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that,” the prince responded icily. He made a short, quick gesture toward his henchmen. “Seize him!”
    As one, Bran’s men-at-arms rushed forward. The first reached the figure of the king sidelong, fouling his sword arm as it rose in defense. The desperate struggle lasted but a few tense moments before Morien was overwhelmed, his steel clattering uselessly to the stone floor.
    “What treachery is this, Bran?” the king asked, his composure regained. “You go too far in this …”
    “I do as I have always done. I do as I please.” Bran gripped the king’s jaw roughly in his hand, staring coldly into his father’s narrowed eyes. “And you would do well to change your tone. I am no longer your whelp to be spoken to thus.
    “It would please you to know my designs?” Bran’s tone mocked his father. “Then I shall give you this last comfort.
    “I have planned this moment with the mind of the true conqueror, for I look ahead for years where others look mere days. Lorccan came to me, his men piling fursat my feet to win my favor, and I knew he could be controlled by his ambition.
    “I made him king, first over his neighbors, then the whole of the Heldann Highlands. I supplied him with steel weapons and armor, schooled his men and horses. My hand guided him throughout, even as he swept out of his lands to lay flame and slaughter on Gallitain.
    “But the cursed barbarian’s pride burns hotly in his breast such that he issued you a formal challenge. Had the dog bided his time, you would have learned his name at the point of his blade within these very walls.
    “No matter, for the end shall be the same. My army is ready to march, and with the garrison gone from Brimhall, all resistance will be easily crushed. Once Lorccan has made but a memory of my dear brother, I shall send him along the coast until his hordes are too weak to oppose me. They will have served me well.”
    Morien shook his head sadly. His tone was incredulous. “Betrayal? But why? In time, this would all have come to you.”
    “Would it? I have no intention of ruling as you do, Father, feebly scraping this way and that to appease those beneath me. I would have that upstart Loriel in the south and Emric courting the nobles away from me. I would inherit civil war. Better to strike now at my enemies and take by force the whole of what is rightfully mine.”
    The king paled in the face of his son’s ambition. His gaze went to Leanna, who lay bound against the wall.
    Bran read the unspoken question in his father’s eyes. “Leanna will make a fitting queen for me when I sit on the throne of Wareham. She will be my final victory.”
    “This is madness … madness,” the king muttered. Without warning he cried in alarm, “Guard! Gua—”
    Bran clapped his hand over the king’s mouth, silencing him at once.
    “It is fortunate you come to my sword now, Morien, instead of on the battlefield. Without your leadership to rally your troops, my triumph is assured. I bid you farewell, Father. Know that all you have amassed in your lifetime will, indeed, be mine and that your beloved Emric will soon join you in death.”

    With a lightning-quick motion of his arm, Bran lashed out. His sword sank to the hilt in the mighty king’s chest.
    A mix of surprise and sorrow passed over Morien’s face before he crumpled to the floor. Leanna’s muffled screams echoed from the walls.
    “Take her,” ordered Bran as he wiped sweat from his face with a trembling hand. “We ride for Karvoie.”
    He watched as his father’s lifeblood ebbed in a pool at his feet, until he heard the sound of armored men descending from the stair above. He fled for the yard below, unable to sheath his blade for the cursed shaking of his hands.

Chapter Six
    P rince Emric studied the silhouette of Castle Gallitain in the distance. The fires of the Heldann watchmen were visible through the crenellations as heavy clouds began to obscure the midnight sky.
    Emric and his men were near