A young deer sniffed curiously at the sweet-smelling buds of a small bush. A sudden whistling sound caused him to perk his ears and quickly raise his head. His leg muscles tensed in preparation of immediate flight. He saw a blur of motion then felt a sudden sharp pain as an arrow pierced his throat. Confusion and anguish filled the unfortunate beast’s mind until another arrow found purchase in his strong neck. The animal died instantly and collapsed awkwardly onto the forest floor.

A proud white horse strode boldly into the clearing surrounding the fallen creature, urged forward by the stern nudge given him by his rider. The youthful man smiled as his keen blue eyes surveyed the fallen game, and admired the clean death it had suffered. He wore fine black trousers and a black blouse under a thick white cape. He stored his bow and began to dismount. At the same moment, six more horses pranced into the clearing, each bearing a rider dressed in identical fashion to the first man. All seven men wore their hair short, closely trimmed.

“Excellent shot, my liege,” called out one of the riders, addressing the first man.

“Thank you, Airk,” replied the King.

“Excellent compared to other attempts perhaps, but still needing a great deal of improvement,” added an older man. “A charging adversary would not be so tolerant as to allow you two shots.”

“Ah, Sir Trevor, even a man of your greatly advanced years should not always be so practical,” returned Sir Airk.

“My years are not nearly so advanced as you make them sound, Sir Airk. Remember that when you next address me or I shall have to give you a stern reminder of what this old fool can do!”

“Good sirs, please!” called out King Hoys Proudfist with a laugh. “This peaceful forest can not abide your animosity!” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The two knights glared at each other briefly as the King turned around to clean the slain deer. Hoys had named Sir Trevor as his First Sword when he had been crowned King of the Paladins. It was more than Sir Trevor’s wisdom and experience that had earned him the title, he had filled the fatherly void in Hoys’ life after his true father, Manss Proudfist, died of consumption. Sir Trevor had served Hoys’ father since before Hoys himself was born, even before Manss had founded Daybreak and set his followers apart from the Gaurvians, more than 30 years ago. Sir Trevor would often tell the young King tales of the old days, as he called them, when Manss Proudfist was still the Prince of Gaurvia and heir to the throne of Vidliank. The Prince had grown tired of the hypocrisy and inane prattle of the courtiers in Vidliank, and of the ignorance his people so often displayed. Against his father’s explicit commands, he rode north one day with his most valorous and wise followers. He established the fortified city of Daybreak, decreeing that only learned knights would be allowed in his service, and only educated peasants allowed on his lands. He founded the Academy to teach his new followers about history, philosophy, literacy, music and sculpture. The promise of enlightenment drew many Gaurvians and immigrants from every land, and his city grew and prospered. When Manss’ father died leaving no heir other than Manss’ sister Sera, Manss refused to return to Vidliank to claim his succession. Instead, he raised a banner of a golden sunburst upon a black field and proclaimed himself King of Paladia, as he had renamed the northern peninsula. None of the nobles dreamed of depriving Manss of his peninsula, and instead began a civil war to claim the throne of the kingdom he had left behind. Seeing Gaurvia’s vulnerability, the Qume launched an attack, burning many villages and sacking Nunliss. When they laid siege to Vidliank itself, Manss, Sir Trevor and the small but highly disciplined host of Paladins rode south to lift the siege. They defeated the Qume and exiled them once more to their barren southern peninsula. To end the civil war, Manss Proudfist named his cousin, Rigar Stoneworth, as the new King of Vidliank and peace settled over the now permanently divided realm.

The King looked over the worn lines of Sir Trevor’s craggy face, and smiled fondly. He looked over the other knights of his honour guard, both young men and eager to prove their worth, perhaps too eager. Having been raised in the old tradition, Sir Trevor lacked much of the refinement of the younger knights, a point they never let him forget.

Sir Winston, the youngest knight in Hoys’ service, turned suddenly and warned of an approaching rider. A moment later, a white-cloaked messenger charged into the clearing. The rider pulled up abruptly, startling the hunting party. The rider’s mare snorted tiredly, glistening with sweat. Despite his shortness of breath, the man hastily dismounted. The messenger ran up to the King and immediately dropped to one knee, proffering a tightly bound scroll. Hoys sheathed his paring knife and took the scroll from the messenger’s hands. He carefully unrolled the scroll and read it. His expression suddenly changed from one of mirth to deadly seriousness.

“How did this come to us?” asked the King, addressing the messenger.

“A rook, sire.”

Hoys dismissed the man and quickly mounted, the carcass promptly forgotten. He rode with all haste back to his castle and his counsel chambers.

“What did the message say?” shouted Airk as they rode.

“A horde of Iceborn barbarians has invaded Gaurvia. Rest has already been taken and King Stoneworth fears for the safety of Vidliank. We must raise our defences, marshal our troops and march at once. If Vidliank falls, Daybreak will surely follow.”

“It would seem you will get your wish, Sir Trevor, of seeing his highness’ aim in live battle,” quipped Sir Winston.

“It was never my wish to see another battle. I have fought a war once before and I have no longing for the next.”

“Nevertheless, you will fight another war, my old friend. Let us hope my aim will see us through it,” added the King sorrowfully, envisioning the troubles ahead of them.

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