Civilians of Queensend were fast asleep.
Rain drizzled throughout the night; the steady pitter patter of droplets against rooftops lulling even the most attentive guards into nodding off. Children snuggled against the warmth of their mothers under cozy blankets, stomachs full and hearts light.
Past midnight, rain faded too, enveloping the small town in cool tranquility that was only broken by the plink of rain drops falling from eaves into puddles below. An owl hooted in the distance, somewhere a dog howled at the full moon peeking through raven clouds.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
The wild clang of the tolling bell roared through the night, its desperate pleas waking Gods in heavens above.
The bell, that had been silent for three long years.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
Men flooded into streets, weapons in hands, locking the doors after them to keep families safe. The dark town illuminated with torches, smell of burning oil permeating the crisp air.
"What happened?" a troubled voice asked another.
"Another attack?"
"After three years?"
Patrolling guards sprinted, tearing through the mass gathered in the streets.
"Move! Move!"
Their boots sloshed as they stomped over the mud, one even slipped and fell. He picked himself up and bolted behind the squad, his face marred with tangible terror.
The sea of heads parted at the familiar neigh, making way for the galloping white horse and the woman riding it. With a commanding pull of the reins, she brought it to an abrupt halt. The beast reared its front hooves high into the air and snorted in agitation.
She was the face every Queensend folk knew and loved- children and elderly alike. She sat poised and steady among the commotion. The hem of her night gown was blotched with mud and blood, dainty feet bare even in the biting cold. The river of brown hair stuck to her skin, drenched in the rain. Only a white overcoat carrying a golden threaded head of stag protected her from the chill.
Her hazel eyes darted around, from one concerned face to another. The tension in her shoulders tightened further in disapproval.
"Please don't crowd the street." Her voice was gentle, yet its firm tone made the cobblestone path clear in an instant.
"Please stay on high alert," she ordered. "We are looking for two disguised attackers. One slightly taller than me and very dangerous. The other about this tall, fast but lacks in close range combat." She held her hand up and winced.
"Do not confront them alone, alarm the squads immediately."
Everyone nodded in unison, sun scorched faces set firm with determination.
"We are closing the borders. Split and search every corner of Queensend. They couldn't have gotten far."
"Is it the East?" a voice asked from the gathering, laden with venom. "What happened, Lady Ayla?"
The future queen of North sucked air through her teeth and regarded the crowd. "We don't know yet. But capital was informed, back up is on the way. We must find them before dawn."
Hushed whispers rose and fell before her voice pierced through again.
"They took the princess from her chambers."
And all hell broke loose.
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YOU ARE READING
The God's Game
Fantasy"I'm dying" Raven lamented. "only a kiss of true love can save me " "Best I can do is a high five of semi- cordiality" After a lifetime of house arrest, River Verlice attends his niece's first birthday banquet, expecting nothing more than a quiet e...
