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    Silence reigned over the border crossing between Tyriu and Eldsprak. The babbling masses were long gone, as were the soldiers. Deserted. None of those traveling between the two kingdoms waited outside the walls of Kleotram. Trampled fields stretched in all directions from the city, and an eerie quiet weighed heavily on Goslin as he banged on the gate. The sun shone bright without a cloud in sight, chasing away the morning’s chill. In the distance, a lone bird chirped.


    "Do they already know about the rhinn?" Kax asked, his voice cheery.


    Goslin peered up the thick stone walls, hoping to catch some movement at the top. He saw none. "I don’t know, but I don''t like this."


    Eldsprak, his home country, was under siege by the rhinn, a human-like race from another world. Kleotram was the kingdom’s second largest city. If it had already fallen, things were dire indeed.


    He scratched his head and then sighed and stepped aside, gesturing for Kax to go ahead. "Try to get the lock. We don’t want the whole thing coming apart."


    The sleeves of his friend’s tunic were rolled up to his elbows and he’d discarded his gloves. Kax started wearing them recently in an attempt to hide the strange discoloring of his flesh. People tended to stare at his skin, which was slowly turning an obsidian black like his precious swords and Goslin''s shield. They were all products of their Sarien''s strange and unique magic. Pieces of their enemies were trapped in the weapons, and Goslin prayed that it wasn’t those very souls that were slowly bleeding into his friend''s body. He didn''t know how much of the taint covered Kax''s flesh now, but from what he noticed, the progression was swift and all encompassing.


    Kax flicked his brown hair out of his eyes and then drew the shorter of his two swords. "Bandit will make short work of this most treacherous obstacle!" He thrust it into the lock and the blade sliced smoothly into the thick, metal-banded wood. The lock fell into two pieces, clattering against the stone cobbles. Goslin knew that the same thing would have happened if Kax had cut straight into the stone wall. His blades were impossibly sharp.


    Kax withdrew the short blade he’d named Bandit, after a previous foe they encountered who was trapped inside and sheathed it. "That should do it."


    Goslin pushed against the smaller door fixed on the much larger gate. The hinges creaked in protest.


    When the door swung open, at least twenty men waited for them with the tips of their spears thrust at Goslin and Kax.


    Kax immediately reached for the pommel of his sword, but Goslin stopped him. "My name is Goslin of House Steerian, nephew of the King of Eldsprak. I demand you take me to Lord Sanders!"


    Men, women, and children huddled in doorways and windows all along the main street. The desperate looks on their faces gave Goslin pause. Hunger and hopelessness mingled with fear.


    Soldiers patrolled the streets and archers hid on the city wall. Everyone eyed Goslin and Kax warily, focusing their attention on their faces. These people knew of the rhinn, at least. The differences between humans and rhinn were small but noticeable. The invaders’ eyes were larger and their mouths wider.


    Kax pulled on his gloves and rolled down his sleeves, hiding his affliction. "These people look haunted," Kax muttered. He hunched in on himself as if wizened by the scrutiny they faced. He looked nervously about them, his eyes leaping to the shadows as if wanting to disappear into the nearest one. "If they’ve been kept in here for several weeks, food must be running short. They must know of the rhinn. Their fear is palpable," Goslin said.


    With everything happening in Eldsprak and the other kingdoms, they were right to be fearful, but you could not improve on your situation huddled in terror. The citizens of Kleotram needed a strong leader. Sanders, the lord of this city, was responsible for its inhabitants. A charge he obviously needed to be reminded of Goslin thought with disgust as he looked at the thin, dirty faces of a group of listless children sitting outside a nearby home.


    Due to the throng of people, it took Goslin and Kax nearly an hour to travel to the keep in the center of the city. Once the citizens of Kleotram realized they weren’t invaders, everyone, it seemed, emerged from their houses and crowded the two men, trying to catch any news from outside the city walls. Questions were shouted at Goslin and Kax. What was happening? Would the king come and save them? Had they brought any food?


    Goslin waved and smiled but remained silent. He didn’t have any answers. Even if he did, his words would have disappeared in the din and the tight press of bodies.


    At the keep, soldiers armed with spears kept the frantic citizens away. Two soldiers separated from the others to escort Goslin and Kax through the keep. A pang of guilt bloomed in Goslin’s chest at the relief he felt to have left the less fortunate behind, outside the keep''s walls. He’d help them somehow, he swore to himself. But to do so, he needed to speak with Sanders first.


    Kax shuddered, his face pale from the ordeal of crossing the city. Goslin noticed Kax reaching for his blade more than once when the crowd pressed in too close. His friend''s nose was scrunched in disgust. "That stink. Sanitation sure isn’t working in the lower city. Things are bad here, Princeling."


    "It’s not their fault if there isn’t clean water for proper hygiene," Goslin said, as much to himself as to his friend. It wasn''t the citizens'' fault, it was Sander''s. The lord had much to answer for.


    The keep’s pristine interior was just as he remembered it from his last visit. His father sent him to stay with Sanders, the city lord and a cousin to his father, for a few weeks before the academy, more than a year ago. Goslin couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his time at the academy. He’d thought it difficult then, but the constant struggles from the last few months proved it child’s play in comparison.


    "There''s the old bastard," Kax said, his voice loud enough to carry through the spacious hall. The man at the far end stiffened at his words. Sanders stood with his arms open in a gesture to welcome them.


    His father’s cousin kept his hair long, well past his shoulders, in an outdated style. Black hair dye stained the collar of his white, stately robes. The man’s thin face and large pointed nose gave him a hawkish expression.


    "Goslin, my boy!" He pointedly ignored Kax.


    Goslin reached out a hand when they approached, but Sanders swept him into a hug. "How have you been?"


    "What’s going on here?" Goslin asked. "Why are the gates shut? Why haven’t you come to Fyrie’s aid?"


    Sanders''s face darkened and he glanced at the soldiers flanking Goslin and Kax. "Let’s continue this in my study. Perhaps your good-natured friend here," he gestured to Kax, "can wait outside?"


    Goslin exchanged a quick look with Kax, who frowned but gave a short nod before sauntering off to the side.


    The door shut with a heavy thud behind Goslin, leaving him alone with Sanders.


    Goslin turned to face his cousin once removed. "Now tell me what’s going on here. Eldsprak is under an invasion and you’re hiding behind your walls."


    "Don''t speak to me in such a manner!" Sanders bellowed, his face red. "I am in charge here and will not tolerate that attitude, no matter who you are!"


    Goslin took a deep breath and spoke with as much calm as he could muster. "Then tell me. Fyrie is burning. Loft is under siege. I just came from Tyralien where we managed to hang on after coming within an inch of our lives. Who knows what’s going on in Vatnbloet and Jordfaste." His heart clenched as his thoughts flew to Emeryn, his wife, who was heading into the unknown. He forced his worries away. This was not the time to think of his beloved. "Why are you here?"If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Sanders''s face brightened. "Tyriu is free of these burning rhinn?"


    "For the moment."


    "We must go there then," Sanders mused as he scanned a bunch of maps laying across a wooden desk. "What of growers? Are there any in Tyralien? We’re running dangerously low on supplies."


    "They all left for the Kinship." Goslin furrowed his brow. "You would run?"


    Sanders looked up from his maps and sighed. "Listen, lad. I know you don’t want to hear this, but we’ve had messengers and scouts reporting that Fyrie is in the hands of the enemy. The pyromancers are with them, for fire’s sake! There is no fighting against them. Come with us! The rhinn will be here to claim Kleotram any day now."


    "Coward." The word left Goslin’s mouth before he could restrain himself. It was too late to change course. "I’m going to Fyrie. If it’s fallen, we’ll liberate it from the invading forces." He made a fist and held it out between them. "Join me instead, you and your soldiers!"


    "Naive whelp!" Sanders''s face reddened, as he pointed to the door. "Get out!" He added some choice curses, but Goslin cut them off by slamming the door behind him. The hall outside was empty except for Kax.


    Kax was leaning against a stone pillar nearby. "He didn’t want to join our noble cause, I take it?"


    "He did not," Goslin confirmed. "Did you find out anything?"


    Kax pushed off the pillar and followed Goslin. He pursed his lips. "Not much. No one is happy about the situation, but who can blame them?"


    "Do you think we could get some of the soldiers to join us?"


    "Sure. There are always some who are itching to fight. That’s the plan then? Grab whoever will come and fight our way home?"


    "That’s right."


    "I don’t like it."


    "Why not?" Goslin asked.


    "There’ll be rhinn and pyromancers, even more monsters. Anyone we bring won’t make a difference against that. They''ll just be fodder for the enemy."


    "So, you’re saying we should give up?" Goslin asked.


    Kax chuckled. "Of course not, but it would be better to continue on by ourselves. Use stealth to our advantage rather than numbers."


    Goslin opened a door that would take them to a courtyard where the soldiers trained. "Stealth? I thought your answer to every question these days was to cut it in two with those swords of yours."


    "Eh, I can be sneaky," Kax said. "Sometimes."


    "Thank you for the advice, but we need the numbers," Goslin said, turning to the men drilling in the yard. "This is a time to band together if we’re going to overcome this terrible threat to our kingdom. We’ll find more to join our cause along the way."


    "Villagers and farmers," Kax said shaking his head, but he didn’t protest further.


    Goslin straightened before addressing the men and women before him. In a loud voice to rise over the din, he said, "My name is Goslin of House Steerian, nephew to the king of Eldsprak. Do you find honor inside these walls?"


    A few stopped to listen, but most ignored him. Goslin continued, "Your kingdom is under siege, but you cower and hide!"


    More stopped. They didn’t appear to like what they were hearing, but Goslin spoke over their jeers, "I’m here to give you another path!"


    "To where?" Kax yelled the question. Goslin spotted his friend in the middle of a large group of swordsmen. Kax winked.


    Goslin drew his sword, and the metal sang as it came free from its sheathe. He pointed west. "To Fyrie! To glory! To the liberation of Eldsprak!"


    The men cheered. "Eldsprak! To glory!"


    "We leave at dawn!" Goslin yelled. "Tell your friends and fellow men. Tomorrow, we ride for glory!"


    When the courtyard cleared, Kax sauntered up. "That was easier than I thought."


    "People want to do what’s right," Goslin said, proud of his fellow countrymen. There’d been at least a hundred men drilling. They’d each tell their friends and family. By tomorrow, they would leave with enough men to counter any enemy forces they meet along the way. "Let’s go see if we can find an inn with enough water for a bath."


    The next morning, nineteen men waited for them by the main gate.


    "Where is everyone?" Goslin asked.


    Kax surveyed their new recruits. "I think this is it."


    The group consisted of men younger than even Goslin himself, and they all fidgeted with their equipment, not meeting his gaze.


    "Welcome to the first step of re-taking Eldsprak from the invading rhinn" Goslin boomed, trying to hide his disappointment. They all jumped in place and turned to face him, their eyes wide and alert. "Are more soldiers on their way?"


    No one answered, so Goslin pointed to the lad mounted closest to him. "I’m thankful for all of you who have decided to join in our glorious quest, but I thought there would be more of you."


    Two of the men before him were older, and one of them spoke up. A graying man with a short-clipped beard and tired eyes. At his belt, he wore a mace. "Sir," he grumbled, his heavy shoulders hunched over. "Lord Sanders heard of your recruitment drive and proclaimed that all who joined you would be shunned, and their families thrown out of Kleotram."


    Anger flushed through Goslin’s chest. "He did what? What’s your name?"


    "Asken."


    "Well met, Asken. And what of your family?"


    He shook his head. "I’ve none. None of us do."


    "I understand," Goslin said. "You’ve shown great courage to join our cause. Lord Sanders will face the consequences of his actions before this is all over."


    Kax rode up beside him. "So how did all of you get horses?"


    Asken cleared his throat and his weathered face reddened. "Let’s call it making up for lost wages, yeah?"


    Kax smiled. "Sounds fine to me." He pointed to a cloth bag slung over one of Asken’s shoulders. "You all brought some provisions as well, I take it?"


    "We did," Asken confirmed. "What little we could scrounge."


    "Good thinking," Goslin said. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Showed how much he’d learned since setting out. "Let’s move out."


    The men at the gate opened to let them through without making a fuss. Sanders didn’t show his face, but Goslin hadn’t expected him to. The coward would pay. Somehow. Goslin would see to it.


    Hart’s final resting place was Goslin''s first goal after setting out from Kleotram. A few hours into their journey, they spotted their first rhinn patrol. Like all those they’d faced before, these men were on foot. Six spears pointed in their direction, sunlight glinting off the weapons’ polished metal tips as Goslin ordered the charge.


    Hoofs thundered and dirt was tossed in all directions. The rhinn’s already large eyes widened in obvious fear when Goslin approached at the front with Kax at his side. His horse punched into their ranks and his sword sliced into one of the rhinn soldiers in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. Kax’s obsidian blade blurred and ended two more opponents. They rode through, then turned to watch their men make short work of those still standing. Asken’s mace thudded into a tall rhinn man’s face, caving it inward with a sickening crunch. The rest of the lads skewered the rhinn with spears, and in less than a minute, all that remained of the patrol lay in a bloody heap.


    "Well done, men," Goslin said, sheathing his sword after wiping it off. "Any injuries?"


    One of the young men, a short fellow with a blond mustache leaned over to the side and vomited. Most of it ended up on his own leg and the horse’s flank. "Sorry," he groaned.


    "One of them got me," a second lad said. He was a handsome fellow with long dark hair tied back with a strip of purple cloth. His hand pressed down on his left thigh. Blood trickled from under it.


    Goslin rode up to him.


    "Should bind that," Asken said. "It’s a lot of blood."


    "No one here happens to be a healer?" Kax asked, his tone cheerful. Everyone remained silent, and Kax sighed. "Didn’t think so. Should have brought Tom with us."


    "Tom?" Asken asked.


    "Never mind that," Goslin said. "Is no one here trained in combat healing?"


    Silence.


    "I think it stopped," the dark-haired youth said, removing his hand. Blood gushed out through the tear in his flesh. He quickly put his hand back to cover it, his face going white. "Perhaps not."


    "What’s your name, lad?" Goslin asked. He rummaged through his own pack to find a clean shirt. He cut it into strips with his knife.


    "Torkel," the lad said.


    "All will be well, Torkel," Goslin said, dismounting. He lifted the young man''s leg, placing it to rest on his own shoulder, then did his best in wrapping a few strips of cloth around the wound. The makeshift bandages turned red, but otherwise looked to be holding. "There. All better."


    Flies buzzed around them, attracted by the scent of the newly dead. Goslin wrinkled his nose and mounted. "Let’s keep going."


    "They aren’t carrying supplies with them," Asken pointed out.


    "So?" Kax asked.


    Asken shrugged. "They’re on foot so they can’t cover a lot of ground."


    "They must have an outpost nearby," Goslin said, understanding.


    He looked around at the flat landscape around them, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.


    "Want me to scout around?" Kax asked.


    Goslin nodded. "See what you can find. Be careful and catch up to the rest of us when you’re done. You know where to find us."


    "I do," Kax agreed, his face solemn. "Don’t start without me."


    He rode off and Asken took his place beside Goslin. "Should the lad really be going off alone?"


    "He can take care of himself."


    Asken peered after Kax, his brows furrowed. "If you say so."