The Warlord's Prince

Chapter Two

The whole of the palace had gone tense as the servants scrambled to ready every spare room they had. Many hadn't been used in years. However Haskar made good on his word as the ten men who had been in the wagons came out with fine jewelry of white-gold, laden with precious gems.

Haskar stood before the throne, the King settled with his sons at his side. The Warlord took one of the pieces from his men, a fine circlet with three rubies at the front, and approached King Ronald, offering out the piece, "For the King of this land, your crown from us. The simple design shows your authority as a leader, but keeps you humble. The rubies represent the blood of your enemies that you carry with you always."

King Ronald stood slowly and reached out to accept the gift, taking it and resting atop his balding head. "It is an honor," he said flatly, though the Warlord's mirth did not waver.

Haskar returned for another piece, this one a scepter as long as a man's arm with topaz settled along the bulbous head. The gold was patterned with intricate carvings, though Shane couldn't see what they were exactly. "For the eldest son...a scepter. You took command and thought logically. This item is reserved for the War Leaders who show intelligence and thoughtfulness."

Prince Ronald took the item and dipped his head in a bow, "Thank you. It is an honor," he was at least more respectful than his father, and Haskar seemed to take note of this. His eyes were sharp and perceptive, always moving to catch the world around him.

Haskar then turned and glanced at Shane before stepping past him to Eric, "Tell me, young Prince... How many of my men are carrying weapons."

"All of them," Eric said simply, his eyes flickering to the men behind the Warlord before going back to him, "All warriors of the south are equipped with weapons strapped to their inner thighs, to be carried at all times even in sleep." He paused a moment to consider, "Not to mention all warriors are as well-trained in hand-to-hand combat as they are with their weapons."

This made the behemoth of a man take on a look of pride at the youngest Prince, "Excellent. I see your eyes, little one. You were silent, but took us in the moment you saw us. You analyze, you search, you think," Haskar turned and walked back to his men, to the only one carrying something wrapped in loose cloth. This was unfolded to reveal a very old and worn looking book that was picked up with care and taken back to Eric, "This book, the Anc'rin, is sacred to our people. Written by the first Warlord, it contains our values and beliefs. I would only give it to one who will respect this knowledge."

Eric's eyes went wide with shock and awe as he held his hands out, taking the book as if it would crumble to dust if he so much as breathed on it.

"Your silence shows me your joy," Haskar mused with a wide grin.

Eric looked up, shocked, before he regathered his wits and closed his hanging jaw, "This gift will be cherished, thank you!"

"I believe it, little one," the Warlord nodded and finally turned back to his men, walking to one in particular and taking the final piece.

Haskar took up a short necklace, the polished silver set in heavy oblong plates. Each plate donned a symbol like the one painted on the caravan they had approached in, and had a different gem set at the top and bottom. As the Warlord approached with the necklace, Shane took in what details he could before turning his eyes up to the man. When gestured to do so, Shane lifted his chin and hesitantly bared his throat.

"This necklace is a personal gift. It dons the symbol of every War Tribe under my command, and the color of their banner. Mine is in the center," he reached out and the cool metal pressed against the Prince's throat, making him shiver lightly while the Warlord hooked the clasp and ran his fingers over the various symbols, "Wear this with pride for having shown me your fire, even in the face of possible violence. I see something in your eyes..."