Garinor had spent fourteen years of his life under the man’s guidance and despite the confusing situation, he couldn’t simply walk away. He turned to the prince. “Let me speak with him.”
“I do not think it wise,” the prince returned. “He will twist his words around and catch you off guard. Be wary.”
“I know, but I must.” He stepped toward his father, who lifted his eyes expectantly.
“Son, forgive me, but there has been a conspiracy around you all your life. A deep-seated lie to keep safe the heir to the throne.” He would have said more but the prince made a motion behind Garinor and, seeing it, one of the guards holding Terrian struck him with the hilt of a dagger and knocked him unconscious.
“Father!” Garinor turned around to the prince. “What’s the meaning of this?”
The prince looked aghast. “I have no idea! You there!” he called angrily to the guard. “For what purpose have you acted as such?”
The guard’s rebuttal came easily, “A knife, your highness. He was ready to pounce upon and kill the boy.”
“That’s a lie!” screamed a voice from a western tent. A loud crash sounded and then a tall boy flew from the tent, racing toward them. “Garinor, it’s all a lie!”
Garinor’s eyes popped open. “Tomli!”
“Don’t listen to them, Gar, don’t! Your father, he started up the Daggerfists. He’s been trying to protect you, to keep you safe. Don’t listen to them.”
“T—Tomli, how are you even here?”
“Because of this,” he said desperately, pulling out a chain upon which hung the depiction of a fist clutching a dagger tightly. “I found it in your nightshirt and came after you. But Garinor, listen, these men are trying to protect you.”
“But he’s lied to me all this time, Tomli, don’t you see? He said it himself.”
“To protect you, Gar!”
Garinor glanced over to his father, who was stirring. He then turned his gaze to the prince who seemed eager to intervene. Garinor groaned, his thoughts jumbling together.
Gathering his legs under him, Terrian pushed off from the ground and leaped into the air, head-butting one of his guards. The other was caught unaware and Terrian’s kick knocked him over. Everything then rapidly escalated.
The prince advanced on Garinor, but Tomli shoved his friend toward his father and faced the prince himself. Garinor stumbled to his knees and then scrambled up to free his father’s bindings after claiming a dagger from one of the men his father had knocked down.
“You must flee, son, and remain safe until we can speak again,” Terrian demanded. Then he turned away, released a feral battle cry, and rushed ahead to take on some of the prince’s guard who rose to subdue him. The battle was on in full, with combat breaking out all over the place.
Garinor saw out of the corner of his eye that the prince had captured Tomli and was dragging him away with five other guards. They were headed northeast.
Swords flashed near him and he dodged carefully, trying to keep himself from getting hurt. Meanwhile his father raged about the campsite, often taking on two or three fighters at a time. Garinor had no idea his father was so skilled with a sword and was purely awed with the sight.
His hesitation as he watched his father cost him dearly, however. A soldier ran toward him and although one of the Daggerfists intercepted the attack, she was pushed back into Garinor and he was smashed on the head by the hilt of her sword. She managed to fight back the attacker, but then she was too wrapped up fighting another to tend to Garinor.
He lay there for a short while, dazed and unmoving. He remembered seeing Tomli being carted away by the prince and his men, and he also knew his father wanted him to run. Pushing himself upright, Garinor had to choose.