believed I was home, in my tower, with my brothers, Mir and Jafer, warning me against danger. But when I looked around I realized that this wasn't my tower, nor was it my home. This was not Telfar, and my brothers were still dead.
"My lord! My lord!" Milo's alarmed voice called from behind the bedroom door.
"Yes. Come in."
Milo opened the door, yet stayed in its frame. "My lord, something terrible is happening. I think we're under attack."
I was out of my bed in a heartbeat, fully dressed in two, and at the main door to my rooms shortly after that.
"Stay here," I told Milo. Then, sword in hand, I left the safety of my rooms. Once in the corridor I joined the gathering of guards I could see at the junction.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"We're under attack, Your Highness."
"By whom?"
"Err. . . . " The guard stared at his companions. They all either shrugged or shook their heads in ignorance. Having found no help among his friends, the guard then ventured with some hesitation. "Farrellian? We were told to secure this section of the castle. That's all I know."
A scream of agony echoed in the distance. Without a doubt, it originated from the other end of the castle: the royal wing.
"Eva!" I breathed, and ran in the direction of the scream. When I burst out of the old wing's corridor, I collided with the captain of the guard. The man was in a state of panic, and it was pure luck that he didn't stab me with his sword right then and there.
"Back to your room!" he roared in my face; then catching himself, he added, "Please, Your Highness, for your own safety."
"Damn my safety! What's happening? Tell me!"
"Invaders are running through the castle killing men. So far they've slaughtered at least a dozen."
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air a short distance from were we stood. At once we all ran toward it.
"In the courtyard," shouted the man at the front of our group. Within moments, we were outside in the cold dawn hours, staring down at the fuming, gutted corpses of the two guards in charge of the gate.
I approached the bodies. A powerful stench of feces, urine, and blood poisoned the air around the remains. Clutching a hand over my nose, I fought back nausea. After some deep breathing, my stomach settled down and I was able to study the corpses without fear of vomiting on them. Both men's throats had been slashed and their bellies ripped open. In spite of what I had said about leaving magic in the past, I found myself extending a hand above the bodies, seeking that familiar tingling feeling. I couldn't tell if it was there or not. My fingers were too numb by the cold to feel anything. Maybe I've imagined it all. Maybe I've never felt magic here in the first place. Baffled, I stared at the corpses; they were in such a horrid condition. That must be it. Magic isn't this messy .
I turned to the captain of the guard who stood just behind me. "What sort of invader would do something like this? This is the work of wild beasts."
"Impossible! That cannot be," argued the captain.
Kneeling beside one of the corpses, I motioned for him to do the same.
He obeyed, but reluctantly.
"See those four parallel slashes across this man's throat. Those were not made with a sword, but with claws. Look how ragged their edges are. Look at this poor fellow's belly. Tell me, in your opinion, what sort of weapon would do such savage tearing?"
The captain stayed mute for a while, and although his eyes were wide open, I thought the man was refusing to see the truth. "Still," he finally began, "how could beasts roam the castle? That doesn't make sense. Why would they be doing this?"
I scratched my head. "Hounds and even wolves can be trained to do one's biddings. Someone could have introduced them inside the castle."
"Why?"
"Right—why? Why would anyone do such a thing? What's the use of all these senseless and brutal murders? It's—" Then the reason hit me like an anvil. I stood up. "To make a diversion, that's why!"
"A
"My lord! My lord!" Milo's alarmed voice called from behind the bedroom door.
"Yes. Come in."
Milo opened the door, yet stayed in its frame. "My lord, something terrible is happening. I think we're under attack."
I was out of my bed in a heartbeat, fully dressed in two, and at the main door to my rooms shortly after that.
"Stay here," I told Milo. Then, sword in hand, I left the safety of my rooms. Once in the corridor I joined the gathering of guards I could see at the junction.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"We're under attack, Your Highness."
"By whom?"
"Err. . . . " The guard stared at his companions. They all either shrugged or shook their heads in ignorance. Having found no help among his friends, the guard then ventured with some hesitation. "Farrellian? We were told to secure this section of the castle. That's all I know."
A scream of agony echoed in the distance. Without a doubt, it originated from the other end of the castle: the royal wing.
"Eva!" I breathed, and ran in the direction of the scream. When I burst out of the old wing's corridor, I collided with the captain of the guard. The man was in a state of panic, and it was pure luck that he didn't stab me with his sword right then and there.
"Back to your room!" he roared in my face; then catching himself, he added, "Please, Your Highness, for your own safety."
"Damn my safety! What's happening? Tell me!"
"Invaders are running through the castle killing men. So far they've slaughtered at least a dozen."
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air a short distance from were we stood. At once we all ran toward it.
"In the courtyard," shouted the man at the front of our group. Within moments, we were outside in the cold dawn hours, staring down at the fuming, gutted corpses of the two guards in charge of the gate.
I approached the bodies. A powerful stench of feces, urine, and blood poisoned the air around the remains. Clutching a hand over my nose, I fought back nausea. After some deep breathing, my stomach settled down and I was able to study the corpses without fear of vomiting on them. Both men's throats had been slashed and their bellies ripped open. In spite of what I had said about leaving magic in the past, I found myself extending a hand above the bodies, seeking that familiar tingling feeling. I couldn't tell if it was there or not. My fingers were too numb by the cold to feel anything. Maybe I've imagined it all. Maybe I've never felt magic here in the first place. Baffled, I stared at the corpses; they were in such a horrid condition. That must be it. Magic isn't this messy .
I turned to the captain of the guard who stood just behind me. "What sort of invader would do something like this? This is the work of wild beasts."
"Impossible! That cannot be," argued the captain.
Kneeling beside one of the corpses, I motioned for him to do the same.
He obeyed, but reluctantly.
"See those four parallel slashes across this man's throat. Those were not made with a sword, but with claws. Look how ragged their edges are. Look at this poor fellow's belly. Tell me, in your opinion, what sort of weapon would do such savage tearing?"
The captain stayed mute for a while, and although his eyes were wide open, I thought the man was refusing to see the truth. "Still," he finally began, "how could beasts roam the castle? That doesn't make sense. Why would they be doing this?"
I scratched my head. "Hounds and even wolves can be trained to do one's biddings. Someone could have introduced them inside the castle."
"Why?"
"Right—why? Why would anyone do such a thing? What's the use of all these senseless and brutal murders? It's—" Then the reason hit me like an anvil. I stood up. "To make a diversion, that's why!"
"A
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