Betrayal

    Garadaine’s head ached terribly, preventing any thoughts to enter his mind. All he could focus on was the heartbeat he could feel throbbing within his skull. As he slowly opened his eyes, he felt water rushing between his eyelids, and closed them quickly.
    “Easy now,” a voice said softly.
    “What…?” Garadaine groaned. A hand moved to his back and began pushing him upright. Now sitting up, Garadaine opened his eyes again, beginning to feel the rain hitting him softly.
    “You alright, my Prince?” Masark asked quietly.

    “Greylen! The Orcs!” Garadaine gasped, finally realizing what had happened. But the village of Dahyart was no longer around him, but rather a small clearing in a deep wood.
    “Easy…” Masark warned, holding Garadaine off his feet.
    “What happened to Greylen? Where are we?” Garadaine asked more calmly, rubbing the back of his head.
    “We are in the forest outside of Dahyart, I dragged you here after the Orcs departed. They took your master away, east, towards the mountains and the Capital.”
    “What would they want of him there? And how could a force that small possibly lay siege to the legions garrisoned at the Capital?”
    “I suspect they’re not looking to besiege the city, more like looking for something specifically. I heard Noriock talking about some sword.”
    “You don’t suppose they’re after the ancient swords of Ulmerad and Daravon, do you? I thought those had been destroyed.”
    “Let us hope that they have been,” Masark said, finally helping Garadaine to his feet, “if either sword fell into the wrong hands…”
    “I’d rather not think about it,” Garadaine shook his head slowly.
    “So what do we do now? The whole country thinks you are a traitor, the only man who could prove your innocence is held captive by a force we could never defeat on our own, and we’ve no provisions.”
    “There’s only one place I can think of to go where I may still find a loyal friend: Halcyon Castle.”
    “Your mother, the Queen?”
    “If anyone will listen to me, she will.”

    “I never thought of you as one to run home to mommy,” Masark smirked.
    Garadaine raised his fist as to punch the cloaked man, but began chuckling softly. Shaking his head, he leaned down and picked up his sword; Masark must have brought it with him when he carried him to safety.
    “I’m surprised the Orcs didn’t take this with them,” Garadaine said to himself.
    “They seemed to be in a hurry.”
    “So are we,” the Prince began swinging the sword through the air quickly, as if fencing with an imaginary foe.
    The two began winding their way toward the main road, making sure to once again stay out of sight. While they couldn’t travel on the main road, the would need to follow it as best they could so as not to get lost in the thick maze of trees and underbrush. Lake Halcyon was not very far, especially with the new roads system the Queen had been building, and though the rain persisted most of the way, it was nowhere near as heavy as it was before. The rain soaked mud at their feet continued to become thicker and deeper, and made traveling excruciatingly slow. Garadaine began wondering if the risk of getting caught on the main road would be worth the time saved traveling on higher, firmly packed ground. He was also beginning to feel mounting sense of foreboding about the forest as they trudged along their way, which only added to his desire to use the roads instead.