|[ THE FAERI'S KEEPER ]|

Chapter 18: Death of a King

Two days earlier...

Cedric waited impatiently by the gate. The Thalandorian soldiers eyed him suspiciously. He ignored them — should they decide to approach him, he would deal with them. His horse whinnied, pawing the ground. Saddlebags with food were lashed to the back of the saddle, as well as the bag of armour. He began pacing again; where was Irene? Surely she had been taken back to her room? Found some way to sneak out... his worry ate away at him. Something was wrong; he knew Irene could take care of herself, but he couldn't help his fear.

His pacing seemed to unnerve the soldiers. One approached him, hand tightly gripping his sword.

"Excuse me," he said sternly, "But if you have no further business within Thalandor tonight, I advise you move on." Cedric eyed him closely. In the dark night, the man's features could only be distinguished by the light of the torch he held. A long thin nose and prominent cheeks. Dark hair, dark eyes. He looked barely out of his teen years.

"Do not worry, friend," Cedric said with false cheer, "I have further business. I await a companion. Then I shall be gone." The soldier's suspicion grew deeper.

"Who is this companion, might I ask?" he questioned as the second soldier wandered over, half drawing his sword. Cedric's pulse quickened and he wished he felt the hilt of his sword rest against his thigh. Should these soldiers try to pick a fight, they would soon realise it was poorly matched.

"The princess, actually." Cedric said with a sly grin, "She plans to run away with me, you see." Both of their swords were fully drawn within the blink of an eye.

"The princess is with her uncle, and shall remain there." the first soldier said sharply, "Now leave. Before I am forced to deal with you." Cedric heard a slight shake to his voice. No doubt this was one of his first nights on watch. His older, more experienced partner took the lead.

"Leave. Now. Or I'll knock you down so 'ard you'll think the princess actually ran away with ya." Cedric's grin widened into a full-blown smile.

"I'd like to see you try."

Had Cedric been human, the soldier's fist would have connected with his temple and knocked him dead in the next second. But with the same speed and agility as his opponent, he easily blocked the punch and delivered a blow of his own to his enemy's torso. The man quickly brought his hands up to guard his ribs.

"Boy," he hissed to the younger soldier, "Send word to the boys. We've got a new toy to play with." The boy nodded before hurrying off into the night. As he left the torchlight faded and Cedric was left staring at his opponent in darkness. Before the man could so much as blink, he had slipped his hand to his belt and retrieved his knife.

"So sorry," Cedric said without a hint of remorse, and slashed out. The man attempted to step back out of range but the shadows hid uneven ground and he slipped. As he fell he reached out, losing two of his fingers to Cedric's sharp blade. He let out a strangled cry which quickly cut off when Cedric kicked him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

There was a whisper from the darkness behind him and he turned, brandishing the knife.

"Who goes there?" Cedric hissed, eyes trying to scan through the shadows. He thought he saw a hint of movement, but couldn't be sure. With chills creeping down his spine, Cedric hurried to his horse and began climbing into the saddle — whatever it might be, he would rather face it from the back of his steed.

His horse pawed the ground nervously, tossing its head. Something was spooking it, but he couldn't be sure what. He glanced once more up at the castle — Irene still hadn't appeared; was she even coming? He was torn between waiting until dawn, and leaving before that soldier returned with more guards. He had told Irene he would wait... but what was the point if she wasn't coming?