Esben knelt in the dirt, heaving totatoes out of the ground and shoving them into the sack next to him. The work soothed his spirit. It helped him to focus on something besides Aunt Illia’s absence.
“Excuse me? Your Highness?”
Glancing up, Esben saw the girl Artham had been dancing with the night before standing beside him. “Hi.” He rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt on his trousers. “Just call me Esben. You’re Arundelle, right?”
She smiled and blushed. “I am.” Ducking her head, she added, “I sent to tell you that the Moon Raider was spotted on the horizon. King Jru and Queen Nala shall be home soon.”
A surge of relief swept over Esben.
“Thank the Maker,” he said. “And thank you for telling me.”
“Of course.” With another small smile and a quick curtsey, Arundelle departed.
“She’s pretty, don’t you think?” asked a voice from behind Esben.
He spun around to see Artham behind him, his own sack of totatoes slung over his shoulder. “Well. I guess so.”
“She’s Lord Tobias and Lady Rubry’s daughter. I think you’d like her, she’s very nice. She loves poetry and writes some herself.”
“I see.” Esben waggled his eyebrows at his brother and grinned. “So you’re kindred spirits, huh?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Artham told him warningly.
Esben chuckled. “I’ll try.”
The two boys carried their sacks to the wagon, bid farewell to the farmer, and returned to Castle Rysen to freshen up before their parents returned.
. . . .
“Esben! Artham!” Queen Nala wrapped her sons into a tight embrace as soon as she entered the castle, kissing their heads. “Did you hear the news?” Her eyes swam with tears.
“We heard,” Artham agreed, hugging his mother back.
“Papa!” Esben pulled away from his mother and raced to greet his father. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Jru’s eyes were shadowed with grief. “My sons,” he murmured, pulling both of them and his wife into a hug of his own. “I’m glad I’m home too.”
. . . .
His black shirt was too big. That was because it was Artham’s extra, but he was using it because there wasn’t time to get it replaced before the funeral.
“Stop messing with it,” Artham hissed from beside him.
Esben ignored him. He was twisting a small bit of the long train between his fingers. If he didn’t, Esben was certain he would go crazy. At least the funeral was almost over. He had loved his Aunt Illia, but the private family memorial service had been the night before. Now he was ready to forget she was dead and hold on to all the love and care she had left behind.
As soon as the parson stopped talking, the people formed a line, shuffling by the royal family and offering their condolences. Esben nodded, smiled, and spoke to each one, hardly knowing what he was doing or saying. His mind was elsewhere.
Once the courtyard was deserted, his family retired to the castle. Esben was walking behind his brother when he suddenly tensed.
“What’s wrong?” Esben began, but Artham was already spinning around and tackling him into a corner. Someone leapt from one of the rafters that crisscrossed the high-vaulted corridor ceiling. He landed on the floor, dressed entirely in black, with a cloth tied around his face, but Esben could see the tell-tale red marking around the man’s eyes that declared him a fearsome Wanderer of the Woes.
“Papa!” he shouted, squirming against Artham’s grip holding him back. “Look out!”
The king was calling for guards and drawing his own sword, but it was already too late. The assassin raised his dart gun, taking aim at the king.
“No!” Artham suddenly released Esben and sprang forward. “Papa!”
This time it was Esben who caught his brother’s arm.
“Boys, run!” Nala shouted, dashing towards her husband.
Jru slashed his sword at the assassin, who dodged. The dart gun shot twice. First the king, then the queen crumpled one after the other to the ground.
“NO!”
Both boys reacted as one. Without thought, without realizing what they were doing, they charged the assassin. A red veil had descended on their world. They tackled the shocked Wanderer, knocking the dart gun from his hand and pummeling him with their fists.
Only when the strong arms of soldiers pulled them away from the man did they realize that they had knocked him unconscious. Tears were shed without shame at the sight of the king and queen’s bodies.
It doesn’t matter anymore, Esben thought miserably. Their aunt was dead. Their parents were dead. The brothers were alone.
Chapter VI