what you see?”
“A ship being pulled in by a storm,” he said.
“That’s not what I see at all,” Nile replied. “Look at it again.”
Leo stared at the painting. “Nope, the same thing. Why? What do you see?”
“Passion,” Nile mumbled. “I see the story of us being thrown into something wonderful, our dream of being knights. Don’t you get it, Leo? We are the ship. And this world we are in now is the thunderstorm. One day we may be as great as Alexander Whitman.”
It made perfect sense. Nile glanced back at the painting, feeling inspired. He was living the dream he had constructed around his imagination since he could walk and talk. It was even his brother’s dream.
Nile turned from the painting. “What did Roland say?”
“To wait out here, but a slew of his best knights are in there with them. I overheard them saying that the Lucian Empire was moving. I also heard them call for the aid of the wizards.”
Nile’s eyes widened. “Wizards?”
“Yes,” Leo replied. “The wizards. They have not responded.”
“Why would they?” Nile asked. “They only help those in dire need. After the Magic Wars there is no way they would help . . .” He held his train of thought as the doors opened and Roland and seven knights marched down the hall.
Nile stepped out of the way.
Roland stared at Nile intently as he passed him, almost as if he knew a secret about him. He then snarled in the other direction. “Follow me.”
Nile and Leo fell in behind the knights. They marched out of the Great Hall and onto the bailey. Stone pathways built by hand lay before each of Roland’s steps and spiraled around, meeting in the center, only to greet a bench and a pedestal with two birds bathing in it.
Roland turned toward the knights. “The Tavera Kingdom should have been here by now.”
One of the knights stepped forward. He had a long brown beard. “Do you wonder that they met the Lucian Empire on the way?”
“Tavera is coming north. The Lucian Empire is heading from the west. They would merge onto the same road unless Tavera went across the mountain, which would be too dangerous. If Tavera left five days ago they should have arrived by now,” Roland explained, resting his hands on his hips.
“Would you like me to take a few of our good men and horses to see if we can spot them?” asked the bearded knight.
“No,” Roland said. “Nile and I will go.”
Nile swallowed.
“We will ride a few miles out across the mountain and circle back around. Hopefully we run into good news.”
“Are you sure?” Nile asked.
Roland laughed. “Yes, and besides, we have a lot to talk about.”
Nile broke from the group, glancing at Leo. Leo shrugged. Nile followed Roland down a stone staircase and through an alley that led out at the ports. The ships towered over all the townspeople and the knights that were still tying the ships into the port. Nile passed a father holding his child, pointing at the ship.
“We will head south across the mountain for a few miles. Turn around and travel back. We want to be within a few hours’ ride from here. Too far and we risk our lives.”
“If we don’t see either one of them?”
Roland stopped and turned to Nile. “We will.” There was fire under his breath.
They walked again, this time up a ramp leading them to the ship. They stumbled across the deck as the knights were carrying off cargo. They went into the horse’s bay.
“Pick one,” Roland said, grabbing a saddle off a post. He turned and threw it onto a black horse, tying it around the belly, then the reins across the snout. He climbed up; Nile was still tying his saddle.
Roland rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and rested on his horse, smiling as he did. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Nile said, pulling the saddle tightly. He climbed up on the horse.
“The reins?” Roland asked.
Nile grabbed for them but got a handful of hair instead. The horse neighed and Nile lowered his head, embarrassed. He
“A ship being pulled in by a storm,” he said.
“That’s not what I see at all,” Nile replied. “Look at it again.”
Leo stared at the painting. “Nope, the same thing. Why? What do you see?”
“Passion,” Nile mumbled. “I see the story of us being thrown into something wonderful, our dream of being knights. Don’t you get it, Leo? We are the ship. And this world we are in now is the thunderstorm. One day we may be as great as Alexander Whitman.”
It made perfect sense. Nile glanced back at the painting, feeling inspired. He was living the dream he had constructed around his imagination since he could walk and talk. It was even his brother’s dream.
Nile turned from the painting. “What did Roland say?”
“To wait out here, but a slew of his best knights are in there with them. I overheard them saying that the Lucian Empire was moving. I also heard them call for the aid of the wizards.”
Nile’s eyes widened. “Wizards?”
“Yes,” Leo replied. “The wizards. They have not responded.”
“Why would they?” Nile asked. “They only help those in dire need. After the Magic Wars there is no way they would help . . .” He held his train of thought as the doors opened and Roland and seven knights marched down the hall.
Nile stepped out of the way.
Roland stared at Nile intently as he passed him, almost as if he knew a secret about him. He then snarled in the other direction. “Follow me.”
Nile and Leo fell in behind the knights. They marched out of the Great Hall and onto the bailey. Stone pathways built by hand lay before each of Roland’s steps and spiraled around, meeting in the center, only to greet a bench and a pedestal with two birds bathing in it.
Roland turned toward the knights. “The Tavera Kingdom should have been here by now.”
One of the knights stepped forward. He had a long brown beard. “Do you wonder that they met the Lucian Empire on the way?”
“Tavera is coming north. The Lucian Empire is heading from the west. They would merge onto the same road unless Tavera went across the mountain, which would be too dangerous. If Tavera left five days ago they should have arrived by now,” Roland explained, resting his hands on his hips.
“Would you like me to take a few of our good men and horses to see if we can spot them?” asked the bearded knight.
“No,” Roland said. “Nile and I will go.”
Nile swallowed.
“We will ride a few miles out across the mountain and circle back around. Hopefully we run into good news.”
“Are you sure?” Nile asked.
Roland laughed. “Yes, and besides, we have a lot to talk about.”
Nile broke from the group, glancing at Leo. Leo shrugged. Nile followed Roland down a stone staircase and through an alley that led out at the ports. The ships towered over all the townspeople and the knights that were still tying the ships into the port. Nile passed a father holding his child, pointing at the ship.
“We will head south across the mountain for a few miles. Turn around and travel back. We want to be within a few hours’ ride from here. Too far and we risk our lives.”
“If we don’t see either one of them?”
Roland stopped and turned to Nile. “We will.” There was fire under his breath.
They walked again, this time up a ramp leading them to the ship. They stumbled across the deck as the knights were carrying off cargo. They went into the horse’s bay.
“Pick one,” Roland said, grabbing a saddle off a post. He turned and threw it onto a black horse, tying it around the belly, then the reins across the snout. He climbed up; Nile was still tying his saddle.
Roland rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and rested on his horse, smiling as he did. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Nile said, pulling the saddle tightly. He climbed up on the horse.
“The reins?” Roland asked.
Nile grabbed for them but got a handful of hair instead. The horse neighed and Nile lowered his head, embarrassed. He
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