CHAPTER ONE

They came in lines five by five hundred, banners whipping savagely in the cold northern wind, helms reflecting the light of the winter moons. They were called the ‘Mantar’, or ‘wanderers’, they were an outcast group dedicated to get justice for the wrongs committed against them by the government and king of Tabalath.

But these were no farmers, thieves, or commoners. These were strong fighters, built from hard work and training who knew how to read and wright. Their ancestors were once members of the king’s elite army, scholars in their own right- men who would have lived and died to serve their king. But instead their dignity had been stripped away, and they had been unfairly prosecuted, their children and their children’s children sentenced to an eternal exile.

Their leader, the king’s nephew Atlantis Calmcar, stood on the top of a knoll watching his troops carefully for signs of weakness or weariness. He had driven them to their limits and he knew they needed rest, but this couldn’t wait. His silver white hair whipped around his shoulders in the winds, obsidian eyes void of emotion as he absently fingered the hilt of his sword.

The lieutenant of his army approached him carefully; wary of his king’s often unpredictable mood.

"Sir, the envoy is in sight. Even now they are several leagues from Endoros forest."

The Prince of the Outcasts smiled bitterly.

"Very well, collect a band of five and set off for the castle." From within his winter cloak he handed the other man a scroll tied with a strip of leather. "Deliver this message when you are within sight of their faces. Take Deloah." he commanded, referring to the small merlin falcon he often used when delivering important messages. "I wouldn’t trust any other with this message."

When the man had gone, Atlantis turned a grim expression toward the west, toward the envoy holding the one precious gem that held all the lands of Arthen-Gäla in a trance. The crown prince of Tabalath: Samados Memrik.

Atlantis mounted his horse and thundered down the slope, calling out names as he galloped through the camp. Today would give him but the first bite of victory.

"Peithdlea! Scyth! Fisclur! Sundwell!"

Various men broke their rank and mounted their steeds, galloping after their leader without question, without protest. Just as he had trained them. Grinning broadly he unsheathed his sword and let loose a blood curdling war cry. His men gave hoots, and shouts, as they formed two lines behind him, brandishing their weapons dangerously.

It was in such a fashion that they descended upon the small band of soldiers surrounding a well guarded traveling carriage. With screams and war calls they impaled the hearts of their enemies, swiftly gaining the upper hand with their ambush.

Atlantis parried a blow, deftly swinging around in his saddle to catch his assailant in the upper arm, severing it to the bone. The heat of battle around him, he leapt off his horse, ducking around the carriage and climbing through the half open door.

On the floor, dazed and bleeding the prince looked up and immediately drew his jeweled dagger defensively. Atlantis laughed mirthlessly as he made himself comfortable on the cushioned seat across from the royal.

"Really cousin, I would have thought a better welcome than that was in order. After all the trouble I went to, preparing this surprise party for you," he made a gesture toward the curtains on either side of him.

The prince stared at him incredulously for a moment, plainly listening to the sounds of battle drift through the thick curtain, mentally flinching at the scream as someone met their violent death. Still holding the jeweled dagger in his hand he watched as his cousin cleaned his sword on one of the lavish silk pillow, sheathing it with a grim look.

"You will pay," he said angrily, shaking the dagger at him threateningly.

"I always do" he replied ironically, tracing a line on his hilt with his index finger.

"My father will come for me and you will hang -"he spat at Atlantis’ boots -"if I don’t get to you first. Your blood will defile the earth!" he cried, lunging forward with the dagger.

Easily sidestepping the foolish attack, Atlantis grabbed the wrist holding the dagger and easily removed the sharp object.

‘Tisking’ to himself he waved the dagger in the prince’s face and said mockingly, "Didn’t your mother ever tell you to be careful with these? I suggest you be a bit more tactful next time you want to kill me."

Sheathing the dagger in his own belt, Atlantis grabbed the younger prince’s arm and shoved him out into the crisp morning air.

But instead of the battle that had been raging only minutes before, there were two lines of soldiers at attention, creating a walkway for Atlantis to push the young royal ahead of him.

Pushing him into the care of a lieutenant with clear grey eyes and wispy blonde hair, Atlantis turned his back on him and spoke to another soldier standing rigidly by his horse.