Golden Crown

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“You’re telling me I can’t get into my own palace?” Alex scanned the face of each officer crowded into the tent.

Anders stepped forward. “Essentially, your Majesty, yes.”

“My mother is behind those walls.” His mother and those loyal to her had been betrayed by many of the realms nobles. They now sat trapped within the inner palace with an enemy army at their gates.

They’d made no progress on the walls despite sitting there for days just miles from the palace. Duke Leroy’s forces sat in the valley just outside the gates, allowing the soldiers Alex had drawn together to get no closer without a confrontation.

He scratched his tired face. There’d been little rest since they’d left Bela behind. Beside him stood a man he didn’t recognize instead of the one who should be there. But Edmund hadn’t come.

He’d stayed… with her. No, he refused to dwell on her when his country teetered on the brink of civil war.

As soon as he reached Gaule, Alex had pulled Duchess Moreau’s force from the border. Village militia men and women who were more accustomed to protecting their communities from bandits and breaking up the occasional drunken brawl than marching into battle. And now the Belaen border sat unguarded. But Etta gave her word. They wouldn’t attack.

The Draconian border was unguarded as well, but only because after seeing La Dame’s power first hand, he knew none of them stood a chance if she attacked.

Camped near the palace, they’d found Anders with the royal guard he’d brought to fight the traitors. So, his force consisted of one hundred guardsmen and a band of partially trained civilians. They’d be no match for Leroy’s much larger force. A force that was supposed to be sworn to the crown.

Leroy was the worst kind of counselor. He’d advised Alex’s father on many things prior to the old king’s death. He would rather throw the kingdom into civil war than allow magic folk any freedoms.

Alex tried everything to quiet him. He’d banished him from court. Stripped him of his land’s revenues. Even taken the care of Amalie, his youngest daughter, from his hands.

The steady drum of a horse’s hooves filled the air, stopping just outside the tent. Anders left, returning only moments later with an unkempt man. His eyes darted around the tent wildly before he forced himself into a bow.

“Your Majesty,” Anders started. “Conners has been inside the walls for the past couple of weeks. He has much to tell you.”

“Begin.” Alex narrowed his eyes.

The man straightened and pulled at the ends of his dark hair. “I… I lived in the outer palace. Just one of the guardsman who took shifts at the gate. I didn’t hear any traitorous talk until moments before the attack. I swear.”

“Go on.” Alex nodded, leaning forward.

“Half the guard turned on the queen mother and stormed the dungeons to release the nobles being kept there.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, sire. Lord Leroy took control from there and the other nobles fell in line. They gained the support of the people who lived in the outer palace by decreeing that all those with magic be brought forth and put on trial.”

Alex turned away and paced the length of the tent, his generals scrambling to get out of his way. How had he been so wrong about his people? They hadn’t been ready for the new world he’d thrust upon them.

This was his fault.

“There was cheering, sire.” The man’s voice broke. “The people… they cheered as a man was found guilty of being one of the magic folk and put to death right there in the center of town.”

Alex stopped moving and pinned the young man with a stare, resisting the urge to ask him the question burning in his brain with this many witnesses. If he’d been so wrong about his people, none of them were trustworthy.

“How did you get away?” he asked instead. “How did you get out?”

“Persinette Basile.” His lips curved up. “She created quite the distraction when she left. It allowed a lot of us who didn’t agree with the nobles and their followers to escape to the inner palace where the queen mother is protecting all those who ask for it.”

“How did you get out from the inner palace?”

The man scratched his chin. “I’m not really sure. I volunteered to be the one to go and Amalie Leroy showed me through some tunnel that came out into a cove at the ocean. I walked for a while before I found a horse grazing.”

Alex should have known. Hope knocked into him for the first time since his a*******n that seemed so long ago. There were only two tunnels into the palace. One came out along the outer wall facing the forest. He’d used it with Etta to get back into the palace. The other, he’d only heard about. He pushed past Anders and left the tent in search of his brother.

Tyson leaned against a boulder on the edge of camp with a cap pulled down over his eyes and his arms folded across his chest. Alex didn’t want to wake him.

“I can sense you watching me,” he said with a muffled voice. He pushed the cap off his face, revealing eyes that he’d barely been able to look into since leaving Bela. They weren’t his mother’s. They weren’t Durand eyes. They were hers. Peering into the face of his brother was like seeing Etta. How had he never seen it before? It hurt too much, so he looked away.

Tyson watched him with the cold stare he’d perfected since leaving Bela. He may have chosen Alex, but the ill feelings between Alex and Etta tore him apart. If they weren’t resolved, part of Alex worried his brother would never forgive him.

“I need to talk to you.” Alex moved to lean against the boulder. “A man arrived today after escaping the palace and evading Leroy’s forces.”

“You sure he’s not a spy?” Tyson’s distrust stung Alex. There’d been a time when his brother had been open and kind. But that was before he’d had to leave his home to run for his life.

“He says Amalie showed him out through a tunnel.”

That brought the light back to his eyes. “Amalie? Is she okay?”

Alex nodded slowly. “Yes. But I need to know about these tunnels.”

“I tried to tell you about them a long time ago. Back when dad–”

“I know,” Alex cut him off. “And I’m sorry I never listened to you, but right now I need you to tell me if they can get me into the palace.”

Tyson’s shoulders dropped, and he sagged back, his head swinging in a slow arc. “You can get into the tunnels, but the passageway into the palace can only be opened from the inside.”

Everything inside of Alex deflated.

“I’m sorry.”

Alex patted the back of his head. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

Alex spun around and slapped his palm against the stone. “Dammit, it’s not. Nothing is okay. Our mother is in there. She’s surrounded by people who want their king’s head and it’s all my blasted fault.”

“Are you whining, brother?” Tyson raised an eyebrow. “That’s supposed to be my job.”

Alex couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He couldn’t tell anything at the moment. All he knew was that the people he loved were trapped, and he had to get them out. He gave in to his brother who was obviously waiting for him to speak. “Then what is my job, oh knowledgeable one?”

“To be king.” Tyson stood. When had he gotten so tall? He’d grown enough to meet Alex’s eyes without tilting his head back. “You have to do what no one else can do. Figure out how to take back your throne and save our mother and Amalie, all while not taking back any of the progress Gaule has made toward accepting Belaens.”

“Easy, right?”

“Noble actions are never easy.”

“Did you learn that one from Edmund?” Alex fell into step beside Tyson.

Tyson ducked his head to hide his sheepish grin. “We spent a lot of time together after we escaped the palace.”

“I wish you hadn’t had to do that.”

“Me too.” He raised his hand in front of Alex’s face and snapped it open.

Alex sputtered as water rose from the ground in a flash and slapped him in the face.

“That was for being a d**k to my people for so long.”

Alex wiped his face on his sleeve. “You didn’t even know they were your people.”

“You were still a dick.”

“Yeah.” Alex sighed and pushed damp hair off his forehead. “I guess I was.”

“Still kinda are.” Tyson shot him a final grin but didn’t stick around for Alex’s retort.

Alex shook his head and reentered the tent where his officers continued to confer. They glanced up hopefully. “Sorry, we have to find another way.”

The room deflated and no one spoke until a guard ran in, jostling Alex. His eyes widened.

“My… My king.” He bowed clumsily.

“What is it?” Anders snapped.

The guard turned to him, shrinking back from the general’s large presence. “The scouts spotted riders, sir. A lot of them.”

Alex cursed as Anders took charge, issuing orders to prepare the soldiers for battle.

“Sire,” he said to Alex. “You should stay with the archers.”

His first instinct was to argue, but then common sense kicked in. He was a much better archer than swordsman. His hand shot out, grabbing onto the tunic of a guard nearby. “Prince Tyson was just here. Bring him to me.” The man nodded and hurried away.

There was no way he was letting Tyson near the fight.

A horn sounded from the far side of the valley and riders crested the hill, stretching across the horizon.

“Reinforcements for the duke.” Alex rubbed his jaw. It had to be. Holding his bow aloft, he hurried to the other side of camp where the archers gathered.

“Archers, to me!” he yelled. “Ready your bows.”

Nearby, Anders forced the soldiers into battle lines. Most of them had never been in so much as a fistfight. The royal guardsmen and women stood straight with steely eyes and calm demeanors. The Moreau fighters circled in chaos. Alex pulled his eyes away as a guard shoved Tyson forward.

“Seriously, Alex? I’m a better fighter than three-quarters of those soldiers.”

Alex shoved a bow into his hands. “Today, you’re an archer.”

“I’m an awful archer.”

Alex cuffed him on the back of the head as his eyes scanned the oncoming force. “You’re almost as good as me, Ty, so no more.”

Tyson cursed and rubbed his head but otherwise remained silent as he readied his bow.

Alex had never been in an all-out battle. He didn’t know exactly what to expect. But he was pretty sure they didn’t begin with a single rider galloping forward, a white flag billowing in the breeze.

Alex pressed his bow into Tyson’s free hand. He stepped up next to Anders.

The rider stopped midway between the forces.

“You think it’s a trap?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know, your Majesty.”

The rider slid gracefully from the dappled mare and approached the envoy for Alex’s army. Long silver hair spilled from her helmet as she removed it. A woman. Alex sucked in a breath as her gaze pierced them even at that distance.

“Hello.” The voice was quiet, no more than a whisper.

Alex and Anders both twisted around looking for the source.

“I’m not your enemy.” A musical quality lilted the words.

“It’s her,” Alex said, his eyes widening.

Revulsion flashed across Anders’ face, reminding Alex how his general felt about Belaens. Her magic allowed her to speak across the distance.

“I need to speak with her.” Alex couldn’t explain it. The draw of her magic. Other than Tyson, he hadn’t been around any magic folk since leaving Bela and it had left a hole in his life.

“Come,” her sweet voice said.

“Stand down,” Alex called to his force.

“You can’t go alone,” Anders argued.

“Then send your best soldiers, but you are not coming.” He didn’t need Anders angering the woman with his disdain for her kind.

Tyson ran up beside him and he opened his mouth to tell him to stay put, but then shut it without uttering a word. Tyson had as much right to meet the magic woman as he did. The eagerness on his face spoke volumes. Tyson hadn’t shown much interest in anything since leaving Bela.

Anders handpicked three guards and horses were brought forward. They cantered across the field they’d intended to be a battlefield.

When they reached the armored woman, her eyes caught on Tyson and widened as a smile spread across her face. “You have magic,” she said softly.

“Who are you?” Alex demanded, looking down on her from atop his horse.

Tyson slid down before Alex had a chance to stop him. “You sensed me?”

She shook her head with a laugh. “We’ve all heard the rumors. I was only looking for confirmation.”

Alex scowled at his brother as he jumped down from his horse. “I will not ask you again. Who are you and do you intend to attack?” He scanned her force at the other end of the valley.

She finally turned her piercing gray eyes on him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your Majesty. Like I said before, I am not your enemy. In fact, we can be of service to you. A messenger reached me saying that my father was trapped inside the royal palace, surrounded by traitors. I thought this must be a lie, but he was supposed to have returned with his wife. The risk was too great not to come.”

“Your father,” he said dumbly.

“Yes, Duke Caron. Recently wed to the princess Camille.”

It suddenly clicked and Alex glanced back at his guards. “Stand down. These are the Caron forces. Thank God.”

“I’m Ara. It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Alexandre Durand. My father always spoke most highly of you.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to see you.” Did her father know of her magic? He had to. There was no time for Alex to express his surprise as she spoke again.

“So, it’s true then? Gaule is at war?” she asked.

“Call your units to camp next to mine,” Alex said, gesturing to where pointed tents rose up across the valley.

She nodded and spoke softly. Alex couldn’t hear her words, but her lips were moving. Her soldiers started across the valley and she gave him a shrug and vaulted onto her horse. Had they heard her words as he had from afar?

He’d seen a lot of things in his short stint as king. A lot of magic. But he’d never get used to it.

He climbed into his saddle and dug his heels into his horse’s flanks, anxious to tell his men and women that the greatest threat still lay within the palace walls. There’d be no battle this day.

But a battle was coming. No one doubted that.