Lochlan gazed across the sprawling camp that grew in numbers everyday. A mishmash of Eldurians and his own countrymen and women. More than two thousand soldiers and militia had joined him in his march for the Iskalt palace. The Eldurians came because their princess asked them to, though they still didn’t know Brea was theirs. The connection between her and her people was evident in the way they followed her lead.
He’d never had any doubt Brea could inspire people to greatness. But what astounded him were the sheer numbers of Iskalt men and women who joined them along their journey.
“Your Majesty.” A young man several years younger than Lochlan approached his tent with a formal bow.
“Captain Walsh.” Lochlan returned his bow with a nod. It was strange the way his countrymen treated him with such respect and reverence. It reminded him of the way his father’s men behaved around the king. “How are your men faring this morning?”
“Very well, sire. We’ve scouted the roads around the palace and discovered a way around Callum’s men.”
“Show me on the map.” Lochlan bent over the large map covering the makeshift table in his tent. Captain Walsh was the first man Lochlan met when he led his soldiers through the pass along the Northern Vatlands and into Iskalt near the village Callum slaughtered. The young man led a contingent of soldiers—boys mostly—who had heard Lochlan was coming. They claimed they wanted to join their rightful king and help him take his throne. Lochlan was speechless. Walsh led more than four hundred young soldiers, all eager to do their part.
“Excellent job, Walsh.” Lochlan clapped him on the back, placing a marker on the map where he planned for his army to make a move on the palace.
“Thank you, sire.” The captain bowed and took his leave, seeking out a hot meal and a warm bed after a long night of scouting.
A sense of pride swept through Lochlan. He was finally making a move to claim his throne. He had a capable army at his back, with day and night magic wielders. He’d never felt more certain of his path. Never felt so like the King of Iskalt he was born to be. And he’d never felt so alone.
Deep down, Lochlan understood why Finn left to put his efforts into freeing the woman he loved. He had no doubt, if given a chance to swap places with Alona, Finn would do it without a second thought. But Lochlan needed his best friend. Here among his soldiers, captains, and lieutenants, Lochlan had no one he could trust the way he trusted Finn. He second guessed every decision he made, asking himself what Finn would say if he were here. He didn’t want to resent his best friend for abandoning him at the worst possible time. He didn’t want to resent him for doing what he had to for Alona. But he still felt the sting of betrayal every morning when he woke up in his tent alone without the one person he trusted above all others to advise him. Without Finn … without his brother, Lochlan was lost.
“Your Highness?” An older man approached the tent.
Lochlan frowned. The man looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place him. “You were one of my father’s men?”
The man smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You used to call me uncle when you were just a boy.” He held his hand out, and Lochlan took it, shaking his hand, but his name escaped him.
“Brennan Cormac,” the man supplied.
“Of course.” A genuine smile spread across Lochlan’s face. “Uncle Bren.” Lochlan remembered playing with Brennan’s sons not long before his parents’ deaths.
“I once served as a general in your father’s army. I’m an old man now. Retired for twenty years since the wrong O’Shea thought to sit on your father’s throne and send his boys off to grow up in foreign courts. I’ve waited for this day for a long time, your Majesty. I’d be proud to help Nial O’Shea’s son take what belongs to him.”
“I find myself surrounded by inexperienced soldiers and militia. I am in dire need of a seasoned advisor. I would be honored to work with the man my father called brother.”
“He’d be damned proud of you, Lochlan.”
“Thank you, sir.” Lochlan stepped back, offering Brennan a seat by the table.
“Now, how can I help?”
It felt strange, trusting a man he barely remembered, but if his father trusted Brennan with his life, then Lochlan could too.
~~~
Nephew, Go back to your Eldur queen and hide behind her skirts like you’ve been doing all your life. Your rag-tag unit of boys and farmers with pitchforks don’t stand a chance against a king’s army. Go home before you hurt yourself and get those good Iskalt boys killed playing war games you can’t hope to win.
Your uncle,
Callum O’Shea, King of Iskalt Lochlan crumpled the letter in his hand.
“You might as well wipe your rear with that. Nothing Callum has to say is worth the parchment it’s written on.” Brennan studied the map of Iskalt in the growing darkness. Another day gone, and they hadn’t made a move yet. Lochlan had spent the day with Brennan surveying his troops and making plans, but Lochlan still didn’t feel confident about his chances against Callum’s forces. His magic wielders alone could level Loch’s army.
“You know what you have to do, Loch. It’s the only clear path to victory.”
Lochlan stared at the map, hoping to see whatever Brennan saw, but he just saw the makings of a bloody battle and terrible odds. “And what’s that? Go home like my uncle told me to?”
Brennan snorted. “Of course not. Callum and all his advisors are as predictable as a textbook. They will not expect you to think outside the box.”
“Make your suggestions.” Lochlan gave him a curt nod to go on.
“Callum underestimates you. He sees you as a spoiled young prince. A boy with a streak of entitlement a mile wide. He doesn’t know you, so let’s catch him off guard.”
“How?”
“You have something he doesn’t. A thousand Eldurians with day magic. We attack at noon tomorrow. Your friends’ fire magic will send Callum’s soldiers running for cover. They’ll never expect it.”
“But with only a fraction of his numbers, all the fire magic in the world isn’t going to help if we can’t overcome his thousands. We would stand a better chance if we attack at dusk when my soldiers have both fire magic and ice magic.”
“And Callum’s thousands will also have their ice magic at the ready. But if we attack at noon, that puts all of Callum’s men and your Iskalt soldiers on an even footing. At noon, they’re all just men. Your fire magic wielders will give you the edge you need to get inside and overthrow that spineless coward once and for all. He’s so arrogant and close-minded, he’ll never see it coming. He would never consider not fighting with magic, and he will expect the same of you.
Lochlan studied the map and the numbers, pitting his army against Callum’s larger one. It could be a suicide mission, but if Callum made certain assumptions and relied too heavily on his magic wielders, then pure brawn could work.
What would Finn say? He could practically hear Finn’s excitement for this plan. He would appreciate the simplicity of it. Pitting soldiers against soldiers at a time when their ice magic lay dormant, leaving them with nothing but their swords and their wit. It would come down to who were the better fighters, and who wanted it more. He could feel the anticipation of his soldiers. They wanted this. Even the Eldurians were passionate about removing Callum O’Shea from his throne after what he did in Eldfal.
“We march at noon.” He was ready for this. Lochlan O’Shea was borne to take this throne and repair the damage his uncle had wrought over the last two decades. It was time, and he was ready. As ready as he would be without the two most important people in his life who should be standing at his side.
~~~
“The men are in place, your Highness.” Captain Walsh approached Lochlan and Brennan where they stood overlooking his army surrounding the Iskalt palace. “Trebuchets and catapults are at the ready. We’ll breach those high walls in no time, sire.”
Lochlan frowned. Something wasn’t right. Callum would never sit inside his castle while an army surrounded him. Siege wasn’t his style. “He’s not taking me seriously,” Lochlan muttered.
“He doesn’t believe we have a chance of defeating him during the day,” Brennan said. “That mistake will lead to his demise.”
“Walsh, have your men lay waste to those walls,” Lochlan gave the order. “Brennan, call the longbowmen to cover them. This will be a long day, and we’re up against more experienced men. We need to be smarter and faster.”
“You can count on us, sire. We will have you on your throne by evening” Walsh gave a curt bow before he set off to give the order to begin the siege of Lochlan’s ancestral home.
Within the first few hours, Lochlan knew this would not be a quick afternoon battle. He charged down the line on his black warhorse, calling out orders for his archers to engage the moment Callum’s men made an appearance. As of yet, Callum hadn’t even acknowledged Lochlan’s siege. He threw everything they had at the palace walls, which were finally crumbling, but it would take most of the night to bring them down. His men were tired and tense from their one-sided battle. Soot streaked their faces as the ground shook from the catapults launching their burning missiles.
“He’s toying with me.” Lochlan rode beside one of his father’s greatest friends, wondering if he’d made a mistake trusting in him.
“He thinks he will tire you out waiting for sunset.”
“And he’s right. Our soldiers have already had a long day. They cannot withstand a full night of this.”
“The Eldurians will be our secret weapon,” Brennan insisted. “They wait just over the next rise.”
“Waiting for night? When they’ll be as useless as we are right now?” Lochlan was losing patience after so many monotonous hours of the same activity.
“Waiting for the right moment to turn the tide in your favor, your Majesty. Callum has little mind for battle strategy. He will not make a move against you tonight. He’s prepared to let us throw ourselves at this wall all night and maybe even the next until we are so exhausted we can’t even think straight. That is when he will make his move. And that is when the Eldurians will defeat him.”
“I see the sense of your plan.” Lochlan gripped the reins of his horse tightly. “It is the waiting that is killing me. Waiting and worrying about my soldiers.”
“We will rest the soldiers in shifts so they will be ready when the time is right. You are young, lad.” Brennan laughed, slapping him on the back. “Too young to know how boring and miserable war can be. The heat of battle isn’t always the hardest part. When it’s just you and the blade in your hand, time flies. Nothing matters beyond the death of your immediate opponent and where the next one lies in wait. But siege? Siege is a different beast all together. Callum’s advisors are making you wait just for that reason. They’re not hiding behind these walls because they’re scared. Callum is showing patience I didn’t think he had. We will wait patiently, and when we lure him out, we will be ready.”
“I appreciate your advice, Brennan.” Lochlan nodded, watching as a fresh unit came to relieve the weary soldiers manning the trebuchets.
“I would have thought the Eldurian Queen would have sent you with some of her own advisors.” Brennan glanced at Lochlan, trying to gauge his reaction to the prying question.
“She is supportive, but her attention is on Fargelsi. Until her daughter returns, Queen Faolan will not have much to offer Iskalt.” It felt odd, explaining Lochlan’s lack of support in the way of seasoned officers and commanders. His soldiers were green, and he had precious little experience himself.
“I imagine Eamon Donovan is banging at the Gelsi border much like we’re doing with this wall. He will see Princess Alona home or die trying.” Brennan sat up taller in his saddle. “It does my heart good to see a light at the end of the tunnel, my boy. You will make a king your father would be proud of. You’ll restore the relationships between Iskalt and Eldur, and then we can focus on the real threat—bringing that Fargelsian witch down once and for all.”
“That’s the goal.” Lochlan sighed. “Though I’m not sure I see the light yet.”
“We’ve come a long way since you were a child, your Majesty. Just you wait. Your reign will be magnificent.”
Lochlan wished he had Brennan’s optimism. Without Finn, Alona, and Brea, he felt like he was missing an arm. His confidence was gone, and he was lost in a sea of indecision and second-guessing himself.