***

  Zander looked through the peephole of the smaller door built into the massive gate. On the other side of the gate was the Sukkan army Clyden warned him would arrive today. Zander shook his head, sliding the peephole shut, turning around to look at an archer who was with him. The archer was young, and his name was Kayman. He can’t be a day past 15.

  “It is time, Kayman. Send the signal. The Sukkan army is gathering in position to attack,” Zander said.

  “Are you sure, my Lord?” Kayman asked.

  Any other time Zander would have been annoyed since he was under stress, but today he smiled at the boy archer.

  “Take a look for yourself,” Zander said, tapping the peephole door, leaning against the gate. Kayman walked up to the small door, sliding the peephole open, looking through it. A shocked expression flashed across Kayman’s face, his mouth dropping as his eyes darted back and forth. He saw a large number of men and horses moving about 200 meters away. He could hear some of them shouting commands, and the men began to organize into formations. Kayman listened to the rumble of horses’ hooves as they speed away to assigned locations. The Sukkan cavalry moved to the front of their infantry lines in preparation for a charged assault. It sounded like the thunder of an incoming storm. Zander closed the peephole, cutting off Kayman’s view.

  “The signal. I-I-I will send it now, Lord Zander,” Kayman said, his mouth robbed of moisture.

  Walking over to a fire pit nearby, the young archer removed a blunted arrow from his quiver, the tip was wrapped in a cloth soaked in oil. Kayman held it over the flames. The fabric caught fire, spewing copious amounts of white smoke. Kayman notched his bow aiming the arrow to shoot straight up. He released his fingers on the bowstring, and the wind of the string passing his cheek sent the arrow high in the sky above the western thorn wall of Dragon Crest, trailing white smoke behind it as the arrow soared higher. The white smoke stood out in the early sun of the day.

  Moments after its flight, the warning bells of Dragon Crest roared to life. Soldiers and cavalry moved to their predesignated rallying positions. The sounds of an army preparing for battle were loud, the sound carrying back up into the city of Dragon Crests. For days, the citizens knew something was going to happen and now with the warning bells tolling. You could hear the panic cries of some citizens as the inhabitants on the streets as they rushed to their homes to seek shelter.

  “Thank you,” Zander said, leaving and walking towards a tent nearby before turning around. “Oh, do not open the peephole again.” The young archer shook his head yes in acknowledgment.

  Most people would have thought it odd for a tent to be pitched next to a gate, but not Zander, since it was his idea to pitch it there in the first place. If one were to scrutinize the tent, they would have noticed that the tent’s canvas was nailed to the massive gate.

  The craftsmen who even constructed it for him all thought it was an odd thing for them to be requested to do. Yes, many would have found this strange, impractical, and certainly out of place. But within the tent, the sole occupant, Clyden, was asleep. The magus called it a genius idea during a moment of lucidness. Of course, Zander agreed with him.

  Just as Zander was about to walk through the tent flaps, he paused for a moment, and then a grin flashed across his face. Anyone that knew him would have recognized this look. It was Zander’s ‘I am about to do something I shouldn’t do look.’ There was a bucket full of water sitting next to the tent’s entrance. Zander stuck his finger in the water, and it was cold. Grinning, he picked the bucket up and entered through the tent flaps.

  Zander stealthily approached, completely freezing in place when Clyden spoke, “You know I can hear the warning bells, right? And if I couldn’t hear that, the sound of five thousand cavalrymen moving into position for a battle is only a tad quieter.” Clyden sat up, wearily eyeing the bucket of water in Zander’s clutches.

  “Your hearing must be superb, really animal-like. I mean, I heard the bells,” Zander said as he tilted his head to the side. He took his free hand and cupped it to his ear, trying to catch any sounds with it. “I do not hear any horses, though.”

  As if to sabotage Zander, a horse neighed while someone barked, “Watch that horse over there!”

  “What do you know? There was a horse after all,” Zander said. Clyden stood up and looked down, seeing Witch Devil lying in the grass. Clyden maneuvered his right foot under the portion of the weapon where the blade met the haft and kicked it up in the air, and in one smooth motion, he caught it in his right hand. “I brought some water for you to wash up,” Zander quickly said after what he witnessed. “Or drink. You know if you are thirsty.”

  Clyden was about to expose Zander and tell him his farce was over with when they both heard cheers being raised. The men were shouting with repeated exuberance the name of their Crown Princess, “Arinah! Arinah! Arinah!”

  “Poison me now!” Zander said, dropping the bucket and sending its contents spilling into the grass. He exited the tent swiftly. Zander’s head was on a swivel like a starved owl peering in the dark for food as he searched for the cause of the commotion. Clyden followed closely behind, and they both were able to spot Ari riding on a white horse.

  Ari wore a polished breastplate crafted for her size, a symbolic gesture since she was only eleven, and there was no way the girl would even be allowed to fight. The breastplate had her family crest of the Crystal Dragon, clutching a rose painted on it. Ten King’s guardsmen flanked the Princess, five on each side of her. Her guards eyed the crowd, ready to strike any of them down. Ari’s dynamic red hair was braided in a single long braid. She wore dyed black woolen pants with white roses stitching on the side, and a Dragon patch was sewn on the right thigh. Her boots were plain black. The cheer continued as she rode her horse to the front of the gate, where Zander and Clyden stood.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Banner men rushed, trying to secure a prominent position to display their lord’s flags before the Princess. Ari raised her hand for her guards to hold as she covered the rest of the distance alone.

  “Princess?” Zander said, taking her horse’s reigns near its bit in hand.

  “Hello, Lord Uncle,” Ari said. Even though he was not her uncle, it was a term of endearment she used for him. “Before you start. I know what you are about to say. ‘It is too dangerous for you to be here. This is no place for a future queen. Did Cina really let you come? You do not have enough guards and something about poison’,” Ari said while attempting her best imitation of her lord uncle. Zander raised his free hand, index finger as if about to make a point before falling silent.

  “What are you doing here? The battle is about to start. Why would Cina let you come? Ten guards! Not nearly enough for you,” Zander said, leaning around Ari’s horse, eyeing the guards with malicious intent as if he could devour them with a sinister gaze. He finished his rant by trailing off, saying something about poison and peace.

  “Haha, the girl. She knows you well,” Clyden said with a chuckle.

  “Are you well, Lord Clyden? I was told you were terribly fatigued,” Ari said.

  “I am fine now, Princess. Just ready for all this to be over with,” Clyden said. “What of you?”

  “I have come to do my part,” Ari said with determination.

  “Your part? Your part right now is for you to turn around and take them ten idiots that allowed you to come down in the first place back to the castle,” Zander said.

  “Uncle, I must do my part,” Ari said, staring down Zander.

  Zander was about to argue and insert his authority to the fullest. But when he saw the pleading, fierce determination in Ari’s eyes, he faltered. Caving in like a drunk finding a cask of ale in his bedroom and not having to worry about working for the next three days.

  “Bah, poison me now. Alright, do ‘your part,’” Zander said sulkily.

  “Clyden, I am told you have a way for many to hear one’s voice,” Ari said.

  “I do, Princess,” Clyden said. Clyden looked out over the throng of soldiers and horses. The men assembled faster than expected when they learned their future queen was present. Some were still dressing where they stood or, if on a horse, rode. Banners representing the noble houses of Loudas were mixed throughout the crowd, along with squad flags and the royal Crystal Dragon banners. A lot of the men still chanted the princess’s name. Clyden judged the spell would work and spoke words none around him would understand.

  The banners and flags in the gathering army grew rigid, no longer pliable in the wind, and surrounded by an orange glow. Some banner men who had never seen this before moved their flags as if trying to make them work properly again. Witch Devil glowed reddish orange at the blade.

  “She is not hot. Stay on the horse when you speak. Touch her, and she will carry your voice to the flags,” Clyden instructed her, turning the dull side of his glaive towards her. Clyden expected her to be hesitant about touching a blade appearing hot, but Arinah grabbed it immediately. Brave girl.

  “H-H-Hello,” Ari said tentatively. The crowd stopped moving, their collective attention focusing on the closest banner near them. Some startled flag bearers who had never seen or heard of this magic before dropped their flags. “I am P-P-Princess Arinah Lizbeth Malve Loudas,” she announced nervously to the gathered men. Clyden thought for a moment if he should end the spell. “Brave banner men do not be afraid. Lord Clyden has used his magic so that my voice could be heard amongst you through your flags,” those who dropped their banners picked them up hesitantly after Ari explained. Men barked orders for silence at hearing the Princess’s voice.

  “Yesterday, I learned of the impending battle you all will fight today. War is something I still do not understand. If I am to be honest, I hope I will never understand war. My father, our King, if he was here, I am sure he would have the right words to say to you all. The right words to steel your nerves and give you a glimpse of your impending victory. The right words to add to your abundant courage and noble hearts. However, I am not my father, and I have not the wisdom yet to know the words needed for this situation.” She paused for a moment. “What should a Crown Princess say? It is the question I pondered all last night. I have not the words to say to you all as your Crown Princess, and I fear they would be meaningless,” Ari paused. “Many of us have not seen our family for far too long or worse, lost some of them during these last few years. Death has visited us all, changing our families in ways we should not have had to ever see. No words as your Princess do I have to offer you,” she paused again, taking a deep breath. Ari could feel their eyes on her. Some of the men looked at her with concern, and other looks were gazes of protection.

  “I have only the words of a little girl. So, I will speak as a daughter, a sister, cousin, a niece, and nothing more.” The nervousness present in her voice from before was wholly incinerated in the passion of the words she now spoke. “I look at you, my brave fathers, my funny uncles,” she locked eyes with Zander, “my irreplaceable cousins and my beloved brothers.”

  As if on cue, a woman sitting on a horse at the rear of the gathered troops lowered the hood, partially concealing her face. She unfurled her dark cloak. The woman was Cina, and in the castle, no other servant held a higher position than she did. In fact, one would be hard-pressed to find a noble willing to disrespect her due to the high status she held in the royal children’s hearts. Cina held on to the reins with one hand, nudging the horse to walk down the middle of the formation. The gathered soldiers had no choice but to break ranks and allow Cina to pass. She guided the horse with one hand, and the other arm was wrapped around the body of Ari’s little brother. Prince Ryghton was wearing his tiny crown and a long shirt with the Crystal Dragon of their house sewn onto it. His tiny legs were in black leggings, and he had little brown boots on. The soldiers noticed the small three-year-old and excited murmurs course through the ranks; some called out his name. A lot of the men’s faces became like stern granite.

  “Poison me now,” Zander muttered under his breath, exasperated at the fact both of the king’s children were exposed.

  Ari picked up Witch Devil, catching Clyden by surprise. Ari positioned the glaive, hugging it with her left arm while the reins of her horse were held in her right hand. She guided her horse forward down the middle of the formation. The gathered cavalry in the front split to allow Ari free passage. She continued to speak, “You all do not look at a princess or a prince today! Today we are your blood! I am your daughter! Your sister!” she stopped the horse. Ari pointed toward her brother. “There is your son, my fathers. My beloved older brothers, see your little brother. Today I ask you not to fight for Loudas. I ask you today! No, I beg you, do not lay your life down for duty, courage, or honor. Do not sell your lives so cheaply today. I ask you to wage war for the only thing that matters. Your family!” Ari closed her eyes; a single tear traveled down her cheek. Her family roared louder than any storm could ever hope to sound.

  ***