DREAMWIELDER Book 1 of The Dreamwielder Chronicles

Chapter 2: VISIONS OF FIRE

Prince Caile Delios of Pyrthinia reigned in his horse and called for his men to halt.

"What is it?" asked Lorentz, the captain of Caile's honor guard, which numbered only five including Lorentz.

Caile shielded his eyes against the sun and stared down the long ribbon of road stretching before them between vast fields of wild grasses. "Someone is coming."

Lorentz followed his gaze, but saw nothing. "Your eyes are better than mine then. Shall we take cover, Your Highness?"

Caile smiled. Lorentz had been his protector for as long as he could remember, and the two of them had long ago dispensed with addressing each other formally except when in the presence of royalty and dignitaries. "We're not in Valaróz anymore," Caile chided him. "These are Pyrthin fields around us."

"And those were Pyrthin badlands ten days ago when we were attacked," Lorentz reminded him. "It's been five years. Things change, even Pyrthinia."

Caile frowned at being reminded of the skirmish in the badlands. It had not ended well for the highwaymen who attacked them. The bandits were poorly armed and weak with hunger, and though Caile had taken pity on them, he could not in good conscience leave highwaymen behind to harry travelers on the high road.

"We're wardens of the realm," Caile said, as much to himself as to Lorentz. "We have a code of honor to uphold. I'd sooner wear a dress than take cover in our own lands."

Lorentz smiled. "If memory serves me, I seem to recall your sister putting you in a dress not so many years ago. I believe she was teaching you ballroom etiquette."

Caile turned to glare at his captain, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a partial smile, betraying his feigned anger. "That is vile hearsay, Captain," he said, drawing his sword melodramatically. "Now if you're quite finished with your japes..."

Caile commanded his mount forward with a yell, and his men spurred their horses behind him. It soon became apparent to all of them that Caile was correct; a group of mounted warriors was approaching, a score of them at least—too many to defeat if it came down to a fight. Caile did not hesitate, however, even though he knew Lorentz would lecture him later about charging an unidentified force.

The group of horsemen in the distance halted upon seeing Caile approach and raised a banner displaying the red and gold stripes of Pyrthinia. Still, Caile charged onward, sword in hand, ready for trouble. He could be reckless at times, he knew, but he was wary and paid more heed to Lorentz's advice than he let on. The Pyrthinian banner meant nothing; the armed horsemen could just as easily be highwaymen under guise as they could be official Pyrthinian troops. Only when Caile saw a face he recognized did he slow his mount and return his sword to its scabbard—and the face he saw brought a smile to his own.

"Well, little brother," his sister, Taera, remarked when he and his men finally came to a halt, "are you in such a hurry to be home that you meant to charge through a whole score of Pyrthinia's finest soldiers and your own sister to get there?"

Caile dismounted and said nothing as he walked over to her and pulled her from her saddle in a bear hug. Taera squealed, thinking the both of them would topple over, but her brother was no longer the skinny boy she remembered last seeing. He lowered her to the ground with ease, and the two of them held each other in a warm embrace.

"You shrunk," Caile said.

"Or you've grown. Five years and I hardly recognize you. Is that the beginnings of a beard I see? Have you started shaving, Caile?"

Lorentz cleared his throat. "Once a month, whether he needs it or not, Your Highness."

Caile shot Lorentz a dark expression, but Taera laughed and spoke before Caile could come up with a retort. "Captain Lorentz, it's a pleasure to see you again," she said.