Prologue
A mounted knight ducked as an arrow flew over his head and stuck in a tree beside him. The battles are getting more heated, he thought, I might need a leave of absence. Lord Fredric (the Braxton) snorted at his suggestion as he rode toward the rear of his army simultaneously ordering his archers to screen the movements of his infantry. He was second-in-command to the Resistance, which was stationed in the great forest outside the walls of Roebertsberg, called Outer Forest. The enemy, Barak the Black, is the blood- and power-thirsty uncle of the King. He remembered the day when the King and all the King’s True Followers (Fredric being one of them) were exiled from Roebertsburg, the Beautiful City of the King. They were thrown out to a valley that was abhorred by Barak and his followers; called Bright Valley. Outer Forest and the Wall separated them from Roebertsburg. It was only a matter of time until the King retook the city. It still befuddled Fredric why the war even started.
…
Fredric the Braxton followed the King closely. He liked the feeling of royalty nearby. “All hail the King!” he cried. As some bowed, others looking disdainfully upon the King. Anger boiled within him as he saw the rebellion brewing. When they were alone Fredric spoke, “Your majesty, you need to deal with these rebels; your uncle most of all.” The King’s uncle had arrived a month before and had brought with him nothing but trouble. He stirred unrest with the King’s own knights and officials. A rebellion was coming fast. He could see it in the people who refuse the bow to the King.
“Will you do nothing?”
“They must choose.”
Then Fredric and the King parted ways. Fredric went to his duties in the palace and the King to his chamber. That’s when it struck.
After he was finished with his duties, Fredric went to the palace garden. He met Gordon, the chief of the King’s guard.
“Greetings, friend,” greeted Gordon.
“Greetings, Gordon.”
Fredric did not like the look in Gordon’s eyes.
“Fredric," Gordon said, "I am not sure the King is the right leader of Roebertsburg.”
Fredric was taken aback at the by the open rebellion of Gordon’s words. “What are you saying, Gordon?”
“I believe we need a new leader.”
“How can you say that?”
“It’s not as ridiculous as you think it is. His uncle is a very capable leader. Come join us.”
“Us?”
“Yes. Did you think I was alone? Several of the King’s highest officials stepped from the bushes around Fredric.
“No! I would never turn against the King! Never!”
“Be rational, Fredric!”
"You be rational, Gordon!”
“Then face the consequences!”
At that moment Gordon drew his sword and thrust it at Fredric. Fredric sidestepped and drew his own sword just in time to block Gordon’s next attack.
“This is not what you want Gordon!”
“And why not? I am promised power. You will gain nothing but exile once we win.”
The battle raged not only between Fredric and Gordon, but across the palace. Fredric was soon overpowered by Gordon and the others. He was escorted outside the palace where all the King’s True Followers were gathered. The King was placed at the head of the group and they were escorted out of Roeberstberg. He found that a third of the King’s best warriors had turned. The other two-thirds were gone to other kingdoms or were caught off guard. When they reached the Wall, they were met by the uncle of the King, Barak (now named the Black), spat at the ground at his nephew’s feet. The King stopped and stared determinedly into his uncle’s eyes and said, “It is not over Barak. There will be one day when you will bow at my feet begging for mercy and mercy will not be had.” The king was then rammed in the Back with the butt of a spear by one of Barak the Black’s minions. Fredric cried out in anguish. “Do not be anguished, Fredric,” the King said, “The day of restoration is coming. In the meantime, we must train the untrained for battle. When we are ready we shall battle Barak and we shall win.”
Fredric gritted his teeth and bore the persecution, looking forward to the day of battle.
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