Artemis and Caspian: The Spy

Chapter Eight

Lady Kendra saw the hoard of soldiers massing on Calatan's field, led by the traitor Lord himself. She twirled the ax in her hand, itching to drive it into his chest. Lord Terrowin beside her on a horse shifted nervously in his saddle. This made no sense to him, if the Lord was leading his army, where was the King? Before he could think anything else, Lady Kendra lifted her ax in the air, signaling the massive army behind her to be at the ready. The Lady tracked the Lord in her mind, five hundred paces, four hundred, three, two, one.

"Now!" she screamed pointing her ax forward. Thousands of ragtag soldiers wielding weapons of all kinds sprinted forward and collided with the Guilamontian army, determined to fight for their lives. Lady Kendra threw herself into the fray, taking down two warriors with one swing of her massive ax. Others followed her example, hurling themselves onto bigger and more capable opponents, using all of their strength to push enemies back as they resisted tyranny. Blood, spilled from fresh wounds stained the yellow grass below their feet, marking the start of a ruthless war to come. It wasn't long before bodies began to hit the floor, too many proudly bearing Calatan's mighty crest. In the chaos, Lord Terrowin wildly scanned the battlefield searching for his King, but King Tristian was nowhere to be found. Rearing his horse he ducked out of the fighting undetected and scanned the horizon for anything odd. In the distance, a rouge tent stood flapping in the wind. It looked out of place to Terrowin. Why would Cerberus leave it abandoned? Intrigued, the Lord dismounted and crept towards it, an impending sense of dread pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He made sure to duck into the treeline marking the border of the battlefield, weaving through branches as he tried to stay out of sight. Crouching low, he craned his neck to get a better look at the lone tent. All he could see was heavy cloth sitting on earth. There were no signs of movement, no signs of foul play, frankly no sign of anything that would cause suspicion but the Lord kept going. His gut instinct wouldn't leave him alone, there was something eerie about it standing there deserted in the empty space that he didn't trust. The Lord took one final look over his shoulder at the unfolding blood bath before creeping out of his shelter. He dusted himself off before slowly walking over, dread nipping at his insides. Only the gods knew what kind of horrors awaited him.

The tent stood in an unnerving silence, waving with the breeze over the loud screams of men and women in the far distance. Lord Terrowin held his breath, bracing himself for the worst and went to nudge the flap of the tent open when a man, nearly dead was able to pull himself out into the open. He could sense the moon goddess hovering over him but pushed on, determined to serve his King until he couldn't anymore. Seeing his opportunity, the man grabbed the Lord's ankle. Lord Terrowin yelled and whipped around, unsheathing a sword and laying it against the man's bare neck. He let go, revealing his Meridian crest and the Lord dropped his weapon.

"Please," the man begged, speaking through heavy breaths. "Hear me. I was the King's guardsman. Lord Cerberus attacked him, stabbed him in the heart. Me and my comrade tried to protect him but we were too late. They lie dead in that tent."

Feeling his life slipping away, the man in desperation reached for Lord Terrowin's low hanging tunic sticking out beneath his armor.

"Go to the Prince, tell him the news, please, go," the man pleaded with his final breaths, "Go, go..." he trailed off, finally succumbing to his wounds. The Lord looked up frightened at the battle surrounding them. The guardsmen lay dead at his feet, bodies of others lay just a few meters away on the outskirts of the battlefield. When he couldn't see any enemy stragglers he grabbed a nearby Calatinian soldier way in over his head, barely older than a boy, who was cowardly backing away from the thick of the fray.

"Go to Meridan, the King is dead. Inform the Prince," he said hastily as the boy's eyes grew wide.

"My Lord, the king is.."