The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Forty-Two: The Shadow War

It was just hours after Rengle Fallaner received the word of the advancing Morcars that the news was brought to the attention of Prince Tauron. At that point the Prince had been dealing with getting his men out of Rainguard and how he wished he could join them. He hated Rainguard. It was much more cramped and claustrophobic than any other castle he had ever been in. It had to be so that it would all fit on the North bank of the river. The widest hall allowed just barely four men to walk abreast. around every corner there were stairs that he had to climb and there were so many soldiers that he could not get any time to himself outside his room. And eve then he had to deal with the presence of Robert Oaran. He wished the boy had somewhere else to go, but there was not a spare square yard in this whole castle.

It had gotten better in the last few days after nearly twelve thousand troops had been removed. At least he could walk for more than a few seconds without bumping into a sleepy guard.

The letter was brought to him by Robert along with his supper. Though Horith often invited the Prince to dine with him in his tower, Tauron sought to be away from that pompous old creeper as much as possible. Horith was every bit as repulsive as all the lords around him said he would be. He gave Tauron barely any respect worthy of a Prince, bragged on and on about the power of the Westland and even repeated his comments about how the Westland was loyal to the crown only by his own grace.

And so when Tauron received news that the enemy was finally coming, he found himself more excited than worried. Now it was time for the real fight to begin. Where he would put his name in the histories and bring glory to House Heflite. The next few weeks will decide the fate of Tauron Heflite, of the Westland and all of Liticea. Rengle in that little keep held the future in his hands. The Prince ordered Robert to pen a reply.

"Write this for Lord Rengle: I thank you for the information you have sent me. I entrust the tip of our spear to you, my Lord Rengle, and you must hold with it. at all costs hold that hill. Any reinforcements you require shall be provided by Archbaron Clayton Blackwell or myself. Write to Lord Clayton as well to me of any information that you feel need knowing. The best of luck to you and the Ruskamen. I trust you will hold for your King, for your lands, and for Liticea."

Robert signed it in the name of Prince Tauron and took it away to be handed off to a courier.

More time had passed that Tauron spent in front of the fireplace. His arrival at Raingard allowed him a fresh supply of Leaf. Along with boasting, the Westlanders were good at making substances to take stress off one's mind. One individual leaf made enough smoke to keep the Prince busy for an hour. This approaching horde gave the Prince even more things to worry about than he already had. He and Killian were able to weed some information out of their Morcar prisoner. Wrorc Maegarc was of noble birth, but was only a distant relative of the Morcar King. He was of minor nobility, but he was entrusted with the fifteen thousand men to take Rainguard. The Morcars believed the real fight would be in the south since it is more densely populated than the north. Tauron even asked what would happen to him if he ever returned home. He said he would be branded as a failure, but he also stated that before he returned to Morcarland he would redeem himself and he vowed to bring the armies of Liticea to their knees.

They were also able to get a little word of the Morcar King's court. Wrorc said that he visited the court before he left and said that there was stranger sitting near the King, too close for any mere stranger. He did not have the wild look associated with the Morcars, but was rather more comely like a Spartican. Wrorc also described an emblem on his cloths. A badge with a butterfly or a moth. This is what interested the Prince the most given that to him and others in Syandor and beyond the moth is considered a symbol of death. When asked why this man was sitting next to his King, Wroc said he did not have any answers.