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Chapter I: The Boy and the Prince

  13 years ago

  The sound of two wooden swords clashing into each other rang in the two boys' ears as they fought. The red-haired boy did his best to keep up when the prince pressed the attack. The prince smiled, knowing that his victory was near. They were fighting on their favourite hill, this was the place they went to when they wanted to be alone. From here, the whole capital could be seen. It was always crowded in the town, and the guards were always watching their every move. It was nice to get away as often as possible.

  The red-haired boy screamed when the prince struck his hand with the wooden sword. The boy dropped his weapon and started to caress his wrist where he had been hit.

  “Why did you have to hit so hard, Ilmur? That hurt. Thanks a lot!” snapped the red-haired boy.

  Ilmur laughed. “Not my fault your defence is so bad. If this was a real war, you would have died several times over!” Suddenly, Ilmur looked concerned. “Does it really hurt that much, Gandon?”

  “Yes,” said Gandon. He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll get you tomorrow, Ilmur.”

  “Haven’t I heard that one before?”

  “Tomorrow will be different.” Gandon tried to compose himself, ignoring the pain, even though it hurt.

  Ilmur whirled around with his sword, looking cocky. “Didn’t you say the same thing yesterday and the day before that?”

  Gandon didn’t want to play with their swords any longer. “This is stupid. Let’s do something else.”

  Ilmur sighed. “I wish Saran could be with us, but he is always so busy. Being the crown prince can’t be easy.”

  Gandon couldn’t relate. Even though he lived with princes, he wasn’t one himself. No one had hidden that fact from him. Never more than an esteemed guest, even though he tried his best to please Father. Saran had apparently been really good in the classroom, but Geor, their tutor, was really impressed with Gandon as well. He even hinted at times that Gandon had been superior. That made his chest swell with pride. And Ilmur was, well, Ilmur…

  Suddenly, Gandon pushed Ilmur so he fell to the ground. “I’ll race you to the keep! The last one there will have to do Geor’s assignments for a month!” He started to run with all his might.

  “Hey, no fair!” screamed Ilmur behind him.

  Even though Gandon had cheated to gain an advantage, it wasn’t long before Ilmur was right behind him.

  “If you only could read as fast as you run, stupid!” shouted Gandon, but that only made Ilmur increase his speed.

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  “Let’s see who’s dumb when I wrestle your face into the mud!” screamed his pursuer.

  Uh oh. It really sounded like Ilmur could be serious this time. Had he gone too far?

  They raced through the city, and people greeted them with words of encouragement and waves. Gandon and Ilmur were somewhat of a spectacle in the city.

  Everharn was said to be the grandest city in all of the north, and Gandon couldn’t imagine a bigger one. The walls were large, with a slightly blue hue to them. They were made by the dwarves from Narda. Their mountain wasn’t far from here, and you could often see dwarves walking in the town square. There were no better smiths than the dwarves, so the rich always hired them when they could afford it. The banner with the two towers could be seen swaying in the wind on all of the official buildings, House Avar’s symbol, the royal house sigil. Ilmur’s sigil, but not Gandon’s.

  Suddenly, he could hear three guards shouting. It was the guards they had given the slip earlier when they wanted to be alone at their hiding place. The city was built on a hill, so to get to the keep, you had to run upwards. The probability of escaping the guards was not good.

  “Run, Ilmur!”

  “You always get me in trouble!”

  “And you never learn!”

  When they came up the hill, they could see their mother with the ladies of the court. They went behind their mother’s skirt for protection. Mother didn’t even raise an eyebrow, she was used to situations like these.

  The soldiers stopped in front of the queen.

  “Something amiss?” asked the queen.

  The soldiers’ faces grew red. Were they going to admit that Gandon and Ilmur had given them the slip earlier?

  “No, Your Grace,” said the captain, looking away.

  “It’s good that you drill your soldiers hard. The king needs his men to be in the best shape possible. I’m not a soldier, Captain, but don’t you have yards for running?”

  The captain bowed deeply. “My apologies, my queen.”

  “Good day, Captain.”

  The soldiers went on their way, eager to escape punishment.

  Ilmur breathed out in relief. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Mother shook her head. “Whatever shall I do with you two? I saved you this time from the captain’s wrath, but don’t expect me to always be this generous.”

  Gandon looked down, unable to meet Mother’s gaze.

  “Gandon’s ideas always put us in trouble!”

  “And you always encourage him, feeling excited by the thrill before the jig is up.” She looked at them both intently. “My sweet sons. Never fight among each other if you can avoid it. There are many dangers in this world; you don’t need to add another to the list.”

  “Mother, we have been working hard all day. We just wanted to be alone for a little while. Geor said we could stop a bit earlier today,” pointed out Gandon.

  “He might have said that about you, but Ilmur could have needed more time with his studies. It’s not your task to distract him, Gandon.”

  “No, Mother.”

  During dinner, Gandon could feel the king’s disapproving eyes. He didn’t think that Mother had said anything to the king, but someone must have. The king was usually kind to all of them, but Gandon felt that when they did something wrong, he got punished harder than the rest.

  Gandon once again sat at the table with his red hair surrounded by a sea of brown and black. It was impossible not to spot him, and he often hated the fact that his hair was different. The king didn’t punish him that night, which was always something.

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