Lèse-majesté

Part 8

Chapter 7

There were screams resounding through the previously packed tavern late one night and the backdoor leading to an office was opened by a man in a brown tunic. "Boss.... The knights...ar- here..." The man uttered before a sword was stabbed through his chest. Blood gurgled from his mouth as he fell to the floor revealing a cloaked figure standing behind him, with a blood-coated sword drawn.

"Hadrian De Lacour I presume or should I just call you The Highway Butcher," The cloaked figure stated as they stepped inside and closed the door, letting the sounds of fighting outside dim. The man behind the desk scowled as the figure approached him without nary a worry.

"It has been a long time since anyone called me that. You did your homework I see," The older graying man growled, clearly unnerved by this strange man. He looked the cloaked figure up and down as the oil lamp cast an eerie glow in the room.

"You were notoriously hard to track down. I'm impressed that a man like you even has such loyal people working under him, given your reputation at least." The smirk that Hadrian could see under the hood caused his eyes to narrow.

"So what do you want now that you found me?" The older man asked, not falling for the goading statement made.

"I have a very lucrative job for you," The man said while pulling down his hood. Hadrian's eyes widened as he realized whom he was face to face with now.

"What exactly do you want from me," Hadrian muttered as his fist clenched.

"Just a bit of highway robbery," The smirk the other man had was predatory as he laid out the details of the commission.

One month later as winter neared, a tightly guarded ornate carriage made its way along the road leading south. There were at least ten knights escorting the carriage. Four were on horseback while the others marched alongside it. The forest they were traversing had long ago lost its leaves and gave off a much eerier feel as the winter months set in.

"Commander Gripton," A voice asked as the Commander, a man close to his mid-fifties, in question galloped with his horse close to the carriage.

"Yes, your Highness?" The knight commander asked.

"How far do you say we still have to travel?" a head of blonde hair poked out of the carriage window as arms rested on the ledge. The boy in question was only a teen.

"It's another two days travel to the Markison estate, my liege." The man answered.

"I don't see why I am the one that has to head out to one of the summer estates. Just because I got into a spat with grandfather." the boy huffed.

"I might not know what the spat was about but your grandfather is an obstinate man sometimes. At times like this it is best to let him cool off." Commander Gripton answered.

"You have known grandfather Sewlin for years now. I always forget that." The young Prince remarked as he looked at the knight.

"Yes, I was your grandmother's personal knight before she was chosen as the royal consort, your highness" The man confessed with a nod.

The conversation dwindled afterwards as they progressed through the forest. Nearly half an hour later the horses neighed violently causing the carriage to lurch and the procession came to a stop with a loud call to arms.

"Prince Grimmel please stay inside!" The knight commander beseeched as he and his men readied their weapons because not so far down the road a fairly well-equipped group of bandits stood blocking their way. The bandits were more numerous than the knights and as every combatant focussed on the upcoming skirmish none took notice of the young Prince's sinister grin.