The Rebel Prince

Copyright © 2014 Melanie Matthews

Cover Photograph Copyright © Kraska/Shutterstock

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever without written consent from the author.

The Rebel Prince is a work of fiction.

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's

imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

About The Rebel Prince

A prince who doesn’t want to be a leader, a girl who’s forbidden to be a knight, and her brother who’s afraid to fight, must save their home from the clutches of evil.

When Tiberius, the upstart Vulture King of Gothia unleashes his demon army of Harpies to attack the Kingdom of Verona, Prince Julian and his friends, Pris and

Max, escape and travel across the war torn and devastated land of Clara Vallis to seek out a rumored thousand-year-old wizard named Cicero, who is their only hope

of defeating Tiberius and saving their kingdom. But across this wasted land are more dangers than Julian and his friends could have ever known: living skeletons, territorial ghosts, and cannibals. Julian’s mission is to save his home, but can he

keep his friends safe in time to reach the wizard?

About the Author

Melanie Matthews is the author of Coldhearted, a chilling ghost story, and Burning Hearts, about a demon-slayer who falls in love with a half-demon. Both are

available at Amazon, Smashwords, and Lulu in ebook and paperback formats. She lives in South Carolina.

Follow on Twitter @matthews_author

melaniematthewsauthor.weebly.com

Chapter 1

Distractions

Her giggles were like a knife being twisted in his back.

“That’s three times I’ve knocked you down, my prince. I say, your heart doesn’t seem to be in this today.”

Prince Julian was on the ground, behind his home of Castle Fortuna, in the Kingdom of Verona. He didn’t feel like getting up. His pants were torn. His golden blond hair was dusted with dirt. And never-ending beads of sweat were falling down his temples, over his bright blue eyes.

And it didn’t help that Pris kept laughing at him.“There will be no more of that,” said Sir Claudius in a stern voice. His

large hand was wrapped around the wooden hilt of his broadsword, the tip pointing to the ground.

Sir Claudius was a gray-haired, tall, and broad-shouldered knight. He was also Prince Julian’s trainer in combat.

Pris finally stopped laughing, but she could only hold it back when she clamped her hand over her mouth.

Priscilla was a tall, common girl, whose father tended the castle grounds. She couldn’t read and had no desire to. Instead, she wanted to fight. She wasn’t like other girls, who wore dresses and brushed their hair a lot. She wore men’s clothes and her long, brown hair was always frizzy and disheveled.

And despite the fact that Julian was a prince, she teased him all the time. Julian didn’t like it, of course, but there was a part of him that liked her—even though she didn’t seem to like him at all.

“Is my bratty sister laughing at you again?” asked Max, walking to them from the kitchens where he worked.

Maximilian was tall and brown-haired like Pris, but he could read any book in the castle library and write. When he wasn’t baking, he was helping translate ancient scrolls. And he had no desire to fight—except with his little sister.

“Go away Max!” She gave her brother a good punch on his arm.“Ow!” He rubbed his wound. “Why’d you go and do that for?” He

pointed at Julian. “And right in front of the prince.”

Julian counted Max as a true friend. They never argued and Max agreed with everything Julian said. The arguments always came from Pris, who was beautiful in her own sort of lazy way.

“Prince-this, prince-that,” she said in a whiny voice, mimicking how she thought Max sounded. “Why don’t you run over there and pull him off the ground?” She turned to Julian and smiled. “No, wait. After all those falls, he’s gotten used to rolling around in the dirt!”

“That’s enough!” barked Sir Claudius. “Go to the armory, Pris. Help the men with the weapons.”

She furrowed her brow, disappointed to leave, but then she smiled. “Okay.” She skipped away happily.

Pris knew how to handle any weapon, except for the heavy broadswords the knights carried. She mainly helped make arrows for the archers on the Wall.

To the west of Kingdom Verona, simply named the Edge, was the Haunted Forest, full of cackling monsters that flew. The men on the Wall—mostly archers (plus a group of knights who were skilled in all areas of combat)—were stationed from day to night, guarding the kingdom by each taking down at least ten flying monsters every day. These evil flying monsters were called Harpies—laughing women with wings.

Julian had never seen one, but heard they were fearsome. Max—being an avid reader—would tell Julian all about the stories of the old world—of magic and might, of wars and warriors, of peace and prosperity.

Julian could read; he just didn’t like to. “Sorry about Pris,” said Max, reaching his hand out for Julian to grab

while he lay on the ground.The prince accepted his friend’s help and stood tall, trying not to look

defeated. He quickly brushed the dirt off his clothes and hair.“It’s all right. I’m used to her.”In fact, he didn’t mind having her around. Except in this instance during

Sir Claudius’ training session with the broadswords, Julian was constantly

distracted by Pris, wondering what she was thinking about and why she always seemed to be near him.

Julian knew she didn’t like him and thought she was just bored. She would often hang around him and Max as they traveled around the castle and in carriage rides into the villages.

“I wish she’d find some girls to hang around with,” said Max. “I don’t know why she’s so weird.”

“She’s not weird,” Sir Claudius disagreed. He slipped his broadsword into its scabbard. “She’s mad…and restless. She tried again to be a knight—petitioned King Titus himself.”

Fourteen-year-olds couldn’t be a knight, much less fourteen-year-old girls. Both Julian and Max were sixteen and could enter next year if they wanted. Except King Titus and Queen Sabina would never allow Julian—the prince—to be a knight—that was a dangerous job—and Max had no desire to even wield a slingshot and a pebble.

“Sometimes I think she was born to a different family,” mused Max, shaking his head.

“No, you two look alike,” commented Julian, and then handed his broadsword to Sir Claudius.

Max furrowed his brow. Julian knew he always hated when someone said he looked like his sister.

“Sorry,” said Julian quickly.Max’s face relaxed and he waved his hands in the air. “No, don’t

apologize, my prince. If you say we do…”Julian laughed. “Stop calling me ‘my prince.’ How many times have I

told you to call me Julian?”“He’s just being respectful,” said Sir Claudius, holding the broadsword

like it was a toothpick. “You’ll be king one day and you can’t have your subjects call you ‘Julian’ as if you were one of them.”

It was no surprise to Julian that he would be king one day. There was talk of finding him a wife in one of the lands across the Sapphire Sea to the

north, or from a noble family in one of the aristocratic villages, where his mother had come from. It was all too much on young Julian, who didn’t want to think about being king or getting married. He just wanted to be Prince Julian and be with his best friend Max, and yes, even with Pris, who he had always wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

“There’s that look again,” said Claudius, scanning Julian’s face.Julian furrowed his brow. “What look?”Sir Claudius just smiled. “Well, I’m off to the Wall, my prince. Bid me a

safe return.”Prince Julian nodded. “Let your arrows fly true and fast and enemies fall

at your feet.”That was the motto of the archers on the Wall. It made Julian feel like a

king when he said it; although his father, Titus, had a booming voice that did the motto justice, as his words sent shivers down everyone’s spines.

“Till tomorrow,” said Sir Claudius with a smile.He gave a farewell bow to Julian and a nod to Max. Julian watched him

walk away with his gray attire—soon be even more gray—as he was about to go to Wall; the knight would clad himself with a silver helmet and a silver breastplate—along with silver armor and chain mail—and a silver-painted wooden shield with the emblem of the Kingdom of Verona on it—the double-headed eagle.

“I wish they would allow Pris to become a knight,” said Max.“Why?” asked Julian.“Then she’d finally stop hanging around us all the time.”But Julian didn’t make a comment as they walked back inside the castle.

He would never tell Max that he liked his sister. There were some secrets a man must keep to himself.

Chapter Two

A Fallen Soldier

The Ancient Horn bellowed in the night.

Prince Julian leapt off his bed. He stood there, shaking, wondering if he really did hear the sound of trouble—the sound of enemies approaching—the sound of death.

The Horn sounded again and the castle walls shook. Then there were shouts. Julian couldn’t understand what was being said, but he was sure of one thing: there was trouble.

Julian’s bedroom was on the other side of Castle Fortuna, farthest from the Western Wall to the Edge—to the Haunted Forest—farthest from the danger of the Harpies.

But right now, he didn’t feel very safe. He heard another bellow, but it didn’t come from the Horn—it came

from his burnt out fireplace. It turned on a wheel under the floor like a door and out came Max.

“What’s going on?” asked Julian, rushing over to him.Both boys were in their pajamas, but whereas Julian’s was made of the

finest white silk, Max’s was an old hand-me-down made of faded gray cotton.

“I came as quick as I could,” said Max, holding a lantern in his hand. “There’s—”

“Trouble on the Wall,” interrupted Pris, now stepping out from the secret passageway and into Julian’s room.

Even though Julian was fully dressed, he felt a bit nervous about appearing in front of Pris, or any girl, in his pajamas. But she didn’t seem to care, wearing her own old hand-me-down blue cotton pajamas that actually looked quite nice on her.

Max swung around to face her, angry. “I told you to stay back!”“You don’t tell me what to do!” she argued, tightly holding onto her own

lantern.The secret passageways within Castle Fortuna weren’t lit and the only

way one could navigate the confusing mazes was to bring either a lantern or

a lit torch. Pris first discovered the secret passageways when they were all children and the three of them have been using the passageways for years—sneaking around, pretending to be either enemies, trying to infiltrate the castle, or gallant knights, defending the castle.

Pris was always the gallant knight—always the bravest warrior who would lay down her own life for that of her king. Julian admired her very much for her loyalty, but was confused as to why she never showed it to him.

“What kind of trouble?” Julian asked Max, trying to quell a potential fight between the two siblings.

“Harpies,” replied Max in a low voice. “There’s been an attack.”“More like a battle is the way I heard it,” corrected Pris. “I heard the

archers and the knights shouting. I heard arrows whistling in the air and the dreadful cackling of the Harpies.” Pris shuddered.

Julian wanted to go over and comfort her, but held back. He wouldn’t dare try that while they were in their pajamas—that was not how a prince and a gentleman behaved—and also he wouldn’t dare touch her while Max was around.

“I know the Harpies have always been fearsome,” said Julian, “but the men on the Wall are the best of the best. What could have happened?”

Pris rolled her eyes. “Well, I wanted to sneak around and find out, but Max wanted to run to you as soon as his pants were secured around his waist.”

“Hush, you,” said Max. “My first priority was to see if the prince was all right.”

“Please, Max, call me ‘Julian.’”“Sorry—my prince—I mean Julian,” said Max, bowing.Julian stifled the urge to shake his head. He loved Max like the brother

he never had, but like a brother, he got on Julian’s nerves with all of this “my prince” talk.

He wanted everyone to treat him like a normal young man. But he wasn’t normal. He wasn’t common. He was the heir to the throne. Sir Claudius had reminded him of that on so many occasions, but Julian still couldn’t quite accept it. He hoped his father, King Titus, would rule forever. Julian wouldn’t be a good king—he just knew it. All he really cared about was having fun with Max and daydreaming about Pris.

Julian heard heavy footsteps from men’s boots trampling down the hallway.

“I have to go to my son,” said Queen Sabina, in a desperate and frightened voice from outside Julian’s bedroom door.

“Quick,” Julian whispered to Max and Pris, shooing them back through the secret passageway.

The siblings hurried through and Julian closed the secret fireplace door that was thankfully unlit that night—for Max wouldn’t have been able to open it without scalding his fingers.

It was spring in the Kingdom of Verona, but at the thought of a battle with the Harpies, Julian was chilled all over as if he’d been lingering in a blizzard all night.

Julian’s bedroom door opened wide. “Oh, my son!” exclaimed Queen Sabina, rushing over to Julian.She held him in a tight embrace, wearing her own fine rose silk pajamas;

her long golden blond hair fell down her back.“I’m okay, mother. I’m okay,” said Julian, feeling a bit embarrassed. As a

sixteen-year-old, his mother was still treating him like a little child who needed to be comforted.

A knight appeared at his door. “Is the prince all right?” asked Sir Loren. He was a young night, only nineteen, and had wild red hair that he kept

hidden under his silver helmet; the helmet was etched with a golden wing on each side, and the piece that protected the length of his nose was shaped like an eagle’s beak.

“Yes, good knight, thank you,” said Queen Sabina.

Sir Loren nodded and continued down the hallway.Julian eased out of his mother’s tight embrace. “What’s happening,

mother?” He wouldn’t dare tell her that Max and Pris had already visited him. As

far as Julian knew, no one was aware of the secret passageways—because if they did, King Titus would have ordered them sealed up.

Max had told Julian about the secret passageways being used by kings in ancient times when Castle Fortuna was constantly under siege by enemies in the south, an unnamed land. Now, the land to the south of Verona was called Gothia, and for the past few centuries, no one from that land had attacked the north. They were an independent nation that elected their own leaders often, only serving for a short time. It was something quite strange to the citizens of Verona, who expected the same person to rule over them for decades.

King Titus had been Verona’s ruler for twenty-five years now. He was a good king that provided well for his people and there hadn’t been any wars among the people in a very long time. King Titus was greatly loved. Julian hoped that when it was his turn to become king, the people would love him too.

The only threat came from the west and the Harpies. Before, they had been a mild threat, and the archers had easily taken them down. But now…well, now something has happened that could very well be the beginning of a time of troubles for the people of Verona.

“Oh, my son!” exclaimed Queen Sabina again. “I have dreadful news! There was a terrible assault upon the men on the Wall by the Harpies.”

“Did…did anyone die?” asked Julian, fearing the worst.Queen Sabina nodded as tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, my son,

but Sir Claudius is dead.”

Chapter Three

Know Thy Enemy

Sir Claudius was given full military honors.

His funeral began as the sun rose. The banners of the double-headed golden eagle on a field of pale blue flew at half staff. Trumpets sounded. Knights raised their broadswords in honor. Archers fired a volley of arrows in an arch beyond the Western Wall and if they hit a Harpy, then good riddance. And women wept. Sir Claudius wasn’t married and had no children. Knights weren’t permitted to marry, but he was a good man that treated women with respect. All loved him. The men revered him. He was King Titus’ best friend.

Far behind Castle Fortuna was a vast graveyard for military heroes. His tombstone was made of black marble and the markings upon it were fashioned from white pearls.

All of the citizens of the Kingdom of Verona were in attendance. All wore their finest clothes—even the commoners.

Julian couldn’t stop staring at Pris, who was wearing a dress. It was a soft black color—respectful of one in mourning. The dress was simple, stretching down to her feet, where she wore black shoes. Her normally frizzy brown hair was brushed back neatly and secured in a bun at the back of her head. Max was dressed similar to her, except for the dress, of course.

The three of them stood together and Julian tried to listen to his father’s eulogy, but Pris, standing so beautiful beside him, was a major distraction.

“…the bravest man I ever knew,” said King Titus in his booming voice, as he stood next to Sir Claudius’ tombstone.

King Titus was a very tall man, who had towered even over the gallant Sir Claudius. His hair was black as the night and held down by the golden crown he wore atop his head. And he wore a black robe around his clothes with gold stitching.

Julian felt his left hand being squeezed. He looked over to see his mother, Queen Sabina, crying, but smiling at him.

She wore all black too and a similar golden stitched black robe as King Titus. But a silver crown adored her head full of golden blond locks. She was a petite woman and Julian was so tall now that he towered over her by a foot. But he wasn’t as tall as his father. “The Giant King,” he was called. It was a term of endearment that King Titus graciously accepted. Julian wondered what nickname the people would give him.

Julian knew that his mother was trying to comfort him, but he felt embarrassed as she held his hand; so he gently withdrew from his mother’s grasp and quickly adjusted the brass crown on his head; it kept slouching to the left side. His mother had insisted that she secure it to his head, but he refused. He was man now, as his father and Sir Claudius had told him on many occasions, and men didn’t wear pins in their hair to secure crowns!

“…his death will not be in vain,” continued King Titus’ roaring voice. “He will be avenged. Our beautiful Kingdom of Verona will not stand for this evil menace to the west.”

Julian looked to the Western Wall. Despite the funeral down below, many men—mostly archers—were still atop the Wall—still looking out for Harpies.

Before the funeral, Julian, Max, and Pris had overheard a group of knights and the king talking. The trio had been hiding behind a (thankfully) unlit fireplace in the secret passageway near the king’s war room, where his counselors met in times of distress. It had not been used in years. Now that it was occupied again meant something foul and fearsome was threatening the Kingdom of Verona…

“What happened?” asked King Titus in his deep voice.“It had been unusually quiet, my king,” said one knight.None of the trio could see—only listen in on a meeting they weren’t

supposed to be in attendance to.

“Not a laugh could be heard for miles,” said another knight, one with a softer voice.

“But we, along with the archers, were all on guard, ready, as we are all the time,” said the third knight, in an almost high-pitched voice.

“How many Harpies were there?” asked King Titus.There was a silence that seemed to stretch for hours.“Well?” asked King Titus, sounding frustrated.“Just one, my king,” replied the first knight.“One?” repeated King Titus. “You mean to tell me that one Harpy

managed to make it to the Wall?! And not only that, she managed to kill one of the greatest knights this kingdom has ever seen?!”

Julian couldn’t see his father’s face, but he knew it was beet red with anger.

There was another stretch of silence, but it was shorter this time.“I’m sorry, my king,” said the soft-spoken knight. “She seemed to come

out of nowhere and before we knew it, she dove right for Sir Claudius and…”

The knight didn’t need to finish. Julian knew how Harpies killed and that was why Sir Claudius would not be shown to the public before his burial. Harpies were without mercy, without honor, without love. Their hearts were black and diseased. Whenever they were killed by an arrow to their hearts, their bodies burst into ashes. It was said that the remains of dead Harpies were in such tall heaps that the ashes were almost near the top of the Wall.

King Titus was silent for a while before he said, “Where was Sir Claudius stationed on the Wall?”

“As he always was,” replied the third knight, “right in the middle.”“The middle is the most heavily defended,” said King Titus. “Castle

Fortuna is just on the other side.”“Yes, my king, you are correct,” said the first knight. “The Harpies

usually attack from further down the Wall—north to the Sapphire Sea and

south to the land of Gothia. The archers are few there, but no less skilled in rapidly dispatching the dozens of Harpies that assail the Wall on a daily basis.”

The door to the king’s war room creaked open and then shut.“My king,” said the new arrival.Julian recognized the voice of Sir Loren, the redheaded knight.“Are my wife and son all right?” asked King Titus.“They are,” replied Sir Loren.“Good, good,” said King Titus. “Where were you positioned on Wall, Sir

Loren?”“I wasn’t far from Sir Claudius, my king.”“And what did you see?”“I witnessed one Harpy that was dead set on Sir Claudius, if I were to

venture my opinion on the attack, my king.”“That doesn’t make any sense,” said the high-pitched knight. “Harpies

aren’t strategic. They don’t make battle plans. They just…attack. It doesn’t matter what rank someone is. They kill just to kill.”

“That’s true,” agreed the first knight, “but the attack that killed Sir Claudius wasn’t like all the other attacks. One Harpy. One attack. One death. Something’s…amiss.”

“Perhaps we don’t know our enemies as well as we think we do,” said the soft-spoken knight.

Julian thought over the knight’s words all the way back to his room, while he dressed for the funeral, and while he stood with the whole kingdom before Sir Claudius’ tombstone.

There were scrolls upon scrolls, books upon books about the land from ancient times; about the Edge, about the Haunted Forest that was always haunted, and about the cackling women with wings—called Harpies—who lived in the darkness and loved only one thing: to kill others.

Could the history books be wrong? Or was something else going on?

Julian was jolted from his daydreaming by a sudden warm feeling to his right hand.

“I’m sorry about Sir Claudius, my prince,” said Pris.Julian just stared at her, shocked by her sweet voice, her condolences,

and her gentle touch. It was all he could do to not kiss her in front of the whole kingdom.

He didn’t know what kind of look was on his face, but whatever he looked like, it didn’t seem pleasing to Pris; she furrowed her brow and quickly released his hand. And then she turned away from him and left with her parents, as well as the rest of the people, back to their homes.

The funeral was over. King Titus had spoken and now he made quick strides with his knights and advisors back to the castle—probably back to the war room that would undoubtedly now be lit by a roaring fire—vacant no longer.

Queen Sabina gave Julian a quick kiss on his cheek and left with the other ladies in mourning.

Sir Loren stood by, waiting to escort Julian back to the castle. Max was still with him.

“Sir Loren,” said Julian, as they walked back to the castle, “what do you think will happen next?”

The redheaded knight halted and gave him a grim look. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I can’t discuss with you matters of war.”

“War?” repeated Max. “There’s going to be a war?”Sir Loren shook his head, as if he were scolding himself for such a

stupid slip of the tongue. “I’m not as wise as you are in matters of war,” said Julian to Sir Loren,

“but I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems to me that Sir Claudius was targeted.”

Sir Loren gave a half smile and raised his eyebrow. “It seems you are most definitely wise in matters of war, my young prince. You will make a fine king one day.”

Julian raised his own eyebrow and returned a half smile. “I thank you, good knight, for your words, but I didn’t fail to notice that you evaded my question.”

“If you will pardon me, my prince, but you didn’t ask a question. You made a statement,” he said with a smile.

“Is this grammar class or what?” said Max, frustrated. “Is Prince…I mean, Julian right? Was Sir Claudius targeted?”

Thunder boomed in the distance. They all looked up and Julian noticed the appearance of dark gray storm clouds.

“Lightning will arrive soon,” said Sir Loren. “We must go inside.”“I’m not afraid of a storm,” said Julian, straightening his back—and

noticing when he did so, he was almost an inch taller than Sir Loren.“There are storms and then there are storms, my prince,” said Sir Loren.

“Now, inside the castle,” he continued, but in a sterner voice.Julian obliged and left the graveyard, where the good knight, Sir

Claudius, was buried in the earth, gone from this world. And a strike from a bolt of lightning finally crashed upon the Kingdom of

Verona.

Chapter Four

Flame and Arrow

The battle had lasted one hour and Pris had almost died.

Torrential rains had poured down on the Kingdom of Verona. It’d started during Sir Claudius’ funeral and hadn’t let up until the next night. But during that day, King Titus had issued orders to burn down the Haunted Forest.

Julian, Max, and Pris had been hiding behind the war room like before, but this time, they’d been several feet back, resting in the cool shadows from the roaring flames of the room’s fireplace.

Because they’d been at a distance, they’d heard nothing but a garbled conversation among King Titus and his knights…

“I’ve had…this has to stop…no more…,” said King Titus.“What…orders…king?” asked Sir Loren.“I want…forest burned…destroy…scorch…Harpies fly…shoot…down,”

replied King Titus.“My king…the rain,” said the high-pitched knight.“…don’t care!” shouted King Titus. There was a loud crash and Julian assumed his father had turned over a

chair he was so angry.“Burn…all…keep…woods…burning…,” the king continued.“Yes, my king,” said Sir Loren.Julian heard heavy boots across the war room’s floor. The door creaked

open, shut, and then there was silence—except for the crackling fire.“They’re going to burn down the Haunted Forest,” said Max, still

crouched down to the stone floor.Pris stood up. “Oh, thanks for clearing that up, because we didn’t know,”

she said in a sarcastic voice.Max stood up too. “Hush! Your voice is so loud that the whole castle can

hear you!”Pris punched him. “Ow!” said Max and rubbed his arm. “Why can’t you be a normal girl?”“Oh, and prance around all day, giggling and batting my eyelashes?! No,

thanks! You heard them,” she said, waving her hand at the wall of the war room. “They’re going to destroy the Harpies once and for all, and I want in!”

Max shook his head. “Only knights and archers will be in the battle. You are neither and I don’t care if you walk around in men’s pants all day, you’ll never wield a weapon in battle.”

Pris went to hit him again, but this time, Julian caught her arm in his hand. There seemed to be a jolt of electricity that passed through him when

he touched her, but he kept his hand gently clasped around her arm. To his further surprise, she let him hold her, but her eyes were wide with shock.

“I’ve read about the dungeons below the castle,” said Max, smiling. “What do you think, my prince…I mean, Julian? Should she be tossed into the dungeons?”

Julian slowly released her arm, but he stared at Pris awhile, wondering if she felt the same jolt of electricity. Finally, he said, “I didn’t stop her to punish her.”

“Well, why did you touch me?” she asked, rubbing her arm.“Did I hurt you?” Julian asked, concerned.Pris shook her head. “No, it was just…unexpected.”“Pris,” Julian pleaded, “please don’t go to the Wall. Let the knights and

the archers handle it.”“You may be a prince, but you can’t give me orders,” she said, crossing

her arms against her chest.Julian held back the urge to shake his head. Pris could be so stubborn!“I didn’t give you an order, Pris. I said ‘please.’ Please don’t go to the

Wall.”“You heard him,” said Max. “Stop acting like an idiot.”Pris stepped forward and reared her fist back, ready to punch her

brother again, but Julian stepped in her way. She immediately lowered her fist, which shocked Julian because he was sure she was going to hit him.

“What’s it to you if I go to the Wall or not?” she asked Julian.He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t tell her that he liked her and

that if something were to happen to her, he’d never forgive himself for not finding a way to stop her.

“My father would get mad,” replied Julian. “Think of your family. The king bestows a great honor on you, Max, and your parents by letting you all live in the castle. What would happen if he decided you were troublesome and ordered not only you, but your entire family out? Where would you live?”

Julian couldn’t imagine his life without her close by, as well as Max, his best friend.

“Yeah, don’t be selfish,” said Max, feeling confident as he stood behind Julian.

Pris pouted. “But I want to fight!”Julian reached up and gently touched her arm. He held his palm against

her rough gray cotton shirt. “Please don’t go, Pris. Sir Claudius was the most skilled knight from the entire guard and he was killed by one Harpy. Something’s going on. Something’s not right. This could be the beginning of a war.”

“Isn’t that the more reason for all to join the fight? What happens when all the men are killed? Do the women just sit and allow themselves to be slaughtered?”

Julian had to admit that Pris made a good point. But girls didn’t fight. It was the law. He was never mean to Pris, but in this instance, he felt it was justified—he was trying to save her life.

“Pris,” he began in a deep voice, narrowing his eyes at her, “if you do not give me your word that you will not go to the Wall, I will be forced to go to your parents and the king and tell them of your plans.”

Her jaw dropped in shock. “I can’t believe you would be so…”“Awesome,” said Max, smiling. “That was awesome, my prince!”Pris scowled at Max, but when she faced Julian, she gave him such a

look of absolute sadness that it made him want to instantly beg for her forgiveness.

But before he could even think of uttering the words, she turned around and stomped off down the stone passageway and into the dark.

“We should go after her,” said Julian to Max. “She didn’t bring a lantern with her.”

Max waved his hand in the air. “Let her go.” But then his eyes went wide. “But, my prince if you feel we should go after her…”

Julian just sighed and started walking after Pris with ever loyal Max following behind him.

The battle commenced a few hours after the war council met. It was still raining, but orders had been issued, and the men sent flaming arrow after flaming arrow into the Haunted Forest.

Julian stood with Max at an open window that faced the Western Wall. After Julian made sure that his mother, Queen Sabina, saw him safely in his room, he snuck out through the passageway with Max to see the battle.

Pris was nowhere to be found.“She’s probably off sulking somewhere,” said Max, seemingly not all

concerned about his sister’s well-being.But Julian was concerned. One, he missed having her around, and two, if

she wasn’t with them, then it was a good possibility she was at the Wall. He watched the battle intensely—watching the fire arrows soar in the air and into the Haunted Forest—watching the archers—watching the knights—watching the rain—watching for Pris.

There was a lot to watch, but Julian was soon distracted by the appearance of a Harpy. First there was one, then two, then dozens. They cackled so loud in laughter that it drowned out the thunder and lightning of the rainstorm.

“They’re horrendous,” said Julian.They had the feminine hourglass shape of a woman, but black all over

with thick armor for skin. Their ears were pointy and their teeth sharp. They had long black hair and their wing span was wide and black. It seemed they were not from this world.

“Those are some brave men,” said Max in awe. “A part of me wishes to be in the fight, but a larger part of me wants to hide like a little child. I want to be braver. I want to be like my sister, but…I’m not.”

Julian was shocked by Max’s confession. He always knew Max to shy away from any sort of fighting. He didn’t even hit his sister back and it seemed that Max truly admired her.

“I thought you hated your sister,” said Julian.Max shook his head. “I don’t hate her. She’s my sister. I love her…it’s

just…she’s so annoying!”Julian laughed. “I think she truly loves you too. Why else would she want

to hang around you?”Max turned his gaze from the battle and raised an eyebrow. “You

think?”Julian shrugged. “Why else would she want to hang around us? She

doesn’t like me. She laughs at me all the time during training with…” He trailed off, unable to say Sir Claudius’ name. There would be no more training with Sir Claudius.

He turned his gaze back to the Harpies. They had killed Sir Claudius and right now, Julian wanted to take up a broadsword and drive it straight into each and every black heart of those soulless creatures.

“Who knows why girls do the things they do? They’re a mystery,” said Max.

“I thought you said Pris wasn’t like other girls.”But Max didn’t answer him. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and leaned

forward.“What is it Max?”Max pointed in the distance. “I think…I think that’s Pris.”Julian’s heart skipped a beat. He hoped that Pris wasn’t out there. “Where?”“There,” said Max, pointing to a short knight—clad in silver—who was

launching one flaming arrow after the next at the Harpies in the air.The creatures were exploding all around the knight, dumping black

ashes like thick rain.Suddenly, a Harpy swiped her bony arm at the knight’s longbow and

knocked it away. The knight was struggling to lift a heavy broadsword, but it was too much. The Harpy took the opportunity to swat its massive black wing, and the knight fell back, and tumbled off the Wall.

When the knight’s silver helmet flew off and a long mass of frizzy brown hair was exposed, there was no doubt:

Pris was falling to her death.

Chapter Five

Stubborn

Julian was alone in the secret passageway, hiding. But he wasn’t in trouble. He was hiding because he needed a place to cry. Back in the castle, in the infirmary, Pris was laying in bed, being attended to by nurses. She’d managed to land in a heap of Harpy ash on the ground and that was the only thing that saved her from death.

Julian and Max had immediately left the castle and ran to her, where they both helped her back inside the castle…

“Get off of me,” she said, trying to push them away. “I have to go back to the battle.”

“No,” said Julian, almost shouting at her. “We’re taking you inside. You almost died.”

He didn’t want to be so mean to her, but he was mad at her for going into battle. But he was also in admiration of her—fighting Harpies with the men on the Wall. She was truly unique and if she’d died, well Julian wouldn’t know what to do without her.

“Listen to the prince,” said Max. “He just gave you an order.”Julian didn’t contradict Max’s statement when Pris stopped struggling

and allowed them to take her inside. They immediately stripped her of her armor and took her to the infirmary where they both lied and said she’d fainted.

Julian and Max agreed that they would keep her entrance in the battle a secret. Julian didn’t want her to get into trouble, fearing that King Titus may truly kick her, Max, and his parents out of the castle.

Max wanted to stay with her, but Julian made an excuse that he wanted to check on his mother. Actually, he did, and after they hugged and kissed, he went back to his room; he paced the stone floors, mad and happy at Pris—mad that she would put herself at risk—and happy that she was alive.

Soon, he found that he was crying. He wiped his face ferociously to keep it dry, but the tears kept coming. He wouldn’t allow anyone to see him cry. He was the future king and kings didn’t cry.

So, he went through the secret passageway and to the fireplace, now unlit, where the war room was.

After an hour of assailing the Harpies and trying to burn down the Haunted Forest, the king’s plans had failed. Yes, many Harpies had died, but the ultimate goal—burning down the forest—had been a huge failure.

“I’m happy to report that no man died,” said the high-pitched knight Julian had heard before.

“That is some comfort,” said King Titus. “Still…I didn’t think the rain would stop from even a few trees burning.”

“When it clears, we can try again,” said the soft-spoken knight.“We must try again. We must!” said King Titus. “I want these Harpies

and their rotten forest destroyed once and for all!”

After the war council adjourned, Julian sat on the cold stone floor and wept. When no more tears would come, he finally left and went to check on Max and Pris.

The castle infirmary was a large room, full of beds and tables for medical instruments. It was usually a very quiet room.

“I’m fine, I tell you! I’m fine!” Pris shouted at the nurses.Pris was still dressed in her clothes--men’s clothes—refusing to wear the

white infirmary gown. The nurse just threw her hands up and said, “Enough!” and walked

away.

Max stood next to her bed, looking worried. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Because I am,” she replied with clenched teeth.“You should rest,” said Julian in a soft voice, glad to see Pris was her

usual spunky self.“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” she said, rising up.Julian had to hold back his tears, his sorrow. Just to hear her say, “when

I’m dead,” was like his heart being ripped out by a clawed Harpy.She shooed Max out of her way and got off the bed. As she adjusted her clothes, she kept her head down, and said, “I want

to thank you for helping me.” Her voice was so soft, it was almost a whisper.She finally looked up and focused on Max. “Thanks, brother,” she said,

giving him a small smile.Julian could tell Max was holding back his tears too.He shook his head. “Just don’t do it again,” he said sternly.“I can’t promise you that.”“Pris!” Max fumed. “Why do you constantly feel the need to put yourself

in danger?”“Why do you constantly feel the need to run away from danger?” she

countered.Max just threw up his hands and started to walk away.“Wait,” said Julian to Max. Max halted and turned around. “Yes, my prince?”Julian ignored his respectful tone. “Let’s not fight, all right? There are

more important things going on at the moment.”“What do you know?” asked Max, walking back to Julian and Pris.Julian looked around at the attending nurses. “Not here,” he said. Max snapped his fingers in the air and smiled. “The library. We can talk

there. No one goes in there.”Pris rolled her eyes. “Because it’s the library. Who’d want to go in

there?”

“Actually,” began Julian, “that’s an excellent place to go.” He turned to Max. “How many of the ancient scrolls have you translated?”

Max shrugged. “Just a few. There are thousands upon thousands in there. Why?”

“I want to know more about these Harpies.”“But we know everything there is to know, don’t we?” asked Pris.Julian shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t think we know anything at all.”When they arrived at the castle library, it was just as Pris had predicted:

the room was deserted. The library was huge, shaped in a circle, with books at the very bottom,

reaching all the way to the very top. The room was divided into several floors, accessible by stairs.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” said Max, smiling, admiring the view.“It’s boring,” said Pris, with her arms folded against her chest.“Well, maybe we’ll find you a nice picture book, Pris,” said Max

sarcastically.Pris reared her fist back, ready to hit her brother, but winched in pain,

and then lowered her arm.Julian reached out and held her hurt arm gently in his hand. “Pris,” he

began softly, “you should be resting.”To his surprise, she jerked her arm from his hand. “Ow,” she said,

rubbing her unseen wound. Then she turned to Julian. “Stop telling me what to do!”

“You apologize to the prince,” said Max, angrily pointing his finger at her.

“You can’t tell me what to do either,” she said nastily.“Enough!” barked Julian. Max and Pris stared at him in disbelief. He had never raised his voice

like that before. But he was so tired of all the fighting. And he was upset that Pris wouldn’t let him comfort her.

“There are evil monsters just over there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the Western Wall. “And you two would rather fight each other!”

“I did fight them!” countered Pris, staring into Julian’s big blue eyes. She was standing so close to him that Julian could see a little green

mixed with her brown eyes. It was beautiful.“I killed them,” she continued angrily. “And they almost killed you,” said Julian in a soft voice. He wanted to reach up and caress her cheek, still a bit black from the

dead ashes of the Harpies, but he didn’t.She took a step back and shrugged. “So what if they did? Why am I so

special?”Max threw up his hands. “I’m tired of having this same old argument.”

He turned to Julian. “What would you like me to do here?”Julian didn’t want to talk to Max. He wanted to plead with Pris, to tell

her that she was special, and that if she were to die, it would be like he’d died too.

But he turned away from her and looked at Max. “I want to find every ancient scroll there is about the Harpies, about the Haunted Forest, and about the old world…the world that existed even before our great-grandfathers were born.”

“What are you looking for?” asked Pris in a gentle tone.Julian turned back to her and saw a look of understanding on her face.

She was curious too. “A way to defeat them once and for all.”