Chapter One

    The rain drummed relentlessly against the ground trying but failing to turn the world into a vast lake. Brilliant flashes of lightning scorched the black sky overhead, while thunder bellowed forth unanswered challenges. In the darkness of the farthest stall of the servants’ stable a small boy shivered and held back tears. Though the air was cold, it wasn’t the temperature that made the boy shake. He knew there were only precious moments left before he was found. He could hear shouts being called out followed by quick responses. The hunters were slowly making their way toward their prey. If he were found they would taunt him before bruising him. Nothing too severe for it was still a crime to injure a member of the royal family. But his brother was one of the boys outside searching. That meant they could get away with far more than was allowed. The king would laugh it off and say it was the way of things. Boys would be boys after all. He always said that and then praised his oldest for being such a fine tracker. The royal court would applaud and the minstrels would sing his praises. All the while, they would sneer at the poor battered boy and quietly laugh at him. The songs sung about him were cruel and mocking and somehow never managed to reach the ears of the king. His name was Bradan. He was the second son and fifth child of King Aedan and Queen Aine. He was also the last child they ever had. Something no one ever let him forget.
    He paused and listened. The boys were close now. Something banged hard against the side of the stable and spooked the few horses inside. It was probably a rock. They had figured out he was in there hiding. Knowing time was almost out he returned his attention to the work at hand. He used a small knife to pry the bottom nails from a corner plank. The knife wasn’t sharp; it was an ornamental piece he was forced to carry. All his siblings had similar items to help show off the king’s wealth. It was encrusted with a few semiprecious jewels and the blade was finely crafted if a bit too dull. Of course his brother, being older, was allowed to carry a real knife as well as a short sword at his side. Well if the knife he had wasn’t good for fighting then he’d use it to save his hide another way. He had spent many days and as many nights sneaking to this stall and other locations. Knowing one day he would probably wind up in this very situation, he had scouted the royal grounds for possible escape routes. Dodging the stable master and his workers hadn’t been easy but he had managed to get back here on several occasions. He had taken that time and used it to loosen the nails on the plank and lay straw about to hide any evidence of his work. Now the nails at the bottom slid out easily and the board pulled forward.
    Crawling on all fours, he risked moving to the stall’s entrance. He lowered his head so it was nearly touching the ground and peered out. He counted four boys silhouetted against the open stable doors. The largest silhouette held some type of stick in his hand. That one would be Donal, his only brother and heir to the throne. Panic started to build up inside his chest. The counting wasn’t right. Usually there were six of his brother’s friends amusing themselves by helping in the chase. Either three hadn’t made it or, most likely, they were somewhere close by. Suddenly someone stepped out of the first stall on the right. Two more shapes emerged from the left stall.  Yeah, there were seven all right. Apparently those three were meticulously searching each stall while the others waited at the entrance, conveniently blocked the only exit. There was no way he could ever get by them but hopefully he wouldn’t have to try.
    There were still several stalls to be searched before reaching his. That hopefully gave him the few minutes he needed. Darting back over to the corner, he gently lifted up on the freed board. It pulled up without a sound. Going feet first, he inched his way through the gap. He wanted to hurry but he knew any sound he made might be heard over the rain. If that happened he was done for. A few heartbeats later he was through to the other side. He let the board quietly fall back into place. The rain was falling fast and hard. He slowly stood, taking this brief moment to steady his nerves. Three feet separated the stable wall and the wall that made the defensive ring surrounding the castle. He knew he couldn’t stay here long. There was no telling if the boys had already looked down this alleyway or not. He already knew he couldn’t risk that possibility nor could he hope to run past them without being seen and caught. That left only one choice now made harder thanks to the rain. He said a quiet prayer before beginning the next part of his escape. He faced down the alley with the stable wall on his left and the ring on his right. This would allow him to see anyone coming. He stretched his hands and legs out against the walls and pushed upward. Slowly and awkwardly he began to climb. He used his legs to push up the sides and brace his weight while his hands searched for any leverage either wall was willing to yield. He had practiced this climb on several occasions but only now was he thankful for the rough wood used to construct the stable. He had spent many nights digging splinters out of his palms but not this night. The wood soaked the rain in like a sponge making the surface softer and easier to manage. Plus it absorbed most of the sound he made. The defensive wall was hard stone dug from the mountains. It allowed for many hand and footholds. He reached the top exhausted but thrilled he had succeeded. He wondered if other eight year olds went through these daily and nightly ordeals.
    With a final push off the rock wall, Bradan rolled onto the roof. He immediately looked down through the small space between the roof slats. He could see dark shapes moving about. One entered the stall he had just recently abandoned. The boy kicked at the straw clearly hoping to make contact with a body. He was sorely disappointed.
    “Nothing! There’s nothing in any of these stalls but the stink of horses and rotting hay!” he cried out.
    “Well he couldn’t have just disappeared.” he heard Donal respond. “We must have missed him somewhere by the servants’ quarters. There isn’t much time before curfew. I want you, Justin, Liam and Tim to go up on the wall. Art, Brian and I will go back to the beginning and you follow from above. There’s no way past us so we should catch him this time. And may I remind you that I don’t like losing my prey. I will use this stick tonight be it on Bradan or one of you.”
    The other boys hurried out into the rain. Bradan lifted his head and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. He watched his brother’s gang run into the night and disappear around the corner of the castle. It was time to go.
    He walked over to the front of the roof and look down to his left. An old empty cart lay below against the side of the stables. He gingerly lowered himself over the side and kicked out until his feet touched the cart’s railing. Once he was sure of his footing he let go and quickly crouched down in the shadows.  He only paused to get his breath back before silently heading in the same direction as his brother. At the corner he crouched and peered around the side. No one was on the ground or walking the wall. He just might make it to his room safe. Quickly making his way to the next corner he proceeded as before. This time he could see the boys beginning another methodical search of the yard. High atop the defensive wall, the four boys walked slowly to keep pace with their cohorts on the ground. The door to the kitchen lay halfway between him and them. No way was he going to make it without being seen. There were no other options and he was far too tired to go through the stable ordeal again. Tears of anger and frustration welled up into his eyes only to be washed away by the cold unforgiving rain. He pounded a fist against the wall and felt it vibrate. Startled, he looked at his hand with awe. Then he felt the ground ever so gently move under his feet. There was a pause and then the world moved again. Now he could make out the sounds of chains rattling over the fury of the storm. The drawbridge was being lowered and the portcullis was being raised. At this hour it could only signify one thing. Someone very important had arrived.
    Bradan saw that the boys had also realized what was happening. They quickly abandoned their search and hurried off towards the front of the castle. With the coast now clear, Bradan didn’t hesitate before sprinting around the corner and rushing into the safety of the kitchen. The warmth of the ovens and the smell of baking bread enveloped him immediately. Normally he would look around for a bite to eat but not tonight. Right now his only concern was getting to his room and out of these wet clothes.
    To avoid as many people as possible he used the servants’ stairs. The stairs connected to various tunnels that ran like veins throughout the thick walls of the castle. This allowed the servants to move about more efficiently as well as keep them out of sight. Bradan had familiarized himself with every route long ago. It had helped him to avoid his brother’s attentions. More importantly he had come to know the castle staff quite well. They were a motley group that treated each other more as family than friends. And they had taken him in as well.  Since he was the second son and not the future heir, they felt at ease around him. They would even help hide him when Donal was about. When in public they would treat him accordingly but once out of sight from anyone he was just one of the gang and that suited him fine.
    He was surprised that he didn’t meet anyone on his way to his room. There were always people moving about day or night. Though the king might sleep, the castle was always in motion. He made it to his room without a soul in sight.
    He pulled his clothes off, grabbed a towel next to his washbasin and stood before the small fire burning in the fireplace. It didn’t carry much heat but Bradan was thankful for what warmth it could provide. He briskly rubbed himself down with the towel and before too long he felt dry and toasty. Over the popping of the burning wood he could faintly hear the sounds of commotion outside his door. He wrapped the towel around his waist and quietly opened the door a crack. Though no one was standing there he could definitely hear a crowd somewhere in the castle. He was sure everyone was in the grand foyer waiting on whoever was arriving. He decided he wasn’t going to be the only one left out.
    He figured since whoever it was must be so important to be arriving at night he should dress for the occasion. He selected a dark tartan with deep hues of red and blue. He chose a clean white shirt to wear and tucked the ends. He latched a leather belt about his waist but left the sporran off. He finished by pulling on his nice boots and pulling his hair back in a tail. After making a few adjustments in the dresser mirror he turned and walked out.
    Once out in the hallway he knew for certain everyone would be in the foyer. He hurriedly made his way towards the clamor. It wasn’t long before he finally came upon people.
    “What’s all the fuss Henri?”
    A large man in a baker’s uniform turned and looked at him. “Hello master Bradan. I wish I could tell ya but I’m still in the dark. Someone’s come to see your father is all any of us know.”
    “Is the entire castle here?”
    “If I was a betting man, and ya know I am, I’d say yes to that. Ha! Just wait till ya see the second floor.  All the bloodsuckers and your mum’s dandies are crowding about starting their gossiping already. Fools the whole lot of them. But ya can’t hardly blame ‘em. It’s a royal welcome your father’s got below.  He and your mum are already downstairs with the honor guard.  She sent Anni to fetch all you children. Now how is it you beat everyone here?”
    “Because Donal hasn’t found someone or something else more fun to hurt. If you see Anni, tell her she won’t find Donal inside the castle.”
    Henri didn’t miss the bitterness in boy’s voice. “I’m sorry ya had trouble again master Bradan. We all wish we could help ya more.”
    “You guys do more than you should…more than you know.” He touched Henri on the arm and moved past. He ran into more and more people. By the time he reached the stairwell there wasn’t a spot available to look down to the left or right along the balcony. Not that it mattered to him.  Even had he wanted to hang here with his friends his father was waiting for him below. He reached the second story landing and suddenly understood what Henri had meant. The second floor was crammed with all the guests. Bradan looked about him and couldn’t help smirk remembering Henri’s words. He wasn’t far off with bloodsuckers. The castle was always entertaining people looking for handouts. Be it monies, land, titles, favors or whatever.  Barons mixed with chieftains who mixed with free knights and other important folk, rightfully titled or of self-proclaimed import. Everyone wanted a piece of his father. Then there were the guests of his stepmother. Musicians, poets, merchants and all kinds of silly folks trying to win favor with the queen. They oozed charm and were quick to lavish praises upon her at ever opportunity.  Henri was right.  Every one of them was a fool. If they knew his stepmother like he did, they would run as fast as their legs could carry them.
He heard their whispering tones change as he reached the landing.  He knew they were talking about him.  Snickers and tsk-tskings reached his ears. He did his best to ignore them, standing tall and going quickly down the last flight of stairs. Gods but he hated those people. As he stepped down onto the cold red marble floor the great doors began to open.
    The storm’s energy had not lessened in the short time Bradan had been inside. The wind and rain didn’t hesitate to rush in uninvited. The floors were quickly covered under a thin layer of water while colorful tapestries billowed out and snapped against the walls in a fury of movement. The king and queen stood far back from the storm’s reach. Knights lined the walls in stiff poses. Bradan didn’t see any of his sisters. He walked slowly towards his parents giving his father a questioning look. The king allowed the faintest of smiles in return and gestured for Bradan to stand with him. He glanced once at the doors before taking his rightful place behind his father’s right shoulder. His stepmother never once moved her head but he had felt her eyes following him, trying to tear him apart with all the loathing she could muster. Bradan chose to ignore her.
    A commotion on the stairs caused him to turn and look up.  Anni was trying her best to herd his three sisters down without actually pushing any of them. They were still in their nightgowns with fine robes cinched tight around their waists.  With hair so disheveled, eyes squinted half shut, and attitudes most unbecoming of princesses, there would be no time to get them ready for the arrival. As they joined the party, the queen called for servants to help quickly comb their hair and make them look a bit more presentable. Anni quickly retreated back up the stairs.
    Bradan stepped forward. “May I ask what is going on father?” he whispered.
    “The Arch-Druid Iollan has arrived on our doorstep this very night.”
    “Iollan? I’ve heard of him. Master Cian has spoken his name on several occasions.”
    “Aye there is truth in that. Cian received his tutelage under Iollan. He is a great man and we are honored to have him as our guest. I admit I wasn’t expecting him for another two days. The Arch-Druid apparently knows how to make good time though I would question his choice of traveling weather.”
    “Well I hope he didn’t rush here with bad news.”
    King Aedan turned and looked down on his second son. “Gods I didn’t even think of that”, he laughed, “and if you’ve just jinxed me I’ll have you shoveling horseshit for a month.”
    Bradan smiled, “yes father.”
    The king looked over at his daughters and snorted. “What is keeping Donal?”
    “Here he comes now father.” Bradan stepped back from his father and moved behind him.
    A large man in heavy armor appeared at the door firmly leading Donal by the shoulder. Though nearly as tall and as broad as the knight and heir to the throne, it was painfully obvious Donal was the follower at the moment.
    “A thousand pardons my lord”, said the knight. “I believe this wet dog is your son.”
    The knight stepped back leaving Donal alone in the spotlight.  The boy stood there with eyes downcast, afraid to look at his father’s face.
    “It is damn well near curfew and pouring out there. Even the court fool knows better than to go out in this weather. Explain yourself now.”
    The boy lifted his head. His eyes darted right then left before speaking. “I am sorry if I have upset you father. I was only practicing my tracking skills. I have not had the opportunity to test them in such weather. We only meant…” His voice faltered as he suddenly realized Bradan was standing behind his father. Not only was he here but also he was clean, dry and in fine clothes.
    “I’ve no time for this Donal and you’ve no time to change. Come, take your place and try to look…I don’t know, like a prince should.” Aedan pointed to the floor next to his right foot and Donal all but ran to his father’s side.  He stared down at his brother with narrowed eyes before turning his back to him. Bradan sighed knowing this wasn’t over between them.
    The knight that had dragged Donal in bowed to King Aedan before turning and taking up a defensive position to the king’s right.  His name was Lorcan and he held the title of Master-at-arms. He stood over six feet and was the hairiest man Bradan had ever met.  His long red hair was kept tightly wound in a tail that reached just above his tailbone.  He had a full mustache and beard that hung to his chest and hid his mouth completely; even when he laughed which was almost never. In fact, Bradan could only remember once when Lorcan had laughed and it had been at the boy’s expense. He outweighed all the other knights by at least three stone.  All of it was muscle. Bradan was always amazed to see the man in his armor. He didn’t think it possible for someone of that size to fit in all that metal. He was more amazed and scared at how fast and agile Lorcan was in his armor. He had never witnessed anyone so fierce and merciless in battle. He had watched many times as Lorcan punished his foes in the king’s tourneys. He never lost. Bradan wondered what he was like in a true battle.
    His attention was drawn away by the cries of his sisters. He watched with great amusement as the queen’s servants did their best to comb the knots from their hair. They were still half asleep and trying to fight off all the attention. The queen tsk’d and fussed and threw her hands in the air, obviously fed up with the whole lot of them.
Bradan turned forward and found Donal looking at him. “Don’t you look nice this evening? It’s a shame I didn’t have time to get dressed up as well.”
    “I’ve nothing to say to you Donal. It’s your own fault. Don’t try to blame this on me.”
    “Blame? No, no brother, you’ve got me all wrong. I really am glad you dressed up to meet the Arch-Druid.”
    “Why in the world would you care?”
    “Its very appropriate, that’s all.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    A cruel smile spread across Donal’s face. “Are you serious? Has no one told you why Iollan is here? Truly?”
    King Aedan grabbed Donal by the back of the neck and spun him around. “Enough! I’ll have no more talk from you.”
    “Father?”
    The king refused to face Bradan. “Not now Bradan. We will talk later.”
    “What does Donal mean Father? Why is Iollan here?”
    His father remained silent but he got his answer anyway.
    “He’s here for you.” The smile on his stepmother’s face was identical to the one on Donal’s.