard them, the more deeply they sunk into his soul. Gloom settled over him once more, and he growled silently at the air. He could not escape the truth of what he was. He would never be anything than something to be feared.

After what seemed like an age, and when Rhoden felt his arms were ready to collapse, Cael stopped them and began a few basic fighting maneuvers. Rhoden pulled himself from the deepness of his gloom and forced himself to concentrate as both Cael and Derrick came at him, swords swinging. For a time, he was grateful not to think of men behind tables, white robes, and a wall of mirrors.

They continued as the sky brightened above them. The door to the training hall opened many times as soldiers came and went. One by one, the other fighting pairs in the ring began to disappear.

As they paused for a drink of water, Rhoden became aware of a growing crowd. Members of the King’s Guard, both in uniform and without had gathered around the edges of the room, watching curiously. Rhoden felt their eyes on him like an invisible presence. Darkness settled over him again as a fog.

He knew they watched purely because of him. He was so rarely at the palace that it seemed the people forgot about his existence. Whenever he came, it was as though he were some foreign freak, something to be gawked at, whispered about. Wherever he went, crowds gathered—on the sides of roads, before the palace gates, within the training hall of the palace. They thought, perhaps, that they were surreptitious in their examination, dropping their eyes or breaking apart once Rhoden turned their way, but he saw them. He always saw them.

Another unwelcome thought followed. What if the news of his shameful rejection had spread, and these guards knew what it was he had been planning to do? The very topic of Shadows was shunned and hated. Suddenly, the stares he felt were more piercing than ever.

Palms sweating, Rhoden returned to the center of the sandy area. No other pairs of fighting guards remained. Through windows high in the roof, bright daylight streamed. They had been practicing for hours, now, and Rhoden was beginning to feel it. He longed to be done, but Cael did not seem to be finished, and so they would remain.

Cael and Derrick were speaking with one another in low voices and broke apart as Rhoden approached.

“I can see you’re tired, Rhoden, but Derrick has something he’d like to teach us before we finish,” Cael said. “I think it’ll be entertaining enough for our audience, if you’re agreeable?”

Swallowing his anxiety, Rhoden nodded.

“It’s a type of gambit,” Derrick explained, his eyes flicking between their faces. “I’ll admit it is unusual and the opportunity to use it is slim, but I’ve found it useful. It requires at least three parties, which is why I haven’t taught you before, your Highness,” he said, nodding to Cael.

“A three-way fight? Sounds intriguing,” Cael said.

Derrick’s mouth drew into a thin smile. “It’s not quite what it seems. I’ll explain it both to you privately.

“We’ll begin with you,” he said, positioning Cael at the center of the arena. “Prince Rhoden, if you still stand over there…”

He motioned for Rhoden to move to the edge of the ring of sand, then spoke with Cael in a quiet voice. Rhoden watched them, his heartbeat quickening. If he wanted to observe Derrick’s character, he had a feeling this would be the moment to do so.

Once Derrick was finished speaking to Cael, he came to where Rhoden was standing, wary and unsure.

“Prince Rhoden,” he said, lowering his voice so that only they could hear. “Your brother is your opponent. His objective is to try and distract you from the fight. That is also your objective, but there is an added element of which he is not aware.”

Rhoden met the man’s eyes, trying to read his intention.

“I have told him that I am his ally, but this is a lie. I am your ally, and my purpose is to help you disarm him.”

Rhoden wet his lips. “You lied to Cael. How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

“You do not,” said Derrick with a grim smile. “That is the true purpose of this exercise. It is about distraction, yes, but also about trust. You must trust me, Rhoden. Find a way to distract Cael so that he forgets I’m here.”

“Distract him how?” Rhoden asked. His hand was sweaty on the hilt of his sword.

“It works best to do something…unexpected. Play to your strengths, if you can.” Derrick’s dark eyes were unreadable. “Are you ready?”

Rhoden swallowed. Play to my strengths? he thought. Books and scholarship would not help him in this situation, of that he was certain. To do something unexpected, then, was his best option.

His jaw clenched, he nodded.

Then, raising his sword, he charged at Cael. His brother’s eyes widened as Rhoden attacked, but he raised his own sword to block. Rhoden lunged again, letting his body follow the movements he had spent hours practicing. Cael blocked him easily, then gave a few attacks of his own. Rhoden felt his bravery slip away.

The hilt of his sword rammed against Cael’s and they found themselves face to face.

“That was impressive,” Cael said, grinning. “In all honesty, I didn’t know you had it in you to attack first.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Rhoden whispered.

They pushed off one another, their swords scraping. The quiet hall rang with the sound.

“Speaking of which,” Cael said, the smile gone from his face, “when were you going to tell me?”

They began to walk slowly in a circle around one another. Derrick had disappeared into the crowd at the edges of the room.

“Tell you what?” Rhoden asked.

“About yesterday,” said Cael.

Rhoden froze. Now? He wanted to talk about this now? What had happened at Lord Hestran’s manor couldn’t be common knowledge, not yet. Cael wouldn’t betray that confidence, not in front of an audience. He wouldn’t.

His thoughts were interrupted as Cael came charging at him. He raised his sword just in time to block, and the two of them danced apart. Rhoden took a step forward.

“I would rather not talk about it,” he said through tight lips. “Not here.”

“So you would have preferred I hear about it first from father, not you?”

“This isn’t the time, Cael,” Rhoden muttered. “Let’s discuss this later.”

“I think this is the perfect time,” Cael said, a grim look on his face.

Blood rushed to Rhoden’s face. Was Cael angry at him?

Careful, he thought. He’s trying to distract you, and it’s working. Turn this around. Distract him instead.

He rushed at Cael again, trying a maneuver they had practiced just an hour before. With a clang, he found his sword knocked out of his hands. It landed in the sand with a thump.

Cael eyed it. “You know,” he said. “The point of a sword fight is to keep one’s sword in hand.”

“Maybe I don’t need it,” said Rhoden, backing away. His thoughts swirled. Play to your strengths.

“I won’t fight you unarmed,” Cael said, sticking his own sword, point down, in the sand. “This fight should be fair.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“This fight was never fair,” said Rhoden, once again circling around the sandy pit. “But you’re right, Cael. I should have told you.”

“I can’t believe you would be so stupid,” Cael said, a hint of a smile returning to his face. It was strained, though. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it,” Rhoden said. “But it’s my turn to tell you something.”

“Oh?” A true smile split Cael’s face. “You think talking will help you win the fight?”

“Something like that,” Rhoden muttered. He scanned the darkened crowd for red hair, but could see none. If Derrick was indeed his ally, he was making a poor one.

In all possibility, he was on his own. Hints of a story swirled through his mind. It was all he could think of as a distraction. He took a deep breath and began.

“There was once a spy in the household of the king. It could have been the Sun King, or maybe one of his descendants. But this spy brought the kingdom to ruin entirely on his own.”

“Is this really the time for children’s tales?” Cael asked, his eyes twinkling. He knew Rhoden’s fascination with the old stories. It was a teasing question, not a barbed one.

Rhoden ignored him.

“This spy had a special talent, one of the Old Magics,” he continued. “He could change his appearance at will. One moment, he could look like a sturdy blacksmith; the next, an old codger; the next, a young servant woman. He could go anywhere, be anyone, and he prided himself on a simple fact: he was never caught.”

As Rhoden and Cael circled each other, their swords glinting dully in the sand between them, Rhoden could sense the attention of everyone in the room on him. There was hardly any sound but that of shuffling footsteps and his own voice.

“One day, the spy made a mistake. He let pride enter into his heart.

“‘I will make an idiot of the king,’ he said. ‘I will show everyone what a fool he is.’

“The spy entered the palace as a servant, then took the king’s appearance while the king was sleeping. That night, he strode through the city, wearing nothing but what Ennis above gave him. He disparaged the king’s name, visiting ale- and whorehouses alike. Rumors flew like wildfire.”

“Did anyone find him out?” Cael asked.

“The king, the true king, that is, was of a perfectly sound mind,” Rhoden continued, nodding. “He alerted his guards, once he heard the rumors, and they arrested the spy as he lay drunk on the ground. For days, the king questioned him, the man who held his face, but could find no answers. Eventually, in a stroke of good luck, the spy managed to escape using the appearance of one of his guards.

“After that, there was nothing in his mind but revenge. Slowly, things began to go wrong for the king. His friends began leaving him. Servants were found dead. Even the leader of a neighboring kingdom began to threaten him with war.”

Rhoden felt the story grow in him like a climbing vine. His voice became more confident.

“Eventually, the king sent out a proclamation, begging for relief. This was the opportunity the spy had been waiting for. He took the appearance of an old man from the country—someone no one in the palace would know—dressed himself in gaudy robes, and presented himself at the palace as a seer. He became the king’s most trusted advisor, but his his true purpose he kept hidden behind clever words.

“When the king believed that the threat was past, an army from the neighboring kingdom suddenly attacked, destroying everything in its path. The spy had been visiting them as well, telling them where the weakest defenses were.

“All hope was lost, and the king and his trusted advisor, the spy, fled the palace. When they were alone, the spy dropped his illusion and stabbed his knife into the king.

“‘Why?’ the king asked, recognizing him as the man who had stolen his appearance. ‘I gave you everything.’

“‘You took my victory from me,’ said the spy. ‘I am only—’”

Behind Cael, Rhoden saw movement. Suddenly, Derrick rushed from the shadows, hands empty. He caught Cael around the middle, causing him to cry out in shock, and tackled him to the ground. Sand sprayed into the air. Several of the watching soldiers called out and moved forward instinctively.

Rhoden rushed to the two men as they extricated themselves from one another. Cael’s shock had passed, for he was laughing.

“Distraction indeed!” he said. “I may have a bruise from that, Derrick.”

“I apologize,” said Derrick unabashedly. “You can’t deny the results.”

“I thought you were on my side, and I wondered what was taking so long,” Cael chuckled. “But I suppose that was the point, wasn’t it?”

Derrick offered his hand, and Cael took it.

“I lied,” Derrick said.

Rhoden looked at the man, but could read nothing in his expression. That unnerved him more than anything. If Derrick would lie as part of a training exercise, what else would he lie about?

“And now I understand why you chose the story you did,” Cael said, looking at Rhoden. “It was intriguing.”

“It was the first thing that entered my head,” said Rhoden, shrugging. “I was trying to take you off balance. I thought a story would accomplish that.”

“You’re not wrong,” Cael laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I tried to do that as well, but, well, I wasn’t as successful, was I?”

Rhoden shook his head. “It shocked me. I didn’t want..them to know about it.” He looked around at the crowd, which was stirring and murmuring in low voices.

Cael threw an arm over Rhoden’s shoulders and together they left the sandy area. In a quiet corner of the room, they stopped, and Cael stepped away.

“I apologize, Rhoden. That was foolish of me, wasn’t it?” Cael scrutinized Rhoden’s face. “I’m like the king in your story.”

“He wasn’t the fool,” Rhoden said. “He was misled. You’re not a fool, Cael.”

“I was angry you didn’t tell me yesterday,” Cael said. “About Hestran, the Chronicles, all of it. Father told me last night before dinner, and I could hardly believe what he was saying. But I shouldn’t have taken it out that way. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Rhoden sighed. “I should have told you.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them. Pairs of soldiers were once again sparring in the middle of the training hall. The sound of ringing metal rose through the air.

“You really were going to read the Chronicles, weren’t you?” Cael asked. “You would leave the Church, just for a book?”

“Only if I had been caught,” Rhoden muttered.

Cael laughed, but the sound was choked. “Oh, your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. What about them is so important to you? I mean, I understand you’re studying the Shadows, but why these particular books?”

Rhoden glanced around the room, to make certain no one else was near. Derrick had wandered away, watching the fighting pairs critically and giving advice.

Still, Rhoden lowered his voice. “You know that during the Great Schism nearly all knowledge of the Shadows was reduced to myths and children’s stories.”

“Yes,” Cael responded. “They didn’t want any knowledge of their evil doings to be spread.”

“Dorican, the author of the Chronicles, was a priest who disagreed with the church,” Rhoden said, speaking faster. “He preserved historical events in their truest form. There is history there, true history, that doesn’t exist anywhere else. Information about the Shadows, what really happened, not just what the church says happened.”

“I see.” Cael’s face was troubled. His light eyes pierced Rhoden. “And you want to know this, because…”

“Because I need to understand why this happened,” Rhoden said, looking down at his hands. In the dim light, his black hands seemed even blacker.

Cael sighed. “Not this again.”

“Yes, this again,” Rhoden argued. “Why do you think I’ll devote the rest of my life to studying the Shadows?”

“You said it was to compile a true history,” Cael said.

“It is,” Rhoden said. “But, Cael, I have to know what happened to me.”

“Father has already given his answer. None of the physicians could ever explain it.”

“Which is why I have to look elsewhere for answers,” Rhoden said. “I held out hope that the Chronicles would give me those answers, but…it’s too late for that.”

Cael’s face grew red. “Hestran should have known better than to treat you the way he did,” he growled. In the dark corner, his resemblance to their uncle Horst was uncanny. “There will be consequences for his actions.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rhoden said quietly. “I destroyed my chance at reading them. I’ll never know what they say. And, besides that, I’ve dug my reputation a deeper hole than it was before. All of those priests and Hestran’s goons know I’m trying to find out the truth about the Shadows. I have a feeling I’ll never know it.”

“You are an idiot,” Cael said “The more you talk, the more I’m convinced you’re the fool from the story.”

“But am I the spy or the king?” Rhoden muttered.

“You never finished it,” Cael said, realization dawning on his face. “How did the story end?”

“The spy kills the king, joins the army of the invading kingdom, and is eventually killed for impersonating their king.”

“So the moral is, don’t pretend to be someone you’re not?” Cael asked.

“That both the spy and the king were fools,” Rhoden said. “One who did not understand the limits of his talent, and the other who was too trusting.”

Cael clapped a hand on Rhoden’s shoulder.

“People don’t hate you as much as you think,” he said. “And you’re not a complete fool. Father has some ideas on how to smooth this over. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this.”

“Father’s ideas are what worry me,” Rhoden said.

Cael chuckled.

“It might take some time, seeing as the Mesian party arrives tomorrow,” he said. “It’s possible nothing will happen until after the wedding.”

That gave Rhoden pause. He had forgotten. Though the wedding was still a couple of weeks away, Cael’s betrothed, Lady Miriandri, and her family were coming far in advance to help with preparations.

“I’m sure it will happen when it’s meant to,” Rhoden said. Then, he asked, “Are you nervous?”

“About marriage?” Cael laughed. “Not at all! We’ve prepared for this nearly our entire lives. And Mira is a wonderful person. She’ll make an excellent companion. You’ll like her, I’m certain of that.”

“I look forward to meeting her,” Rhoden said quietly.

Cael gave Rhoden a searching look.

“I’ll see what I can do about Hestran and the Chronicles,” he said. “But, Rhoden, those books were banned and destroyed for a reason. What if you do eventually read them and what you find is not what you wanted to know?”

“It’s better than trying to piece together truth from thousands of stories,” Rhoden said. “And perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s better that I don’t read them. I just…I want to understand. I need to know the truth.”

Cael’s face softened. “I know,” he said. “Even if it means being banished from the church.”

Rhoden shrugged, and they began walking toward the exit. “I was never very religious, anyway.”

Cael laughed as the two of them stepped into the bright sunlight of a new day.