Page 59 of Fire in Stone

“The king’s castle, the Bozyr Peak,” he replied, thinking on the spot. The Bozyr Peak was just as good a destination as any. Maybe even better than most. Depending on exactlywhenhe was, the king’s castle might be his home.

“Huh?” Osym propped his hands on his hips. “And what makes you think you’d be welcome at the Bozyr Peak?”

“Who is your lord?” the leader asked.

The intensity deepened in the leader’s penetrating stare, making Elex realize how vitally important the answer to that question must be.

“No one,” he replied cautiously. “I was raised outside of Dakath. My parents are now dead, and I wish to return to the land of my ancestors. I’m going to the Bozyr Peak to offer my services to the king.”

He wished he knew who the current king was. It’d help him orient himself along the timeline of the kingdom’s history. But he feared that asking about that might make the men even more suspicious. He didn’t want to reveal too much about himself, not knowing who and what he was dealing with.

“An outsider?” The suspicion in the leader’s gaze thickened.

“He’s a spy!” The long-haired man thrust a knife Elex’s way. “He won’t name his lord because it’s one of the Rebels.”

The Rebel Lords.

That was the name of a group of High Lords who once went against King Edkhar, his great-great-grandfather. The rebellion caused a brutal war that lasted for decades.

Was that where he was? About a millennium in the past?

Shock stunned him. A chill that had nothing to do with the freezing wind seized his limbs.

“Not a spy…” he muttered.

The War of the Rebel Lords was the last brutal war in Dakath. Hundreds of thousands died in endless bloody battles. That war had been the most terrible event of the past, in the time where he’d come from.

Was it hispresentnow?

Osym wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Yeah, how do we know you’re not trying to sneak into the king’s castle to spy on us? Like Draig said?”

“Or to try to kill King Edkhar?” Draig chimed in, shoving his long hair out of his face only for the wind to blow it right back in again.

“I’m not.” Elex forced his brain to think about how to use what he knew to his advantage.

King Edkhar won the war. The Rebel Lords were defeated in the Battle at the Bozyr Peak. The king’s son Elex, his namesake and great-grandfather, was born shortly after that and took the Throne of Dakath after King Edkhar’s death.

The three individuals standing before him, as displeasing to him as they were, fought on the winning side. The side he should take, too.

“I want to serve the king,” he said. “I want to join his army to fight the Rebel Lords.”

“Hah!” Draig scoffed. “The king’s army isn’t a place for riffraff like you.” He spat through his teeth.

Anger churned in Elex. He might be hurt and weakened, but he was of royal blood. Many centuries into the future, he’d be the first in line to the Throne of Dakath.

How dare this low-born scorn him?

He straightened his spine, pushing away from the rocks he’d been leaning against for support, and took a wide stance, ignoring the stab of pain zigzagging through the torn flesh of his leg.

“I am of noble blood. My mother belonged to an ancient saurian line.” That wasn’t a lie. Both his parental bloodlines were as old as time itself. “Let the king test my magic. He’ll see what I have to offer.”

Confidence was a mighty weapon. The three thugs went quiet, regarding him with a new interest.

“Well, there’s no harm in bringing him to the Bozyr Peak if we keep an eye on him.” Osym turned to his leader for guidance.

The leader gave Elex a long once-over. “We’ll let the High General decide what to do with him.”

“Or the king can kill the spy himself.” Draig shrugged.

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