I feel like it’s taking a crazy long time to get this writing project done. But, I confess, I’ve had a few health concerns that, while they didn’t STOP me from writing, have certainly limited my time, energy and brain power. The last few weeks have been much better and I’m stepping on the gas pedal now! It feels really good.
From Guardians of the Horsemen Book 2 Chapter 6
The deck remained silent until Tel heard hushed voices. Two men talking in whispers. Tel remained motionless, listening.
“They’ll send the message to the king soon,” a man said in hushed tones.
“Yes. They might have sent it already,” the other replied. “The king will go. He cares deeply about Lord Olthorin. Enough to name him his heir. Even though he had to do it. His spineless weakling of a son won’t be ruling anything.”
Hot fury rushed through Tel’s body as they referred to him that way. He wanted to confront them, to scream at them that they were wrong. But how could he? It was true. He was weak.
One of the men spoke again in a low voice. “The letter will tell the king to sail north to Talla and travel up the river to the fortress of Skarthal in Karanis and he will find Lord Olthorin there. Something will happen to the king along the way.”
Tel suddenly felt like he was choking. These people already had Olthorin, and they were planning to use him as bait to lure the king into a trap and kill him. And the queen was behind all of it. His father trusted her. He loved her. And she was only using him to gain power.
He had to tell his father the truth. Tel would find a way to make him listen. He had to.
“Who is that?” the man’s voice said.
Tel’s insides clenched. Had they spotted him? Swift footsteps approached. The tall man with the scar and one of his friends looked down at Tel in disbelief.
“Good evening,” Tel said, forcing his voice into a calm tone, and punctuating his words with a cough.
“You heard us,” the man said through gritted teeth.
“Heard what?” Tel kept his tone innocent, his expression confused.
“You heard what we said,” the tall man fixed him with a piercing stare.
“What do you mean—?” Tel began to protest.
The man crouched down to clamp a hand over Tel’s mouth, stifling any outcry, while his friend dragged Tel to his feet and shoved him against the rail. He drew a long knife and raised it. Adrenaline coursing through his body, Tel gathered all his meagre strength and twisted to one side, causing the blow aimed at his heart to fall behind his shoulder. Hot pain burned through his body as the blade struck him.