The Prince's Brides (boyxboy)

2

* Dirk's POV *

Was it one son from every family or every son over seventeen in each family? Or was it even that? There was no way they could fit that many adolescent boys, even at the palace. Was it just my town? It couldn't be the whole kingdom.

If they had just kept the edict to noble families, or even just 'the rich and/or powerful', this would have made a whole lot more sense. But however non-sensical it may be, here I was, by decree, lined up in my finest arraignment, waiting for the royal guard to reach my little hamlet to take away the majority of the able bodies we had to offer.

This had to be a cover for a draft. Building an army in secret before invading some poor hapless kingdom.

No one really knew what was going on. The rumors where running so rabidly rampant that not a one of them made any logical sense. I, of course, had the most logical theory that this was a poorly disguised draft. Not that anyone believed me of course.

"Wouldn't be sending the rich boys then, would they." And since Marchum Tanner had said it, it must be so.

Bloody fools.

We all shifted nervously as we watched a commander and his soldiers make their way out of the small in and attached stables, where many of them had been forced to sleep the night. In full regalia, they contrasted greatly with the small horde of boys they'd already gathered from towns west of here on their way back to the capital.

"We love you, Jakey!" My little sisters and brother hugged me tight. I gave them each a kiss on the forehead before handing them off to Claire, the innkeepers wife in the larger town the next hamlet over. I prayed their lives as inn-hands wouldn't be too taxing on them. They were all so young. But it was the only thing I could think to do with them before I could make my way back to them.

I got in line, my hopes rising as I saw some men being turned away, sent home. I was a poor, uneducated worker, if they were looking for something special, useful, perhaps I would get to go home soon. Getting closer and closer my heart dropped as I realized Mr. Graity, the town's equivalent of an engineer was making his way back home. If they were looking for skilled personal, Connor Graity would definitely have had a front bench seat out of here.

Closer and closer to the officer and his men, I began to notice a pattern. My brow furled in confusion, this pattern making no sense what-so-ever to me. Ok, I could understand sending away anyone crippled or sickly, that made sense no matter what they were gathering men for. So did keeping the age range between seventeen and late twenties. But then they seemed to be sending away others for no discernible reason, other than perhaps that they were less than esthetically pleasing to look upon.

"Dirk Amison?" The officer raised his eyebrow at me, understanding my surname meant nothing more than 'Amy's son'.

My siblings had proper last names, our father's name, but our mother had come to him pregnant with me. Of rape or brothel trade or an enclandestine tryst she never told me. Leaving only the derisive criticism of strangers, whose curiosity I, myself, could not assuage.

"That's me," I bowed my head in a brief nod before meeting his eyes.

For a moment, I think, perhaps, he stopped breathing, considering me strangely.

"Oh, you are most definitely coming with us," he said, almost excitedly.

"Bu-" I cut off my own protest at the way the guards to either side of us shifted. The body language was loud and clear, and threatening.

Within another two hours they had finished sorting the eligible bachelors and rolled out of town with the best of us carted behind them in one of their wagons.

It was dull business, waiting. Even getting further and further from home than I'd ever been before, eventually one grew sick of the never ending farmland view. We traded stories, and sang, and made up stories. But even that was put on hold every time we got into a new town and the sorting began all over again. After our wagon was full, and the new recruits, and therefore most interesting people to ride with, were loaded in the next wagon. Our wagon was sent ahead, with an escort, straight to the capital.

The second day with our deminished escort we passed a warning, in the form of a mass grave. Edward something-or-another read the warning sign for us, the guards made point to stop and let him.

The men must have panicked. Reasonably assuming they'd been rounded up for nefarious purposes. They'd made a break for it. They'd been hunted down and slaughtered, to a man. The bodies were bloated, carrion eaton. Left unbarried, unmoarned, specifically to serve as a warning...to us. And those who would follow after us, and many who had come before.