Castle of Cards

Prologue

His father would never have allowed this to happen. Aurelianus closed his eyes and hung his head in sorrow. He could hear the clanking of swords, combined with the yowls of the dying in the distance as his forces gave a new fight to a battle already lost. The cobblestone beneath his feet was slick with the innards of the dead, men he'd known his entire life littering the ground in front of him. The smoke lingered so thick in the air he was forced to squint, fighting against the river now leaking from his eyes, as the particles irritated them. It worked to his advantage, as the haze hung low over the courtyard, providing additional cover in the shadows. He squinted against the bright rupture scarring the starless sky, as Kilgharrah and Drocoli did their work. He might have felt sorry for Vortigern's forces still outside the citadel, and those retreating from Benoic towards the mighty castle he now crouched beside. But he didn't. Looking at the scene in front of him now, he knew he never would. He was too late. Camelot had fallen.

He watched silently hidden in the shadows as what remained of his younger brother's army were corralled in the courtyard, forced to bear witness to their King's sightless eyes placed upon the stake. If he had arrived minutes earlier perhaps he could have saved them, but he hadn't. Fighting nausea Aurelianus looked away as they yanked the lifeless body of his nephew, Warrick, from the platform and tossed it on the ground next to his mother's.

Get to the boys. He forced himself to move, the thought propelling him forward with a new urgency he inched along the wall silently through the shadows till he came to the heavily guarded barracks. He quietly cast the spell that sent six of Vortigern's men to their slumber before slipping into the makeshift prison they'd been guarding. He held his breath, hopeful the young princes had not yet joined their parents and older brother in death. He was well aware they were next, considering where they were held and the display outside. He knew he only had a few moments before Vortigern would send for them. He had been counting on the warlord keeping the boys separate from their parents and brother. There was no question the tyrant would kill them; his rule would never be considered legitimate, by the people or other kingdoms, as long as a Pendragon heir still had breath in their lungs, but it was very unlikely he'd make a spectacle of it. Their parents and older brother were one thing, as a show of power, but the public execution of the young princes, both practically still babes, was more likely to cause revolt than the subjugation of the people.

Aurelianus inched around the corner and sighed with relief to find the filthy and terrified children huddled in the corner.

"Uther," Aurelianus whispered, catching the eldest of the boy's attention, he quickly put his finger to his mouth to indicate the child should not make any noise, as the child's eyes widened in relief and recognition.

He'd been terrified the boy would yell out. Instead, he nodded and waited, casting his eyes to the left to inform him of guards in the room. Aurelianus nodded at the boy and let his eyes wander to the youngest, Constans, who had his head buried his older brothers stomach quietly crying. Aurelianus shook with relief seeing his nephews, in what appeared to be good health and uninjured. A third child stood behind both boys, and he recognized him immediately as Ban Inwudu. Aurelianus had almost forgotten the young prince of Benoic was being fostered for the summer in Camelot. Considering the carnage that occurred in the child's own kingdom this night, he was thrilled to see Ban alive, he had, until now, assumed Bors heir dead.

He motioned for the boys to come to him, after dropping four more guards with a spell.

"All of you be silent, do not look around and do not fall behind, do you understand?" He whispered to the frightened children.

"Uther, you take charge of your brother and Ban, do not let them fall behind."

Tear tracks lining the nine-year-olds soot covered face; Uther nodded his understanding, as he took the boys hands in his own.