Chapter 1

The sky was blue, brilliant blue, speckled with fluffy white clouds that moved lazily westward. Occasionally one such ball of cotton would catch the golden yellow of the Sun as it began to move further west. The autumn wind blew steadily, stirring a cool breeze, ruffling the grass where the three princes lay.

“Did you ever wonder how we all managed to be the same age?” Darial asked to no one in particular. “Or why our father’s are all the same too?”

“I suppose my father could have done something about it.” Replied the Makros, his hand moving a fraction to cover his eyes from the Sun. “And his father before him.”

“So you mean they planned it?” Darial asked.

Alberin grinned, “of course they did idiot, otherwise eventually there would be a generation gap. The Trinited Throne is based around three bonded and united individuals. That would be hard to do when one was 7 years older then the other or whatever. It would lead to a lot of imbalances.

“I see,” mused Darial.

“So why do we all have sisters?” Asked Makros, tilting his head over to Alberin who lay in the middle.

“I’m not too sure,” conceded Alberin, “maybe as backup.”

Makros sat up and exchanged glances with Darial. The young prince in the middle caught the look between his cousins. “What?!” he asked.

“You admitted to not knowing something…” replied Darial, “it’s a miracle.”

Alberin punched him in the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I’ve gotten any softer, remember that.”

“Of course my liege,” answered Makros, trying unsuccessfully to bow while seated.

“Shut up you two.”

“By the way…” began Makros as he looked down the hill from where he sat.

“What now?!” Alberin huffed, using his arms to cover his face.

“I think Alisa’s coming… and she’s running fast!”

“WHAT?!” Exclaimed the other two young men, sitting up as well.

Alberin’s younger sister raced up the last side of the hill before stumbling to a stop in front of his brother. She leaned over her knees, breathing hard as she tried to speak.

“Whe… ve… ou… ee… be…”

“Huh?” The three boys replied in unison.

The young teenage girl, already becoming a woman, stamped her feet and took a deep breath. “Where have you three been?!” She repeated, making far more sense the second time.

“What do you mean?” Asked Darial, even as Makros and Alberin exchanged puzzled glances. Makros looked at his cousin, eyebrow raised. “We’ve only been out here for half a day, surely they haven’t thought we’re dead already… I would have thought at least another two hours before they started searching for us.”
 
Alisa send a blistering glance at her smiling cousin. “No you bonehead, it’s the 12th of Genus today, or have you forgotten what that means.”

Suddenly understanding dawned in Darial and Makros’ eyes.

Alisa continued on, noting his brother’s puzzled glances. “It’s your birthdays in 7 days right? You know who normally attends the 21st?”

Alberin nodded slowly. “Oh.”

“They’re here?!” Darial blurted out in excitement.

“The scouts came in 4 hours ago, about half a days ride ahead. You’ve got about 50 minutes to make it down that hill and…” her words were lost in dust.

She stood up to look at the three running boys, ”don’t forget to clean up!”

Her message delivered, Alisa sank onto the ground. She couldn’t have sent a servant, for no one but the four of them knew of this place. It was peaceful and with a great view of the countryside away from the Capital, the cousins had wanted to preserve it for themselves.

As she tried to catch her breath, a thought came to her. From here she might be able to catch Jemima’s convoy as it came in. She so wanted to greet Darial’s sister.

It took her a few more minutes… but suddenly a far more important realization dawned.

“Darn those boys!” She exclaimed as she too got up and ran down the hill.

***

Running full pelt, the boys arrived at castle in a flurry of smudged faces and hands. Without stopping, they headed straight for the bathhouse, clothes flying everywhere. Propriety and dignity went out the window as they hurriedly stripped before diving into the warm water. After a quick scrub and rinse, with Alberin paying special attention to his hair, the three were out and off to their rooms, with a brief stop to don a hastily procured robe.

The young servant in charge of the bathroom stared after the three as they raced off. “I wonder what’s got them in such a rush?” he mused to himself.

The boys made it to their rooms in record time, situated as they were next to one another on the second highest level of the castle.

Darial was hopping into his pants when he heard a tremendous crash coming from Alberin’s room next to his. “You alright Al?” He yelled, almost tripping as he hopped towards the door.

“Yeah, I’m alright, just knocked over that suit of armor that Dad gave me!”

“Your Highness,” came Makros’ mocking tone from the prince’s doorway, “that armor is worth a fortune!”

“Makros you devil, how’d you change so fast?!” Demanded Alberin, shrugging on his doublet and triple checking his appearance in the mirror. “As your soon to be ruler, I demand you tell me!”

Darial grinned to himself as he finished lacing up his boots. He already knew the answer to that question. As he walked out his door, he caught sight of the amulet that Jemima had made him before his departure from Sol. He grabbed the chain and latched it on as he moved into the hallway.

“Hurry up Al, we’re going to be late,” he said, standing next to Makros, who was toying with a broach.

 “Don’t worry so much Darial,” replied Alberin, “we have plenty of time, the convoys won’t arrive for another...”

Suddenly the sound of herald trumpets echoed in from the room’s window.

“Another minute at least!” finished the young royal, looking frantically around for something. Catching sight of his silver circlet, he grabbed it quickly before bolting from his seat and between the two other cousins.

“Hurry up, we’ll be late.” He called over his shoulder.

Darial and Makros exchanged glances once more, before hurrying after their irresponsible leader. Thankfully the trip down to the courtyard was short, if one knew the right passages to take, and the trio made it just as the first horses marked with the crest of Syne began to trot through the gateway.

Skidding to a stop beside his father, Alberin hurriedly straightened his robes and hair, feeling for any stray strands.

“Pst…” Darial caught his eyes, and patted his head.

“What?” He asked, shrugging.

“Your crown, idiot,” hissed Makros, stepping up to his cousin’s left.

“Oh,” Alberin muttered as he slipped the circlet on.

The trumpets started again as the first carriages appeared across the drawbridge. They stopped at the steps before the King, and Lord Syne emerged from the doorway. Walking down the ladder, he strode over to the King and embraced him in a rough bear hug.

“Alberon, long it has been since we last spoke.”

King Alberon grimaced, “Mallon, I never understood why you had to talk like that after our 21st.”

Lord Syne smiled, and gestured for his wife to come forward. “Elegance and sophistication have its place, my friend.”

As Lady Syne also greeted the King, Darial glanced over at Makros. “Why don’t you talk like that?”

Makros grimaced, subconsciously imitating the King’s expression, “It’s very… well… outdated I guess,” he hedged, not looking at his cousin.

Alberin leaned over, “family issues?” he asked.

“Not quite,” was all that Makros had time to reply before he was hit by a cannonball in the shape of the 15-year-old girl.

“MAKROS! Pay attention!” Snapped Marissa even as she clung to her brother. “You didn’t even notice when I got out!”

Ignoring his two cousins who were chortling into their hands, Makros smiled at his younger sibling with genuine love and returned the hug. “It’s nice to see you too sparrow, you look positively beautiful.”

Marissa shot her brother a withering look, “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t call me that.”

“It’s a specially occasion dear sister, or would you prefer I call you ‘baby dearest’?”

Marissa stuck her tongue out at her brother before engulfing Darial in another similar hug.

“Darial! Wow, you’re so big!”

The young Knight laughed, patting Marissa on the head, “I see that you’ve grown proportionally too, you’re still just up to my chin, even 10 years later!”

“What about me?” complained Alberin, looking askance at the young lady Syne, “where’s my greeting.”

Marissa’s eyes grew coy, “Makros is my brother, and I’ve seen you since seeing Darial. You’ll just have to wait young prince.”

“Were they always like this?” Darial whispered to Makros.

Before the young mage could reply, Lady Syne interrupted them, “actually they were a lot worse. It was almost like watching a couple bicker… except these two didn’t have the benefits of romance.”

“My Lady Syne,” intoned Darial, Alberin and Makros together, inclining their heads.

Alberin, as unofficial leader, continued, “we’re are honored at your presence.”

“There’s no need to be so formal Alberin, for soon, you three will be boys no more and than it is I who will bow to you.”

“Really?” blurted Darial. Makros tried to suppress his laugh, and Marissa didn’t even bother.

“Of course silly, you three are going to be the heirs to Trinited Throne.” She managed to squeeze out between her giggles.

Lady Syne simply smiled before moving on. Pausing for a moment before Makros, she placed a hand on his head before moving after her husband who was climbing the stairs with the King and Queen.

“Aren’t we going to go after them?” Asked Marissa, looking questioningly at her brother.

“You can if you want, but I think Darial will want to wait for Jemima, since she’s infinitely more pleasant company than yourself.

Marissa’s lower lip began to tremble and she turned, preparing to dash off after her parents. Alberin stopped her though, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t be silly Mar, you know he’s just kidding.”

“But…”

“Don’t you want to meet your other cousins? You’ve met all the boys, surely you’ve always wanted to meet Darial’s sister.”

“Speaking of which,” began Makros as he looked around, “where’s the other royal highness?”

All four cousins scanned the courtyard, but apart from servants, soldiers and the odd scullery boy, no one was insight.

“That’s odd, I wonder how long it’s been since we last saw her?” Alberin mused quietly as his eyes scanned to and fro.

“55 minutes and 43 seconds,” replied Makros with crisp confidence. Noticing the stares of the other three, “not that I was counting or anything, I just know these things. It’s because I’m a mage.”

Alberin rolled his eyes, but continued to look out. “I hope she’s alright, maybe we should have left her alone on that hill.”

“Alisa’s a tough girl, she’ll be alright,” said Darial, clapping his cousin on the back.

“Either way,” continued Marissa, “it would take a girl more time the 55 minutes and 43 seconds to come down from a hill and get ready to receive visitors. She’ll probably have to greet my parents in the throne room with the rest of the nobles.”

“The rest of the nobles?” Asked Darial. “Ahh, so THAT’S why there’s no one here.”

Alberin and Makros shook their heads in quiet despair.

“You know, if my parents went up with yours, it might mean that House Sol is a fair way away. Maybe we should head up too.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” replied Makros, looking over at Darial. “What do you think Dar?”

Darial considered the question, subconsciously rubbing the amulet around his neck. Somehow it seemed colder than it had before.

“The trumpets will give us warning, we’ll go mingle with the nobility.” He said the last with obvious distaste.

“Come now dear cousin, nobles aren’t all that bad.” Said Makros, patting his cousin’s shoulder. “We’ll protect you from the scary politicians.”

“Thanks…”

***

The welcome party for the House of Syne was lavish, as are most of the events that were attended by nobility. The three boys were well known to the rest of the court, but the introduction of young Marissa, vibrant, beautiful and outgoing, added a whole new dimension for many of your younger men in the room. Alberin and Makros were content to sit back and watch her break hearts, but Darial felt compelled to “introduce” the young girl to any hot-eyed suitors. The way he toyed with his sword hilt and scowled got his point across admirably.

Eventually, due to a particularly scared looki from one poor fellow, she realized what was going on.
“Really Darial, I’m perfectly able to take care of myself. I’m a big girl now.”

Darial gave a half smile before sizing his cousin up. “I agree, and that’s why I’m here, to remind everyone that while you’re beauty can melt their hearts, breaking of proper boundaries will result in breakage of other things as well.”

Marissa laughed, a chime like sound. “You’re sweet Darial, but really, go talk to my parents, I can look out for myself.”

Darial looked reluctant.

“Please?” Marissa pleaded.

“Fine.” He conceded, “but I’ll be just over there if you need anything.”

“Thank you dear cousin.” The younger girl replied, and rewarded him with a quick hug. “Now shoo.”

Feel strangely chastised by his junior, Darial head over to the royal dais where many of the high-ranking nobles were engaged in conversation with two of the three rulers.

“We’ve missed you in the Capital your Highness, it’s been too long.”

“Well, we all sacrifice for the people and causes that are of the greatest import. None more so than our own children, and the welfare of our land.”

“Well said Lord Syne!”

“Have you any word of Lord Sol? Their latest messenger hasn’t arrived, yet they were reportedly only a quarter days ride away from you.”

“I have had not the opportunity to learn about my dear cousin, perhaps if they haven’t arrived by nightfall, we shall use our arts to scry for his whereabouts.”

Darial stopped short of bothering the King and his nobles, this latest news troubling him more then the crush of people surrounding his uncles, adopted surely, but uncles none the less. Instead he went looking for Makros, finding the young mage engaged in conversation with his mother.

“But it’s tradition my son, sure you understand that.”

“Traditions need to be updated sometimes mother, I don’t see the necessity nor even the reason for what you ask.”

“You will, one day. However for now, I believe young Sol is looking to speak to you.”

Darial inclined his head politely, “Lady Syne, sorry to intrude.”

“Not at all Darial, Makros was probably going to storm off anyway, you may have noticed that he’s occasionally moody and given to stubborn tempers.”

Darial blinked twice, but didn’t have the chance to reply as Makros dragged him away.

“What?” He demanded shortly.
Darial tried to recover his thoughts, “I need you to find my parents and sister, the King and your father haven’t received any message and it’s overdue.”

Makros raised his eyebrow. “It would take a very great fool to attack a full contingent of the Knights of Sun, especially if their Captain rides with them.”

Darial seized his cousin’s arm. “A great fool who could hurt Jemima. Do we wish to take that risk?”

Makros looked hard at his friend, but then sighed. “Fine, come with me.”

The young mage led the way through the crowded banquet hall, threading through the assembled nobles clustered in their factions and clichés. As he reached the side door leading to an exit corridor, Alberin appeared beside them. “Where’s the fire?” he asked, a large grin spreading on his face.

“Darial is worried about his family,” replied Makros, continuing upwards. “Their messenger hasn’t checked in, and so he worries that something may have happened.”

Alberin’s grin disappeared as fast as it had appeared. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Scry!”

“I’m not my father, my liege, I can’t scry in any old cup of water. I need my mirror.”

Darial glanced at his cousin. “I was meaning to ask you about that, I could have sworn I saw the women’s bath house in your mirror the other day, but I couldn’t be sure… it was gone before I took a second glance.”

Alberin burst into laughter, but quickly suppressed it. His eyes still sparkled with malicious mirth. Darial gave him a questioning look.

“You must have been dreaming Darial, I don’t scry for no reason, and especially not on such obviously in appropriate places.”

“Of course not,” Alberin agreed, still trying hard not to laugh.

The rest of the trip to Makros’ room was silent, Darial consumed with worry for his family, Makros with annoyance at his own.

When they reached his room, the trio piled in. Makros took a seat at the mirror and the other two took their places on either side. Alberin’s eyes traced up the silver scrollwork, noting how they wound completely around the entire perimeter of the reflective glass.

“It’ll take a few moments. Whom do you want me to scry for?”

“Jemima Sol.”

The mirror was still for a few more moments, then suddenly the image within grew cloudy. Within seconds their faces were no longer reflected, but instead grey and swirling masses moved within. Then the picture began to refocus on a young girl.

“She looks scared…” commented Alberin.

Darial’s voice was slightly panicked, “can you move the image back? We need to see more, can we hear sound?”

Makros grimaced; small beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “You want sound huh? Fine!”

The picture began to move away from the girl when suddenly, all around them, rang the sounds of a battle in progress. Soon they could see men in black armor engaged in combat with Knights of the Sun. Lady Sol sat in the carriage with her daughter and Darial’s father roamed the perimeter of the battle. The Knights were outnumbered 2 to 1 and already had drawn themselves into a ring.

Darial’s mind froze for a moment, but already his training had begun to take over. “Makros, can you tell me where that is?”

The Mage’s eyes were frightened, but he swallowed and tried to concentrate. “10 miles West North West of the Capital, they fight on a hill about 200 yards from the road.”

“Alberin, inform the King of this event and the location. Bring as many men as you can on short notice, leave in no more then 10 minutes, tell the rest to follow.”

The young prince took a startled look at his cousin before nodding and bolting out the door.

When Darial saw that the two of them were alone, he turned to his cousin.
“Makros, I know you can take me there. I didn’t want to endanger Alberin too.”

“You sure about this? You could just be killed in a futile attempt at rescue.”

Darial nodded slowly and drew his sword. “True, but that’s my family there. You don’t have to come, but I need to be there now!”

Makros sighed deeply. “As you wish Captain,” once more he concentrated, and than flung his hands at the mirror.

The world blurred, and for a second Darial experienced the strange sensation of being at two places at once. Then he was in the middle of the battle.

Before he had a chance to re-orientate himself, a black armored knight charged into him, his sword searching for Darial’s unarmored chest. With speed born of desperation the young man threw himself to the side, and came to his feet with a roll. Anger blazed in his eyes as he planted both feet while drawing his own weapon. As the enemy charged, he deftly parried the blade and reversed his swing, sweeping off the helmet, with head still inside, of his foe.

Taking stock of his situation, Darial located the carriages and made for that. Several dark knights attempted to stand in his way but his speed and strength far surpassed theirs and he moved slowly but surely to his family.

As he dispatched yet another opponent, he caught sight of his father astride his great black steed and broke into a run. The green grass of the hill blurred as his vision honed in.

“Father!” he called, fending off another attacker.

Lord Darius Sol turned at the sound of his son’s voice. “Darial? What are you doing here?” he demanded, also blocking attacks.

“You looked like you needed some help.” Was the breathless reply as the younger Sol pulled up next to this father. “Where’s Jemima and Mother?”

Lord Sol motioned to the carriage, “they’re in there. It’s the safest place at the moment.”

“Sounds good, what’s your strategy.”

Lord Sol smiled, “destroy all the enemies, survive long enough to see my cousin.”

“Sounds good sir.”

Lord Sol turned to shout an order to his second in command. “Havnor! Get a horse for my son!”

“Yes sir!”

Mounted alongside his father, Darial dropped the reins and guided the horse with his knees. “A shield?” he asked.

Lord Sol grinned, several years disappearing from his face. “Too defensive,” he said, drawing a sword from behind his back. “Here, take this.”

Darial stared at the brilliant four-foot long, crystal bright blade and ornate gold hilt work. A glowing blue sapphire served as a pommel stone, fused directly to the weapon.   “Isn’t that…”
“You would have received it in a few days anyway, might as well get some practice, right son? Here, catch.”

Lord Sol flung the blade at his only son as Darial stared in first amazement then horror, flinging up his arm to shield his face. As the weapon flew closer, he snapped his eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain that was undoubtedly going to follow.

Suddenly his hand grasped something, and startled, he dared open his eyes. His fingers were wrapped around the sword’s hilt.

“Don’t worry son, I haven’t lost my mind. That weapon was forged for Solarius on the day of his coronation, it would never hurt one of this descendants.”

“Unbelievable…” breathed Darial.

“Look sharp, here they come!”

A sword in either hand, Darial turned to face a squad of mounted attackers. “Let’s see what this sword is made of.” He said, a slightly evil smile spreading up his face.

“Charge!”

Hearing his father’s bellowed order, Darial heeled his horse into battle, urging the stallion to keep up with the Captain. Lord Sol was flanked on his right by Havnor, his second in command, and the three of them crashed right into the enemies.

Darial found that wielding two swords was much harder than he expected on horseback, especially as he only could fight on one side. The crystal blade sat useless in his right hand while his left struggled merely to protect his father’s unprotected side and back.

Above the roar and ring of battle, Darial hear his father give a new order. “Back to back!”

Swinging his horse to the side, Darial found the new position gave him the liberty to utilize his unique weapon combination. His new weapon, the family’s greatest treasure and mark of their office, was perfectly balanced, and sharper than any steel. Up flung swords were shorn in two and shields broken like they didn’t exist. Ignoring the blood that was beginning to cover his face, Darial pressed on.

Suddenly his amulet turned to ice on his chest, and he gasped, his right hand clutching at the sudden sting as he dropped his mighty sword. A knight, armor black as midnight, crowed in victory as he raised his sword high in two hands. Galloping hard, he swung with all his might at Darial’s unprotected head.

By the time he realized what was happening, the young Sol, trained as he was, knew that it was too late. He slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the sword to rip his head from his body.

Without warning the crystal blade blazed with blue fire as it flew from the ground into the air. Though he wasn’t aware of the flying blade, his hand grasped the hilt as the sword plunged itself straight into his would be executor’s visor. The knight stiffened and felt out of his saddle, sword falling from nerveless fingers.

Taken aback by his strange rescue from certain death, the young man was distracted from his musing by the situation that he was still in. Darial slowly turned around, his eyes scanning the battlefield. He counted almost 30 fallen bodies and many rider less horses. All too many fallen wore the burnished bronze that marked a Knight of the Sun, yet fully double their number wore the black armor, their origins unknown.

Darial nudged his steed into a walk, guiding him to where his father knelt, removing the helmet from one of the fallen Knights.

“I would never that thought that we would have suffered such an attack in our own country.” Lord Sol mused, sadness evident in his voice. “Almost 10 of our best dead… a terrible loss.”

The surviving Knights had regrouped and now approached their Captain several leading more then one horse. “Orders sir?” Havnor asked, nodding once to Darial.

Lord Sol’s tone was crisp and authoritative. “Gather the horses and tie our fallen to their saddles. Strip the enemies of all armor and weapons. If any are still alive, bind them and keep them that way. Darial, I assume help is on its way.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good work son. We will wait here until they find us. If there are any other ambushes along the way, we’re not in any condition to spring them. Darial, go see to your mother and sister. I’ll be along shortly.”

Darial nodded his acceptance, smiling slightly as he turned. Even though he was approaching 21, age wasn’t considered when receiving orders from the Captain.

Bloody and tired, Darial realized that he still carried the crystal blade. He turned to give it back to his father, but Lord Sol was busy talking with Havnor. With a shrug he sheathed the weapon where his other sword had been. It was a bit loose, but at least it fit. With a sigh he trudged up towards the carriage.

Perhaps the first sign that anything was wrong was the lack of any guards. Standard procedure would have left at least two guards in charge of all civilians who were embroiled in a battle, especially if they were as important as Lady Sol and her daughter. Suddenly Darial realized that something may have been wrong.

He broke into a run. “Jemima!” He called, closed the distance to the carriage in seconds. “Mother?!”

The scene insight was frighteningly clean, but terrifyingly wrong. Two Knights lay sprawled on the seats, looking for all the world like they were asleep. Only the slowly growing puddle of blood at their feet, seeping out of their armor, gave lie to that first impression. What was worst, there was no sign of his family.

“FATHER!”

Immediately his eyes began to roam the scene, and he spotted a piece of light blue material, his sister’s favorite color. Reaching over the dead bodies he picked it up, and looked out the other side of the carriage. Several meters away a few small trees grew in a sort of grove. The afternoon Sun cast a long shadow, but around that area was flat grass for many meters.

Jumping down Darial ran around the carriage even as his father and the other Knights approached. He ignored their questions and sprinted to the trees, drawing his sword as he came closer. When approached the shadows he stopped, moving cautiously, alert for traps or hidden assailants.

There was movement behind him, but he kept going, booted feet making no sound, even among the fallen leaves.

“See anything?” His father whispered.

“No.”

They examined the trees and the bushes, finding nothing. Darial slammed his fist into a trunk in pure frustration. “It was a diversion?!” he half asked, half screamed.

As he was talking, a cry went up among the Knights. Darial paid them no heed, already knowing that it was Alberin and the King. He didn’t blame them for coming late, for even victory hadn’t changed the fact that his sister was still missing.

The King conversed briefly with Lord Sol, his face betraying shock only when he heard the last piece of news. Alberin immediately walked over to where Darial stood. The young Knight was brooding, darkness like a cloud over his spirit.

“It wasn’t your fault Darial.” Alberin said, laying a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

“Where’s Makros?” he demanded, spinning to face his cousin. “I need him to scry.”

Suddenly the air beside them began to shimmer and Makros appeared. He looked ghastly, face drawn and his eyes shone feverishly. Drops of sweat flowed down his face as he almost stumbled in Alberin.

“What happened to you?” wondered the young Prince, slipping an arm under his cousin to prop him up, “you look terrible.”

“Darial,” gasped Makros, “my father and I… we’ve been watching since you found your sister gone.” He paused, trying to catch his breath. With an effort he stood up. “I passed out after sending you here, but my father came up and opened the mirror again.”

“You alright?” Darial interrupted, concern for his cousin’s wellbeing replacing his worry.

“I’ll be fine,” shrugged the drawn mage with a wan smile. “We’ve tried to scry for your mother and sister, but we’re being blocked by powerful magic. Not even our combined might, along with that of my mother, could find her.”

“So we’re dealing with a powerful wizard,” mused Alberin, “this was no ordinary bandit raid.”

“No,” agreed Makros, “in all Termaine and even in the bordering nations, there is no family more powerful than ours.”

“That we know of,” Darial muttered darkly.

“True,” he conceded.

As they were talking King Alberon approached, “come my sons, there is grave news to discuss. We must head back to the Albian.”

The three cousins exchanged dark looks. All three nodded slowly and returned to their mounts. There were dark days in store.

***

Almost 50 men, nobles and their respective bodyguards, had ridden to Sol’s aid. Along the way home they met more groups who had received word late. The mood among the riders was grim and the tales they bore were soon heard throughout the city.

Word spread uncontrollably. While many praised the Knights of the Sun for their victory in the face of overwhelming numbers, the questions surrounding Jemima and Lady Sol’s disappearance cast a pall that was not easily banished. Lord Sol had retreated to his private chambers, spending the night alone. The next day both Lord Syne and the King went into to talk to him him.

By mid afternoon King Alberon emerged, tired but smiling slightly. Darial waited outside, anxious for news of his father. “Your Captain’s doing alright son, he’ll be out in a few days. He misses your mother.”

Darial nodded, by now familiar with the feeling of missing his family. “Alberin wanted to know what your plans were for the coronation.”

King Alberon chuckled, his son’s audacity causing a brief break of the clouds that surrounded the current situation. “Anxious to rule is he?”

“Actually, I believe he just wants what’s best for the country sir,” Darial replied, shaking his head.

Alberon nodded, but then sighed. “We’ll postpone the coronation until this has been sorted out. It wouldn’t be much of a celebration with so many unanswered questions.”

Darial bowed, “as you command.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “So formal Darial? You’ve been spending too much time with Makros.”

Darial smiled softly, “actually it’s what my mum taught me to when I don’t know what to do; be extra formal.”

“Wise woman your mother.”

“Yes my liege.”

Alberon patted Darial shoulder; no longer able to reach down to do so. “Do you want to see your father?”

“It’s alright sir, I’ll be here when he feels up to leaving.”

Suddenly there was the noise of running feet and Makros appeared around the corner. He skidded to a stop when he saw the King, glancing quickly at Lord Sol’s room. “My King,” he said, nodding quickly before turning to his cousin. “Darial, have you seen Alisa?”

Darial shook his head, “not since yesterday. Why?”

Makros’ eyes looked a bit wild as he replied. “She didn’t come home last night. No one’s seen her since we have. Alberin’s taken a search party out to the hill.”ß

Needles of ice began to roil in Darial’s stomach as he considered the possibilities. “You don’t think…”

The King however interrupted that. “Guards!”

Two Knights of the Sun, their purple capes indicating their position as the King’s personal bodyguards, marched around the corner. “SIR!”

“Seal the capital, no one gets in or out. Begin an immediate search through all houses for Jemima Sol, Lisal Sol or Alisa Rhyte. Turn out the entire garrison, you have my authority to take whatever measures are necessary to complete the task.”

“Sir!”

As the Knights left at a jog, Darial glanced at Makros. “Do you think that’s wise sire? I want to see my sister more than anything, but conducting such a massive search could unsettle the population.”

Alberon’s face was buried in his hands. After several seconds he ran his fingers through his graying hair and turned to look at the two younger men.

“Now I know why Darius feels so powerless…”

“My Lord?”

Alberon shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t matter. There is work to be done. Our daughters were kidnapped, that means that there was a purpose behind this evil. We shall wait for a message of some sort as to their fate.”

Makros interjected, “what about Marissa?”

“I will station guards around her at all times until this is over. Obviously Mallon will want to do so as well from his own men. They shall be watching over her at all times.”

Makros shook his head. “With all due respect your Majesty, whoever or whatever is doing this represents a powerful enemy, both in terms of magical and physical abilities. I don’t think guards, even ones as courageous and as skilled as ours can protect her.”

“What do you suggest then young Syne?” Asked the King, turning to give Makros his full attention.

“They must locate before they can steal. My family can block any attempts to scry on her and then take my sister to an unknown location.”

Alberon considered the idea for the briefest of moments before shaking his head. “Unacceptable, without your family, the chances of locating the missing girls is almost zero.”

Makros stepped forward, looking the King straight in the eye. “With all due respect sir, you’re asking my family to risk losing one of our own for the chance of finding your daughter.”

Footsteps echoed behind them. “That’s enough Makros,” Lord Syne stated, firmly laying a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Believe what you will, Alberon cares about more than just his own blood. House Syne will protect our own, but not at the cost of Rhyte and Sol. The paramount safety of the three young women is our highest priority.”

Only Darial was in a position to see Makros grind his teeth. He almost interrupted, before his cousin could do or say something stupid. However he was too late.

“Very well my Lords, but I will guard my sister myself.”

“Agreed young Syne, and maybe one day you will realize the necessity that compels me to stand by this position.”

“As you will my Lord, good day.”

Darial bowed hastily to both the King and Lord Syne before hurrying after Makros’ retreating back.

Mallon Syne looked after his son. “He’s a good kid,” he said.

“Smart too,” replied the King. “They will make good rulers one day.”

“If they make it that far,” sighed the dark haired mage. “Things are getting more uncertain with each setting Sun.”

“Truly.”

“How’s Darius?”

Alberon jerked his head towards the door. “He’s waiting for us. Like me, he feels incredibly powerless.”

“No worse than I feel, knowing that I couldn’t protect those two girls.”

The pair opened the door to Lord Sol’s room and walked in. “It’s unlikely that we can protect yours, you know that.”

Mallon nodded sagely. “Whoever they are, they must have a lot of power and much knowledge to have gone for the daughters over the sons.”

Darius interrupted his two friends. “Sit cousins. We must decide on a plan.”

“Indeed, the fate of the Trinited Throne depends on it.”

***

Alberin returned that afternoon empty handed and dejected. “We searched every square inch from here to the hill and beyond. Ditches, alternative routes and even trees. Nothing.”

Darial nodded slowly, his heart like ice in his chest; first his own sister, now Alisa. The amulet his sister had given him, his only real link to her, hung like a frozen stone on his chest. “What should we do?” he asked.

Alberin sighed, “we have no idea who or what took them, for what reason or where. That equates to knowing exactly NOTHING about what’s happening. We have no choice but to wait for some word to come, just like my father said.”

Darial nodded as they began to walk towards Marissa’s quarters. “Do you think they will try to take Marissa?”

“They would be fools to try now, having missed their opportunity while we were unaware, but if they have a specific purpose, they will come.”

Darial nodded again, barely noticing the beautiful flowers that they passed in the various gardens. The world has lost color since his sister had been taken. While he had lived almost 10 years of his life without even having met her, the knowledge that she was safe, sound and waiting to meet him had been sufficient. Now the future was bleak, as he imagined it was to Alberin as well.

“Makros is with his sister. He wants to take her to a different location.”

Alberin smiled. “Smart idea… though we need him”

“So your father pointed out.”

“The other reason is that we need more information. If they attempt to steal Marissa, perhaps we could learn more about our enemies.”

As innocent as he was, Darial was still shocked. “You want to use Marissa as bait?”

Alberin shrugged, “I suppose you could look at it like that. I doubt she wants to go through life always having to worry that people are out there waiting to take her away from his family. It’s bad enough for us and the rest of the population. Grief is an easier emotion to deal with than fear.”

Darial shook his head as he considered what his cousin was saying. “That’s awfully callous and cold my friend, I can’t agree with you.”

The young prince smiled in sardonic amusement. “You will, when you’ve experienced it. You’ve probably never been that afraid in your life.”

The pair of young men slowed as they approached Marissa’s chambers. Outside there were four Knight of the Sun, each with horns, and four Mages from the House of Syne. They bowed to Alberin and Darial before returning to their posts.

Darial opened the door and ushered his cousin in. Makros was inside and he looked up from the board game he was playing with Marissa. “Did you find anything?” he asked as Marissa curtsied to them both.

Alberin didn’t seem to mind the lack of polite conversation and strode in, shrugging off his cloak. “Not a hint. It was as if she walked off herself or vanished into thin air. Can magic DO that?”

Makros thought about it for a moment. “I couldn’t project you from somewhere to where I was, if that’s what you’re asking. Magic comes from a human’s will and imagination, and I doubt Alisa would have suddenly wanted to leave everything behind, especially as Marissa and Jemima were coming.”

Alberin nodded. “What if you were with her and she was unconscious?” he asked, taking a seat.

Makros shook his head, “moving people is one of the hardest of all magic. The will of the person being moved must be strongly in line with the action. Unconscious or not, she would not have wanted to be taken and thus they wouldn’t have been able to transport her.”

Marissa interrupted, “unless they tricked her into wanting to go with them.”

Darial shook his head. “Alisa is the strongest of you three girls, in terms of will anyway. She stubborn and she wanted to see you more than anything. She hadn’t talked about anything else for days.”

Makros nodded. “Then we’re either ruling out magic, or suggesting that there are people many times more powerful than our family, both of which are unlikely.”

“You mean we’re stuck.” Alberin translated as he slumped down.

“You two are awfully calm about this,” observed Marissa, “brother here is slowly going insane, but you both look like this is normal. We don’t even know if they are alive.”

Alberin smiled faintly, “I had my few minutes of screaming my lungs out when I realized I couldn’t find her. I sliced up a few trees too. Darial’s training has simply replaced his heart, he’ll get emotional in a few days… or weeks.”

Darial nodded, his cousin was right.

“So what are you going to do?” Makros wanted to know, turning back to face his game board.

“We’ll move you both, and your guards, to the common room and then stay with you,” Alberin replied as he got up. As Makros opened his mouth, the young prince stopped him with a wave of his hand. “That’s an order Makros Syne. We ALSO have a vested interested in your sister, so don’t be stupid.”

Makros slumped back into his seat. Marissa was grinning widely. She got up to embrace Alberin who fondly returned the hug. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for those five years yet,” he whispered.

“Of course not,” she said, smiling back.

Darial followed his cousin out of the room before closing the door. “The coronation is postponed,” he told Alberin as they walked off towards their own rooms.

“As it should be,” replied Alberin. “I’m going to the yard, I’ll meet you at dinner.”

“As you wish, I shall prepare the common room for Marissa.”

Darial continued the rest of the way to the area of the castle shared by the three cousins. Their chambers were off the same corridor, a hallway that wound around a single round room. It was called the common room, and usually was where the boys met to relax and chat, eat their meals away from the court or even play games. Occasionally it was re-arranged to houseguests of whichever heir was staying in the castle, or guests of all three, and so it had been for generations.

Darial spoke briefly with the servants who maintained their quarters and they scurried off to make the preparations. After that he returned to his room.

The dying rays of the Sun streamed through his west-facing window. It seemed to him a symbol of the world that he knew, a warm and perfect place, a circle with no weakness, no corners. As it slipped into the dark horizon, he began to sense what was coming, a shadow, and the breaking of his perfect world. He shuddered as the air started to turn chill, matching the ice cold amulet on his chest.

Thinking about the ornament, he fished it out from underneath his clothes and let it reflect the last rays of Sunlight. He could remember when his sister had given him the charm, almost like it was yesterday.

***

“You won’t forget me will you?”

Jemima smiled as she rested her head upon his shoulder. “How could I forget my only brother?” she replied. “I will always remember you.”

Darial smiled and pressed his sister’s hand. “You make it sound like blood is all that binds us.”

“A brother is more than a friend, more than family. WE are more than friends or family,” replied Jemima as she rummaged around in her pocket. “Here, something so that YOU will not forget ME.”

Darial turned slowly as his sister sat up. In her hands lay an amulet, small by most standards. It was round and made of gold, a Sun with a blue sapphire, shaped like a shield, in the centre.

“With this, you will always know what I’m feeling. It will warm you when I’m happy, chill you when I’m frightened, but most of all as long as the stone stays blue, I will be thinking of you.”

“A princely gift,” remarked Darial.

“Nothing else for a prince.”

***

Darial could feel the tears on his eyes. The thought of his baby sister being frightened and alone, even with her cousin and mother, tore at his heart. For a moment his emotions threatened to engulf him, but than they were hidden under the blanket of his training once more. It was with that sadness that he arose and went for his meal.