Shadow of Dusk

The Prince and His Guard

Tristen and Daniel headed into the city of Fordra in the early morning. Tristen tucked the letter into his pocket as their horses trudged through the misty dawn. They passed farms that held color as green as any in Veredore, and the next moment were trudging along a dusty road that looked as if it had never been seeped by water. Tristen knew that Teardor was the least desirable of all of Endoria, tucked behind the Alte Mountains and watered with salt lakes. But the humans of Teardor had bled and sweat the ground fertile, and had raised a city out of the desert, one as beautiful and grand as any veredian city.

The ride did not take long, and they entered that great city, where the homes were made of thick brick and grey granite, and the citadel was made of fine white marble. In Tristen’s opinion, it was a little overdone, though he couldn’t help but be impressed, even if he preferred the quiet of Veredore’s soft, natural beauty. Yet there was beauty in the city, human beauty, made from their own bodies mixed with the earth. He knew that his appreciation for it wasn’t just because he was human, too—it really was a beautiful place.

They put their horses in the citadel’s huge stable, where the royal horses eyed Tristen’s half-unicorn warily, much like humans did when they encountered a veredian or liaman who they did not know well. The horses could smell the difference of bloodlines. They pawed the ground nervously, sending the dust into the air, which glittered in the rays of the sun that streamed onto the floor.

“That a unicorn?” asked the one of the stable boys.

Only horses and unicorns themselves could smell the blood difference, but the boy was eyeing the sparkling golden hooves of Tristen’s horse. His eyes raked to the horse’s forehead, but saw the absence of a horn and looked questioningly at Tristen. Most humans didn’t believe in unicorns, but this boy looked eager and excited—as if a fairy tale were coming alive.

“Partly,” replied Tristen, patting his horse on the nose. “Only full unicorns inherit the horn.”

The boy’s eyebrows lowered and he grinned.

“Wow,” he said. He couldn’t have been more than ten.

“You can pet him if you’d like,” said Tristen, and grinned as the boy scurried to his feet and patted the part-unicorn in the same fashion that Tristen had.

The boy pointed them in the direction of the main entrance of the citadel, so they walked up the grand marble stairs and were admitted inside the main entrance.

The two guards who allowed visitors beyond the large foyer eyed them closely. The fatter, shorter one asked roughly, “What do you need?”

            “I have a sealed letter from Queen Roselin,” said Tristen, pulling the letter from his pocket, allowing the guard to see the seal. “For King William,” he added unnecessarily.

            “King William is unavailable,” said the guard. “I’ll give him the letter.”

            “No,” said Tristen. “Thank you, but I have explicit instructions from my queen to give this letter straight to the king.”

            “As I said,” replied the guard testily, “He is unavailable. I will—”

            “What about Prince Liam?” interrupted Daniel.

            The guard sighed. Daniel and Tristen exchanged glances, both finding the guard’s want of denying them conversation with the royals a bit annoying.

            “Who are you?” the guard asked.

            “My name is Daniel. I am a citizen of Teardor and Tristen here is a soldier and royal messenger of Queen Roselin of Veredore. I have escorted Tristen here.”