A New Horizon

Chapter One

The bells stopped ringing the night prior to the summons. It seemed the entire kingdom had gone as quiet as death. Dantalion turned his eyes to the trees and then lingered his gaze over the skyline, but he heard nothing and saw not a single bird. There was something ominous in this silence, as if death's devastating touch had taken more than just the youthful king with it. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and continued to trudge through the fallen leaves until he neared closer to the old, great tower where he used to spend many evenings and nights with the king.

His steps slowed to a halt, reminding himself that Solomon was not the one awaiting him in the cozy library with the fireplace aglow and the two of them alone, talking about the future of the kingdom and holding each other as the flames burned out at the crack of dawn. He would find no more comfort here. Solomon's belongings would only remind him of what he lost and what the grieving country had lost.

But it was too cold to linger outside with his anguish and whatever meaning behind the summons would not wait on his own terms. He wasn't a confidant of a royal anymore. A knight, though celebrated, still had to follow orders. Each remaining step he took felt as heavy as iron.

He was about to reach to open the tower's heavy door when someone from the inside pushed it ajar. Dantalion caught of glimpse of the man's face, but said nothing.

"Don't loiter out there, Sir Dantalion," said the man with a gruff voice. "They are all waiting for you to come inside. You best come along now or they'll find someone else for the task and I'm sure you don't want that."

Dantalion set his jaw as he came through the doorway. He could hear the hushed chatter of men down the corridor. These old stone walls with dark shadows lingering behind every nook and cranny hid nothing except what was already made history. He followed the man, a guard, at a safe, practiced distance.

Despite the summons he received with the king's familiar waxed signal, he could not help but to be wary of the circumstances. Meetings of this sort of secrecy would either lead to a dangerous mission, which he had become accustomed to, or an assassination. There were many noblemen who would embrace a purge of Solomon's favorites and Dantalion was the chief among them.

At the end of the corridor, the guard abruptly stopped and turned to Dantalion. He said not a word, but rapped on the wooden door in consecutive threes. The voices on the other side of the door fell quiet and within seconds the door creaked open.

Eyeing the entrance of the room, Dantalion glanced to the guard and then stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him. He arched his head, taking in every sound from the howl of the wind to the clawing of rats, hearing nothing to heighten his alarm.

Five men were huddled at the long table near the fireplace. They were nobles or perhaps distant relatives of Solomon and his court judging from the fine clothes they wore and the jewels around their fingers. The goblets were full of wine, suggesting they had been here for some time. Dantalion stared at the five in a dull stupor and thought of the knife tucked in his boot. Noblemen weren't the kind to do their own dirty work, but men were not to be judged by face value alone. Solomon taught him as much. He felt he had learned many secrets of the world just from being in the presence of that one man. One man and his fragile existence.

Finally, a balding man stood to his feet, bracing his balance with a hand pressed against the surface of the table. The table once was used for sharing of secrets and the unfurling of parchments which Solomon could trust that no other eyes would see here where the comfort loving court didn't roam. Dantalion balled his hands into fists at his sides.

"Thank you for your punctuality, Sir Dantalion," crooned the noble, earning laughter from those around him. "I believe you took your time coming here tonight unless you misplaced yourself again."

"It's a long walk from the village, Lord Gallegos, though I doubt you would know that." Dantalion strode towards the head of the table, eyeing each face. "I'm here now, so why don't you start explaining exactly why I was called here in the first place. I'm sure you're all eager to return to your manors and to your wives—and mistresses."

Lord Gallegos, apparently the spokesman of the group, nodded and offered Dantalion a glass of wine. Dantalion rejected it with a wave of his hand.

"As you—ah—are aware of the throne is empty," said Gallegos. "—and we, of course, must see that it doesn't remain that way. Solomon is disregarding or should I say had disregarded the line of succession and chosen his own heir, which is why we've summoned you."

Dantalion furrowed his brows as he processed the nobleman's word. He tried to recall a time when he and Solomon might have discussed the topic of succession. No such memory came to mind. He believed it unlikely that Solomon thought of his own death, at least so soon in the prime of his life. Dantalion knew he himself hadn't thought of it, didn't want to think of it, not even now.

He shook his head and sighed. How was it that his king could surprise him even in death? "Solomon chose his own heir?" he spoke, meaning it more as a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, it's certainly shocking. I'm sure all of us here are all the more confounded that you didn't know. However, the words are spelled out in his last will and testament rather clearly. His heir is someone called Twining."

"William Twining," said another man, one of the oldest among them. "He doesn't even have a title. I'd imagine he might be a bastard child. The village of Rosethorn has historically had its share of them."

"Of whom I wonder? He must have some royal blood to be considered worthy enough for Solomon to choose him, after all," speculated another while emptying his goblet.

Dantalion listened as the men continued to question the origin of the heir apparent's name. He moved to the fireplace to warm his hands, pretending the last few days were only a series of bad dreams. Pretending was always easier. It was something else he had in common with the king.

"Nonetheless, we must find this Twining and put him on the throne," stressed Lord Gallegos with finality. He turned to look upon Dantalion, the knight's back facing him. "This is where you come in, Sir Dantalion, we're trusting you to find this heir of Solomon's and bring him back here so that the kingdom's distress can be put at ease. People start to panic when a sovereign dies and there's yet to be a replacement. I'm sure you understand this. We don't want another rebellion, a fight for the crown again."

What was it to him if the kingdom burned or if a power hungry bastard took over it? Dantalion thought he could simply walk away and live out the remainder of his life as a nomad, but doing so would tarnish the legacy that Solomon left behind. He could do this one last thing for him, and then he'd be free. Whatever freedom would mean for someone like himself. A man tormented by much and comforted by so little.

Dantalion turned and gazed down at the men. They now watched him in silence. "If I go and collect this man, what payment will you offer me? You can't be naive enough to believe that all problems will simply vanish once someone whom many will call a pretender takes the throne. If anything, your fellow noblemen will organize a movement to seize control. Are you prepared for that?"

Two of the men avoided Dantalion's gaze, however the other three weren't surprised by his words. They knew the kind of man Solomon's favorite was and that's why they had called him above all else.

Lord Gallegos spoke once more, "We're aware of the consequences and failure might be one of them. Many of us cannot accept rulership from those already trying to claim it. You may not know this yet, but a neighboring kingdom is already making plans to invade. We need a king. Solomon must have made this choice for a reason. And we'll do all in our power to make you a duke, a grand duke even."

He would be lying to himself if he thought the payment wasn't an attractive one. With a title meant money and lands, he would make a name for himself. At least one that was more than the one he carried heavy on his shoulders already.

"I will find this William Twining."