Excerpt: Sibling Rivalry

Rune was riding through the great oak forest when he felt someone land on the back of his horse, which reared. Before he could grab his sword, a hand in a black glove grabbed his left wrist and a long dagger went to his throat.
“Do not make me have to kill you, young prince,” whispered a voice in his ear.
From behind thick trees appeared three more riders on dark horses, two of them aiming crossbows at him. The riders wore black clothes and black shrouds. Rune’s heart sank as his muscles went limp.
“Throw down his sword,” the apparent leader said in a half whisper.
The man behind him took Rune’s sword from its scabbard and threw it to the ground. He quickly did the same with Rune’s dagger as well. One of the crossbowmen slid out of his saddle and walked over to the prince’s horse as the man behind him took the dagger away from his throat and also slid to the ground. Rune tried to spur his horse and get out of there, but there was a sharp pain in his right shoulder and as he cried out, the two men near him yanked him from the horse and threw him down hard. He was still crying and writhing in pain, trying to yank the quarrel out of him when the tip of the other crossbow’s quarrel touched his temple.
“That was incredibly stupid of you, your highness,” the leader whispered as Rune stared at him with wide, blue eyes, “If you value your life, I would not try stunts like that again.”
Rune could hear his pale horse running off as two of the men snatched him to his feet and began binding his hands. He glared at the leader as he was searched and the note found and handed over.
“If you are expecting me to tell you anything,” Rune said slowly, thinking of what words he had to say in merchant’s cant, “you will be disappointed. I do not even know what is in the note.”
The leader tore the note up, to Rune’s astonishment, ‘I do not care what you know, just that this is not seen by the King of Stromgald.”
“How shall we kill him,” one of the others whispered.
“We won’t.”
“But we were told-“
“And give up a huge ransom?”
“If Prince Arn sees-“
“Shut up, you idiot!”
Rune felt a withering within upon hearing his half brother’s name uttered by such men and that he was ordered to be killed. He wished at this moment they would kill him and get it over with.
“The King is going to mourn the disappearance of his youngest, beloved son. However, the Emperor of Bast will pay dearly for a prince of the Norlands. Especially when we get through selling him. Get him on the horse and cover his head!”
A dark bag was placed over Rune’s head and he could feel three of the men grabbing his arms, body and legs and hoisting him upon one of the horses. One of the men climbed upon behind him, took the reins and followed his companions out of the forest.
When Rune’s horse returned to the castle with blood on its saddle, Runa panicked and mounted her own horse, racing into the forest with Kjell and several guardsmen in pursuit. She found her twin brother’s weapons and more blood and the torn note and attempted to search the forest, but Kjell took her away, instead ordering the men to gather a search party and search not just the forest, but the lands all over around the castle. Nothing could be found in the days after and Runa became inconsolable, convinced something evil had happened to him.
Arn played his part well, grieving for his half brother in public and showing compassion the best he could for his half sister, but inside enjoying Jared and Sigurd weeping for him as if he were dead. Even Arn thought he was dead and that the body had been taken elsewhere.
Dafydd came to the despairing Runa one evening as Tarja and Kaisa attempted to comfort her. He sat with the three as the weeped and he smiled sadly to them, ‘As you know, my mother was a seer from Nemh. I have some of her powers. I am going to reassure you of something-Rune is still alive.”
Runa glared red-eyed at him, “Do not jest with me!”
Kaisa and tarja were getting ready to let loose a barrage of accusations and insults, but he raised his palm calmly to them, “You have known me all your life, Runa, and you and Rune are dear to me. Would I say anything at all to hurt you?”
She began sobbing again, putting her head on his shoulder, “I wished it were true.”
“It is…I feel him. He is in trouble, but he is alive,” he stroked her red-sheened brown hair.

Rune was brought before the Governor of the province of Bast that intruded into the sea of Mystics region. He was pushed and pulled about as he was brought into the palace and guided through the maze of halls until he was forced to stop and was shoved roughly to his knees. The hood was removed and his ice blue eyes met the bloodshot black ones of the Bastian Governor.
“What is this,” the Governor sighed, “You bring before me a scrawny, filthy horse warrior?”
“Not just any scrawny, filthy horse warrior, my lord,” the leader, a tall, scarred faced bald man laughed, “This is one of the Sons of Sigurd-a Prince of Fantoft!”
“Which one?”
“Prince Rune,” Rune’s captor beamed, “He was captured delivering a message to your foe, the King of Stromgald.”
Rune rolled his eyes. He could see where this was going.
“Delivering a message,” the Governor perked up, “to Stromgald?”
“He was given battle plans to deliver to the king so as to repel your invasion. However, he destroyed those plans when we shot him with the quarrel.”
“You left the quarrel in him?”
“Of course,” the bald man beamed, “We did not have someone who could remove the quarrel without causing severe harm to him and we figured, with what information he might know, it would be very bad if he bled to death before we brought him to you.”
“That would be very bad indeed,” the Governor added, “And he is Sigurd’s son?”
“His youngest son, mind you, but still a prince of Fantoft!”
The Governor’s eyes again met Rune’s and he spoke through his teeth, “I owe your father a special debt for defeating me and killing my eldest son ten years ago. You are going to be the lucky soul who I shall repay that debt upon.”
“Whatever,” Rune said in a trembling voice, “I am not afraid of death.”
“Death,” laughed the Governor, “Noooo…not death. Death would mean your suffering and humiliation will be over too quickly. No-I am first going to beat out of your skinny ass whatever secrets are in that head of yours. Then, you will serve me after I crush your spirit. You will become a slave-and not just any slave, but you will be chained to an oar of one of my lord’s warships and you will aid us in defeating the Norlands. And when I finally capture your father and brothers, I will let them see the pathetic thing you will become and then, I’ll kill you. In front of them.”
Rune swallowed as the Governor took him by the throat, “How much for Sigurd’s baby boy?”
“A hundred thou-“
The Governor shot a glare and several guards pointed spears at Rune’s captors.
“Um,” the bald man reconsidered, “Five thousand gold.”
“Mordenchai,” ordered the Governor, “Take these men to get their reward.”
As Mordenchai, a meek man in robes, walked out the four captors of Rune, the Governor spoke softly to one of his elite guard, “Be certain I see their heads on the castle walls within the hour.”
“Yes, my lord,” the guard, with about ten others, walked quietly out of the chamber, leaving the Governor alone with Rune.
The two glared at each other for a few minutes before the guards returned, wiping blood and gore from their swords.
“Now, take this one down into the dungeon and cripple him. The last thing I want is to have my prize run off on me before the fun begins. Oh, yes-have a doctor remove the quarrel carefully from his right shoulder-he needs to be able to row a warship, after all, and we need him to be able to keep up with the others.”
The guards took him by his bound arms and his legs and carried him to first the doctor, who gingerly cut out and bandaged Rune’s injury, treating it by cauterizing it with a piece of hot metal that caused the young prince to scream in pain. Then he was walked into the dungeon, where he was chained to a chair and his right foot put into an iron boot. Slowly, the interrogator there turned screws in the device. Rune struggled and cried out as every bone in his foot was crushed and broken. He passed out before they had finished.
A cold rush of water hitting him woke him up and as he gasped in shock and blinked to focus, the Governor gazed down at him, “Don’t you die on me now, Rune. I’ve not even begun to work on you.”