Brandur
“What? Escaped?” I groaned in fury. As long as my brother was still alive, the claim to the throne sat on thin ice. I would never escape being second.
“Have them hunted down,” I commanded. “I want their bodies returned dead. And if you fail, I'll have your heads offered to King Edward as a peace offering for the murder of his daughter.”
Damon and Alaric—the generals of Yormsborg, bowed their heads as they departed. I could tell how scared they were when I made mention of the mad King.
“Sire, we've tracked their scents,” one of Yormsborg's warriors said to me. “They are enroute to Castleburg.”
“Castleburg?” I exclaimed. I had known my brother to be lovesick, but not mad. He would never venture to Castleburg. Or was it that he was desperate? But that did not matter, I saw an opp
