Behind The Wooden Door Read Free Page B

join the bloodshed.
    “You’ll go in last with however many men are left. Hopefully Hawk and I can kill off most of them before you get there,” Tristan said. He turned sharply from his brother and walked back toward the trees.
    “So that’s it? I just get to go in and kill what you and Hawk leave behind?”  The frustration in Tommy’s voice was evident.
    “You’re lucky I’m letting you fight at all,” Tristan screamed then threw his arm out toward the empty field. “You have no idea what it’s like out there!”
    Tommy looked down at the dying grass and didn’t respond. His first war would be to defend my kingdom. If he died, his blood would be on my and my people’s hands. I only hoped he could handle the battle that lied ahead of him.

 
    CHAPTER 4
    The sun began to set and the moon started to rise making the sky a perfect blend of grey and orange. Silence was the only thing that accompanied me as I walked back to the castle. The three soldiers went back to their camp and left me to walk alone. I preferred it that way, though. This was always my favorite time of the day. When I was young, my mother and I would sit in the garden and watch as the day gradually turned to night.
    I walked through the courtyard to the entrance of the castle. The guards posted at the entry bowed low to me as I passed them, but neither of them spoke to me. They never did. Columns aligned the walls holding the long wooden torches that lit the way down the corridors. I stopped and looked out the window that overlooked the decaying garden.
    I remembered going out there and sitting on the lonely stone bench hoping that maybe, just maybe I’d be able to see her ghost. I would wait and look for her striding along past the rose bushes in her favorite auburn-colored dress. But she never came. It was a fool’s hope, and I knew it.
    Sleep didn’t come easy for me that night. My dreams were tormented by ghostly images, black butterfly wings, and my death by Tristan’s hand. He played the role of the Angel of Death. He stood over me in the dark, his body engulfed by shadows; his voice whispered my name as he waited for the right time to ram his sword through me.
    A cold sweat covered my body when I opened my eyes. The room was dimly lit by the morning sun. The rising of the sun brought me pain. It was a reminder that another day had gone by, and the war was one less day away.
    I walked around the castle’s grounds aimlessly and tried to figure out what my dream meant. Was my mother appearing in my dreams to warn me? Was the butterfly going to follow me as it had her? Was Tristan going to sneak into my room one night and plunge his sword roughly through my beating heart? Only one person was known to have the ability to decipher dreams, and I had to go to see her.
    “Where do you think you’re going, Princess?” The sudden sound of Tristan’s voice startled me.
    Two long lines of crudely pitched black tents separated only by a dying fire stood to my left. Soldiers sat cross-legged on the ground engaged in conversations of their own. A few looked up at me, but most avoided eye contact and stared at the ground.
    “I don’t see how it concerns you,” I said as I stared up at his towering figure.
    He smiled his crooked smile. “Concerned? Who said I was concerned? I was just curious as to why you were walking like a blind person past our camp. Could you not stay away from me?”
    “If you must know, I was just going for a walk. I find it easier to think when I’m not stuck amongst brick walls.”
    I tried to walk past him but he held me back.
    He looked over his shoulder to where I was headed. “If you go that way, you’ll end up on Artair’s land.”
    “I’ve lived here for seventeen years. I think I know where I’m going,” I said and pushed past him.
    “Well, if his soldiers get you, then good riddance.”
    His laughter echoed in my ears as I walked on toward the woods.
    I weaved my body between the trees and thought