The gates opened before them and Artowen flipped his reins to usher his horse into Tartos. Unlike Liofeld this was not a place of beauty. It was a cornerstone of Welkia’s frontier, an ancient fortress that held the line of Bardoo and the Uxsons alike. Originally it was just that, a castle meant to defend as it lay in a strong position. With the ever-increasing threat of the Uxsons and the backstabbing Kingdom of Bardoo, the need grew, and Tartos became a city proper.

  Hard, rectangular architecture bore scars of wars past, though it did not seem to have been assaulted recently. Despite no evidence of battle soldiers rushed around and the common folk appeared to be in disarray as well.

  A grizzled warrior met them at the entrance to the castle, a bald man covered in scars. He gave a deferential bow. “My apologies Lady Idwyn, we cannot give your group proper accommodations currently.”

  “A room and some food is plenty Ricken, thank you,” Aunt Idwyn curtsied in response.

  Artowen stepped forward. “What is going on here? Have you been attacked?”

  The man eyed Artowen, noting the golden hair that was a match to Aunt Idwyn’s. A slight smile broke his gruff features. “Hardly Promised One, no one would dare attack Tartos in the winter. I am Ricken, General of this humble city. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “I am Artowen, but it appears you already knew that.”

  “Few have not heard the tales of the Promised One, though to recognize you is another matter. I am simply well acquainted with your aunt, and the familial line is striking.”

  Artowen sighed. He seems like a fine fellow, but this is getting us off track. The people here are troubled and I need to know why. “I’ll ask again, what the going on here?”

  Ricken eyed Aunt Idwyn and waited until she shrugged. “Bardoo. As the commander of this fortress, all the villages of Welkia in the area fall under my protection. Those bastards are raiding them in the middle of winter, aggressively killing, pillaging, and taking slaves.”

  Artowen was silent. He could not muster a word.

  “But Welkia is making a treaty with them, we’re in discussion to have them join us in battle,” Royce said exasperated. “We’re on our way to confirm the terms and conditions.”

  “Matters little to those fools. They take what they can get anywhere. And those honorless fools call themselves Drajin.”

  Aunt Idwyn seemed disinterested.

  “What does His Majesty Rowain think?” Emerii asked.

  “Orders are to not escalate the conflict, but we cannot leave this unanswered. Our hands are tied, forced to simply fortify the villages, but we cannot retaliate.”

  Flames burned in Artowen’s eyes. “Allow us to right this wrong.”

  They all turned to him in surprise.

  “No,” His aunt said before anyone else could get a word in.

  Artowen shook his head. “While we are acting as agents of Welkia, our true interest is the unity of all the Kingdoms. We have the privilege to act for ourselves.”

  “A thin excuse Artowen. We are of Welkia; they will use that as an excuse. The King of Bardoo seeks conflict, though a full-scale war seems to not be part of the plan, otherwise, they would launch a full army. Perhaps draw us into worsened tensions as a means to ignore the coming battle that will arrive with next year’s channao. Mere speculation, but in any case his reasons are vast and varied. There is no reason to involve ourselves, a feint should not draw our attention as we make for the master planners themselves.”

  “They do not know us, and even if they did we could deny their suspicions. I know we are in a rush Aunt Idwyn, but I cannot abandon the people when I could do something about it.”

  “You three against raiding parties of trained soldiers?”

  Emerii patted his back. “Arty’s right. We could certainly do something. Whether it would work is another matter.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Aunt Idwyn’s eyes narrowed, then softened. “I suppose this warrants more discussion, but first let us take our meal and what little hospitality Tartos can afford us.”

  Ricken’s eyes lightened at the thought of assistance.

  Candlelight flickered across the dark walls. The roughly drawn map lay atop the table. The Band of the Promised One and Ricken stood around examining their options.

  “You do too much Promised One,” Ricken rubbed his scarred head. “If we were to lose you here I could never forgive myself. Please continue on to Bardoo.”

  “It is impossible Ricken, once he gets an idea in his head he will stick to it.,” Aunt Idwyn said in a scolding manner.

  “Thicker than a mule,” Emerii snickered.

  Royce cleared his throat. “Still, I think our plan is a decent one. If we can’t make a difference I swear to drag him back to you Lady Idwyn.”

  She ignored the comment, “Artowen, it may be too soon, but here is where you will prove yourself true. This is also the time for your two guards to prove their worth.”

  “Do not worry Aunt Idwyn, it is but a momentary distraction. If all turns out okay this could even give us leverage in the negotiations. I am simply doing as you and Mother taught me. Help the weak.”

  “I do not know what world your imaginative mind foresees, but please keep that away from my carefully laid plans.” She made for the door. “I have other matters to weave, you all return to the room and sleep.”

  His aunt left, leaving Artowen with a sour expression.

  “Don’t look like that Arty, we’ve only been separated momentarily. Besides we’ve already traveled much with her and will have many more adventures in the future. Leave her to herself,” Emerii said.

  “I can’t help it. I love my dear aunt so but its been years since we have seen each other. I know a Truthsayer’s duties, but it is still disheartening. I don’t mean to annoy or make light of our plans. I’m only doing what I believe is right.”

  “I think it’s even more than that Arty. Lady Idwyn has been laying the groundwork her entire life for this. Peace will come, and with it normal family time.” Royce said as he patted him on the shoulder. “I do not think she is mad my friend. Lady Idwyn is only constructing a new path for us to reach unification.”

  They bid Ricken farewell and went to their plain single room. The General was not lying when he discussed the lack of amenities. There was just enough room for them to lay out their bedrolls in what must have been a storage room. If not for the disarray that the fortress was in Artowen would have judged them harshly for subjecting a Truthsayer to such limited accommodations. He did not particularly care about himself, but his aunt was one deserving of every respect.

  “Do you think I should acquiesce?” Artowen found himself asking no one in particular.

  “We’ve never shied away from a battle before,” Royce replied.

  Artowen grimaced.

  “I know, we are not to speak of such things, though it was what tightened our bonds so.”

  Emerii chuckled. “We will simply see how it goes. If it was truly against what Idwyn wished she would forbid it completely. I would not be surprised if she factored outings like this into her plans. That is very much like your aunt.“

  “Still I would not thrust you into unknown danger for vague reasons.” Artowen sighed. “To truly unite the Kingdoms, we must bring peace to any conflict we find. If bad blood continues to flow between Welkia and Bardoo then unification is but a fairy tale. I must move forward. I must meet expectations.”

  “We’re here with you Arty, our fearless cub leader, for better or worse.”

  “Best get some rest you two, we have more traveling to do in the morning, more preparation.” Royce turned over. “I know you have a penchant for self-doubt Arty, but don’t let it weigh on your mind too much. Also, don’t tease him too much Emerii, otherwise, you’ll eat through his self-confidence.”

  Emerii rolled her eyes.

  Artowen laughed himself to sleep.

  The cold winter morning cut through Artowen’s clothes. The snow was far less in this area, only a splattering of white on dead grasses and barren trees. The land was more hilly than Welkia, and low mountains were close as well. Still, this was Dradris and Artowen recognized it as such.

  Dismounted he admired his aunt’s fierce figure settled atop her horse backlit by the white winter light. Imposing and resolute, he knew she would make the arrangements while he was completing his reckless goal to stop the raids.

  Aunt Idwyn would guide the horses to Tentington, the closest major Bardoo city. Their paths would be split but momentarily, but Artowen had no time to waste. Quick work would be made of the foolish raiders and their force would be sent reeling.

  She turned back slightly showing a smile. “Remember this form Artowen. This is how a leader carries themselves.”

  He nodded. “There is no point in worrying about you. All of Dradris is a play area for a Truthsayer. But I would be remiss to not wish you good luck.”

  “I will pray for you as well dear nephew. Make sure to learn from this experience in every aspect, so one day you can complete your dreams, Promised One. Unfortunately, you must be prepared to leave immediately once you return to my company.”

  She did not address Emerii or Royce, instead ushering her horse to stride ahead on the winding road where somewhere ahead the city waited. The other horses were tugged along, almost unnaturally calm as they followed the Truthsayer.

  He watched her go, then pivoted. “We have been allotted one week. We shall not waste the opportunity, my friends.”

  The two did not say a word but shared their smiles. With that expression he knew that no matter what lay before them they would be at his back pushing him onward, holding him up when he fell. He walked off the road into the woods, in the direction they had come from, hoping his back was an imitation of his aunt’s.