A Stolen Crown by Jordan Baker

pulled his axes from his belt. Now it was time for the dirty work.
    Kaleb blew his horn again and men dressed in white appeared from the snow covered ground beneath the trees and streamed toward the train of wagons still guarded by a significant number of Manfred’s men. Across the river, the rest of the soldiers watched impotently as Kaleb's men, who they immediately recognized to be too well equipped and too well organized to be mere brigands, attacked the few soldiers that were left on the other side of the river with the wagons. Brian ran down toward the wagons where several of the other men had already engaged the soldiers. He saw several more soldiers jump from inside a wagon and he ran to attack them.
    Brian felt his anger flare at the sight of Manfred’s soldiers wielding their steel at him. He had been waiting for a chance to strike back at them and relished the opportunity now that it lay before him. He tried to control himself as he felt the swing of his axes go wild. Maybe these were the men who had tortured his father, maybe not. Whatever the case, they were on the wrong side of this fight. He felt a grim resolve come over him as one of his axes bit into a soldier’s neck. The man fell, clutching his hand to stop the blood that spilled his life out. Brian caught the other soldier’s sword on the curve of his axe and twisted it, wrenching the blade from the man’s grip. He pulled his other axe from the falling man and swung it into the face of the other, splitting his jawbone. Another swing and the man died quickly.
    It was soon over and, amid the arrows that were now being shot by the soldiers who were stuck on the other side of the river, Brian and the rest of Kaleb’s men began turning the wagons around. Brian handed the reins to one of the men when Fergus approached with an arrow in his hand. It had been tightly wrapped with parchment.
    “This for them,” he said, pointing to the soldiers across the river. “Message from Kaleb.” He handed it to Brian.
    “A thank you letter?” Brian asked. Fergus laughed.
    “Should be.” He chuckled and went to help the other men with the wagons as Brian knocked the arrow to his bow. He took aim at one of the large wooden posts jutting up from the ground on the other side of the river and let it fly. Brian had distinguished himself as Kaleb’s best archer. For a lesser archer, it would have been a difficult shot, but the arrow struck true. He smiled and waved at the soldiers across the river, happy to deliver Kaleb’s message, whatever it was.
    On the other side, the commander of the convoy watched as the wagon train turned and moved away from the river, disappearing down the road and out of sight. The commander did not look forward to making his report upon his return to the Baron’s castle at White Falls. Manfred would not be pleased and he himself would likely be demoted for this disaster. One of his men approached with an arrow in his hand. He handed it to the commander who saw that a piece of parchment had been tightly rolled around its shaft. He carefully untied the thin cords that secured it and read the note. It was addressed to Manfred.
     
    Baron Manfred Teraine,
    Thou art hereby advised that thy unfair use of the peoples of this land is hereby concluded. Henceforth, any action taken by thee and those under thy command that is not in keeping with the King’s Code detailed in the Treaty of Maramyr shall be considered unlawful. Shouldst thy king order thee otherwise, thou shalt be held accountable for executing these unlawful commands as these lands are the rightful jurisdiction of the House of Alaran. It is the clear duty of the Lords of Maramyr to remind their ruler of the laws and traditions of the kingdom.
    Ever loyal servant to Maramyr,
    Kaleb Alaran, Lord of White Falls
     
    The commander was not overly surprised when he read the name signed at the bottom of the letter. He was well aware of Lord Kaleb Alaran, the man who had been the lord of the