Reign of Resurgence: The Advantage (Kingdom of Destiny Book 1) Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

  “Tristan,” Ryder called.

  Tristan didn’t answer. He stood in the middle of the meadow from which he had mysteriously appeared, staring absently into the distance but seeing nothing before him as the dawn’s light began to fill the sky. He had been with Ryder and his father for three days.

  He still had no answers. Nor any memory of how he’d come to be in the kingdom of Barico. He’d been to the meadow countless times trying to find the medallion he remembered. He’d scoured the entire field. There was no medallion.

  “Tristan,” Ryder placed a hand on his shoulder from behind, snapping him out of his daze.

  “Sorry,” Tristan apologized. “I was…just thinking.”

  Ryder gave him a small smile. “I give you my apologies for disturbing you, but I thought you might like to accompany us.”

  Tristan frowned. “Where are you going?”

  Ryder pointed to the castle atop the mountain. “The city of Lochlain. You are a great help to us. We have finished the planting a day early. Tomorrow is the Spring Festival. It will be a grand celebration. We ride in a day early to gather a few things at the market. Perhaps it will be of help to you to travel with us.”

  Neither had shared Tristan’s mysterious appearance with Ryder’s father nor his search for the absent medallion. They had agreed upon a story of amnesia to battle his father’s suspicion of Tristan. Though Tristan’s different clothes and speech were clearly not Baricoan, the questions had been left unasked.

  “My father says that we all have our place and our destiny, Tristan,” Ryder told him. “You may have fallen in this meadow, but I do not believe your destiny lies here. The only way to find the answers you seek…is to seek them.”

  He gestured to the castle again. “You have to start somewhere, my friend. Why not Lochlain?”

  Tristan slowly nodded. “You’re right. I can’t stay here forever. I have to find out how to get home.”

  • • •

  They took a wagon so they could cart back their supplies. Tristan rode on a seat in the back behind Ryder and his father. He shifted on the hard, wooden seat. “Wood is hard and very uncomfortable, you know. Maybe you should try some hay.”

  Ryder gave him an indulgent grin over his shoulder. “Wherever you come from, you must be of a high station. So finicky.”

  “Where I come from is…very different from here,” Tristan answered. “I suppose I am spoiled.” His breath caught as they curved around the cleared road leading up and caught sight of the castle in all its glory. “Whoa.”

  “It is a grand sight,” Ryder agreed.

  An inclining, curved stone road hugged the edge of the summit and led the way inside the walls. The outer protective wall had two gates, one wide and one narrow. They passed through one, then the other in a single file line. The main gate was a massive archway Tristan guessed to be at least twenty feet high.

  The gate was guarded on either side by octagonal towers that were even higher than the wall. They were manned by armed guards. Tristan eyed them with fascination and awe.

  Gold breastplates covered their chests and were topped with oval, gold shoulder armor. They wore skirts of royal blue that came down to their knees. Their forearms and shins were covered with gold armor bands.

  At their waist were sheathed long, wicked looking swords. A spear and gold shield were strapped to each of their backs. Gold helmets adorned their heads with royal blue capes flapping in the wind under their shields.

  A few stood like statued sentries, waiting for their order to move, while others paced the walls with sharp eyes. Tristan hoped he never found himself at the end of one of those swords. Or spears. He kept them in his view as long as he could.

  Seeing Tristan’s silent assessment of the guards, Ryder nudged his arm. “Calm, my friend. They are here to protect us. Barico has known peace for many years now.”

  Tristan gave a single nod of acknowledgement. “Good to know.” He faced forward again but rubbed his hands together anxiously.

  Past the intimidating defenses, the city stretched and rose to an inner wall that protected the castle. The castle rose in majestic pride. It sat atop the mountain righteously. Tristan got an up close and personal look at the towers and turrets.

  The flag he’d seen flying in the wind from the valley was now clear. It was a royal blue flag with a gold symbol in its center. Because of its rapid movement, he was unable to clearly make out the symbol.

  “So this king…is he a good king?” he asked quietly.

  Ryder smiled. “A very good king. With his rule, our land has prospered. And as I said, we have known peace for many years.”

  “Right,” Tristan muttered. “Good. That’s good.”

  Inside the outer wall but not the inner one that surrounded the castle, they came to a stop. At the scene before him, Tristan found himself more curious than fearful. The area was a bustle of activity. Ryder and his father ventured off to make their trades and left Tristan near the wagon.

  But curiosity got the better of him. He made his way down what Ryder had called Merchant Row in awe. All kinds of goods lined the tables and booths. Jewelry and trinkets, meats and vegetables, carvings and clothing. Vendors called enticingly to those passing by.

  He was admiring a wooden carving when a commotion behind him snagged his attention. He turned to see what the fuss was about and spotted two women elegantly attired and moving slowly down the line. The merchants and vendors circled excitedly, without crowding, he noticed.

  His eyes followed the younger beauty. Her companion was older but still gracefully breathtaking. He noted the resemblance almost instantly. It had to be her mother.

  The daughter wore a sleeveless, deep purple dress. A golden sash was draped over one shoulder and around her waist. Part of her long, caramel colored hair had been braided around the top of her head like a crown. The rest cascaded down her back.

  “You like?” the vendor popped up in front of him.

  “Uh?” His eyes darted back to the woman who was making her way slowly down Merchant Row toward him. Oh yeah, he thought.

  “The carving,” the vendor clarified. “You like. You buy, yes?”

  Tristan glanced down at the wooden carving still in his hand. “Uh…oh. No.” He tried a small smile as he replaced it. “I mean, yes, I like it. But I can’t buy it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have handled it. It’s a beautiful piece.”

  The vendor waved his hand in dismissal with a disappointed grunt. Tristan tried to snag his attention once more but had no success as he was abandoned with impressive speed. A young girl stepped up beside him at the stand.

  “Excuse me,” he addressed her. “But those women coming toward us. Who are they?”

  The girl looked startled by the question. She glanced at the women, then back to him. “The queen and the princess.”

  “Of course,” he tried an easy smile. “Sorry, I knew that. I was just testing you.” When she left him with one last wary look, his eyes were drawn again to the beautiful princess. A princess. But of course, he silently repeated.

  She laughed at something that was said. As she drew nearer, he was able to hear the musical note of it. Then she bent down to address a small child. A very young little boy. A smile touched her lips at whatever he told her. She ran a slender hand over his hair. A golden bracelet jingled on her wrist.

  The boy reached up and gripped her fingers in his pudgy little hand. His mother quickly scooted in and lifted him off the ground before he tried to climb into the princess’s arms. The princess merely laughed again.

  The queen reached out and tapped the little boy’s nose playfully with a smile of her own. Tristan knew he was outright staring but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Not even when she passed by him and her soft, forest green eyes flicked to his momentarily. The corner of her mouth curved ever so slightly before her eyes returned to her mother.

  The breath he’d been holding whooshed out. “Whoa,” he whispered. “Of course…what
self-respecting kingdom would be without a beautiful princess.”

  Two guards passed by him as they followed the women. They allowed the people access to the royals but kept a watchful eye. The one closest to him spared him a glance as he passed. Tristan gave a harmless smile and an acknowledging nod.

  He was about to turn away to find Ryder when another man in the crowd caught his attention. He was watching the retreating back of the queen and the princess. But not with awe. His gaze was hard and disdainful. He wore a cloak with a hood covering his head and half of his face.

  Tristan frowned as the man slowly followed at the back edge of the crowd. All movement halted when something caught the queen’s attention. Something at one of the stands. One of the guards moved to the front of the crowd.

  The other guard’s attention was caught by a female vendor. He gave her a friendly smile as he stepped toward her. The cloaked man slithered slowly through the crowd, his hand concealed underneath the garment that covered him.

  Tristan moved around to try to get a better look as he watched it all unfold. All he could think was that the man’s intentions couldn’t be good. He had one of those faces, what little Tristan could see of it.

  As Tristan moved around, he came to the edge of the crowd. He moved through them, easing forward carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, just as the man did from his angle. He broke through and found himself facing the princess’s back.

  She turned as he broke through and stared into his surprised, crystal blue eyes. Her lips didn’t curve this time, but her eyes didn’t break from his either. His, however, darted to the man to her left. The sun glinted off of something in his hand. The man was directly behind the queen.

  A knife, Tristan realized. He moved before the action fully registered in his brain. “No!” He barreled past both the princess and the queen and caught the man in a full body tackle. His momentum threw them both crashing into the adjacent vendor stand.

  He felt the blade slice into skin but barely registered the pain. His adrenaline had spiked, covering the sharp sting. As they flipped over along with the vendor cart, the knife went flying from the man’s hand. A collective gasp sounded from the crowd before near pandemonium broke out.

  Children were snatched up and whisked away. The women were almost instantly shielded by the guards. And Tristan found himself staring into fury filled eyes.

  “Oh dear Lord,” he mumbled as he pushed off the man. The man rolled to his knees as Tristan scrambled for cover. Tristan was on his hands and knees when the blade tip came to his throat. His eyes traveled up to the guard who now held his life at the end of his sword.

  “Not guilty,” he squeaked and swallowed hard. As he did, he felt the blade press against his Adam’s apple.

  The guard bent and grasped Tristan’s shirt in his fist. He lifted him to his feet without any assistance from Tristan. His feet only touched the ground for a moment before the very angry guard adjusted his grip to his throat and lifted him off his feet.

  “This man saved our lives,” the queen quickly protested. “Release him at once.”

  “Yes, please,” Tristan managed from his constricted airway.

  The guard glanced at his queen, then back at Tristan. He released him, letting Tristan fall suddenly to the ground from his lifted perch. He wasn’t expecting the quick release and fell back rather than on his feet. He sucked in fresh air, then coughed it out.

  When he finally looked up, he saw the second guard had his foot on the throat of the assailant with his sword ready to strike at the slightest movement. Tristan scrambled to his feet as the queen stepped toward him.

  “Are you all right?” she asked with concern. “I apologize for my guard’s rough treatment.”

  Another spasm of coughing shook him, but he managed a hand that waved the treatment away. “No problem,” he croaked.

  Ryder suddenly broke through the crowd. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. “Tristan?”

  Tristan braced a hand on the nearest vendor stand as he tried to catch his breath. “You said this place was peaceful,” he shot at Ryder.

  • • •

  The queen and princess were quickly ushered back into the safety of the inner wall. One guard dragged the assailant while the other urged Tristan forward with a growl. Tristan reached for Ryder with a plea for help. But it was strongly suggested that Ryder and his father stay back, leaving Tristan on his own.

  “Do as they say, Tristan,” Ryder called after him. “All will be well.”

  Tristan was forcefully guided into the inner gates after the women. The guard pushed him forward when he halted to stare up at the main entrance of the castle. He stumbled up the six steps to the door.

  Through another set of doors, the room opened into a great hall of some sort. The guard pulled him up short with a restraining hand on his shoulder. The hall filled with guards as word spread of the attempt on the queen’s life.

  Another guard pushed the assailant forward so that he stood beside Tristan with his hands bound in front of him. His head turned so that he stared at Tristan. A growl sounded from his throat.

  Tristan’s eyes widened as he tried to step back. He bumped into the guard and was promptly pushed forward again and held steady. A man entered the hall suddenly and rushed for the queen and princess. He embraced them both simultaneously.

  He wore a royal blue robe with a gold sash draped over one shoulder and wrapped around his waist the same as the princess. A crown stood majestically atop his head. Tristan assumed this could only be the king. A hushed conversation took place between the man and his family.

  Before the conversation was over, another man, this one younger, near the same age as Tristan, appeared with a girl in her mid-teens behind him. They both rushed forward with concern. The girl ran immediately to the queen and embraced her.

  The young man zeroed in on the assailant. He strode forward until he was nose to nose with the assailant. “Who hired you?” he barked.

  When he got no answer, he moved to Tristan. Tristan’s head slid back as far as his neck would allow. “Who are you?” was the young man’s hard question.

  “Tristan.”

  “Why aren’t you bound?” The young man wanted to know.

  The queen ushered the girl to the princess before stepping forward. “If it weren’t for Tristan, I would be dead and quite possibly your sister as well. We are greatly indebted to this man, and you will treat him as such.”

  The young man backed off immediately. He glanced at his mother, then back at Tristan. He stepped back even further at the king’s insistence. The king took his position directly in front of Tristan. He addressed the guard holding the assailant. “Take him away. Find out what he knows…by any means necessary.”

  When he turned to address Tristan, his eyes softened from his hard anger, and his frown smoothed slightly. His eyes scanned Tristan from head to toe, pausing on his jeans and tennis shoes. They finally lifted to Tristan’s again.

  “You saved the lives of my wife and daughter,” the king stated. “My wife is correct when she says I am greatly indebted to you.” He paused and looked to the queen.

  Tristan’s eyes traveled past the king as well, but his locked on the princess. She was watching him with an expression he couldn’t interpret. When the king turned back to him, Tristan’s eyes snapped back.

  “You are not Baricoan. What land do you hail from?” the king asked.

  “A land very far away from here,” Tristan answered cryptically.

  The king’s eyes narrowed. “What is this land called?”

  “America.”

  “Is this land in the North?”

  Tristan weakly shook his head. “No…your majesty.”

  “Is it in Jaguria?”

  Tristan frowned. Ryder hadn’t mentioned a Jaguria. “No, sir.” He licked his lips. “To be perfectly honest with you…your majesty, I’m unfamiliar with your lands. I’ve found myself here quite mysteriously. I have no memory of how
I came to be here.”

  The king’s arms clasped behind his back as he stared at Tristan. “You don’t know how you came to be here?”

  “Uh…” Tristan glanced at a guard when he stepped to the king’s side. “I have only a farmer’s version of the story.”

  The king studied him for a moment. “And what does this farmer say?”

  “Umm…” Tristan gave him a small smile. “Well…he says…he found me in a meadow near his farm. I was unconscious.”

  “Were you dressed as such when he found you?” the king asked. Tristan nodded. The king’s head dipped in acknowledgement. “I see. Despite your carefully ambiguous answers to my questions, the point remains. I am deeply in your debt. What do you require for your loyal and honorable service to my queen?”

  Tristan’s eyes darted to the queen. “Require?”

  “How may I reward you?” the king clarified.

  “Oh. Um.” His lips pursed as he thought about it. “Anything?” He glanced at the princess who was still watching him carefully.

  The king’s eyes followed his and narrowed, but he said nothing of it. “Name your request.”

  “Well, I’m…” All eyes were on him, and the great hall had gone silent. “I’m kind of hungry.”

  The king regarded him with curiosity. “You require a meal before you request your reward.” He nodded. “Very well.” He motioned to a servant waiting patiently in the corner. “Prepare our finest for our guest.” The servant scurried off to obey his command.

  “No, I’m just hungry,” Tristan told him. “I don’t require anything else.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just hungry. A meal would be very nice. Thank you.”

  “The meal is your request?” the king asked incredulously.

  Tristan cleared his throat. “Your majesty…I don’t require a reward. I didn’t do anything really. Your guards are the ones who, you know, stopped him. I just…gave them the heads up, you know. It’s not what you think.”

  “General Kale’s men say you took the assassin down yourself,” the king corrected.

  Tristan chuckled nervously. “Honestly, sir, I saw your…the queen and princess pass, and your daughter is very…” He swallowed hard at the king’s once again narrowing eyes. “Beautiful. She’s really quite stunning and…I was just…um, following along with the crowd…fascinated really.

  “I saw the man had a knife,” he continued. “I just reacted. It wasn’t a conscious, brave act. It was…I don’t know, a moment of insanity maybe. I don’t deserve your generosity. I don’t even know how I got here. I really just want to go home.”

  The king and the guard at his side exchanged a look. The king’s head tilted as he considered Tristan. “Interesting.”

  “I just want to go home,” Tristan repeated.

  “I don’t know of any lands other than the ones I have named,” the king told him. “I don’t know how to get you home, but I offer you the sanctuary of my home,” his hand swept to encompass the room and beyond. “Until you are able to return to yours.”

  The guard at his side stepped forward in protest. “My king—“

  The king stopped him with a single lifted hand. “Provide Tristan with whatever he requires to be comfortable.” He strode back to his family.

  “That’s very kind of you, sir…your majesty, but—“ Tristan began.

  He was interrupted by the guard still staring at him. “The king has spoken,” he announced. But his suspicious eyes held Tristan’s for several beats before he turned his back.