Prologue
On a mountain overlooking the most feared prison for boys in Roebertsberg, a broad-shouldered young man laid prostrate beneath a clump of bushes. Rolfe shuddered when he thought of his stay at DCRBOF (known by insiders by as Dekkerbof). It had taken a few months to plan a rescue offensive to permanently free its victims. He looked at the setting moon. The sky was cloudy, which was perfect. He checked his broadsword strapped across his back. The battle would begin any minute now. The cruelty of the prison would end once and for all. He drank in the pre-battle peace. An aide tapped on his muscled shoulder and whispered that all was ready. Rolfe exhaled deeply and picked his way down the mountain to the front line. When he reached his destination, he nodded to an archer nearby. The archer released a fiery arrow into the sky. It arched, and then fell short of the gates. The battle had begun.
…
At the signal, the entire Squire Corps exploded from the woods and charged toward Dekkerbof. Thirty dragon riders swooped from the skies, neutralizing any guards in the towers. They dismounted and charged the gatehouse from the inside.
A squad of unarmored boy-warriors broke out in front to help secure the gate. Hiariandi, the largest boy of Squire Corps who towered a head and shoulders over the other boy-warriors, sprinted ahead as the gate-keepers began to feverishly defend and close the gate that the Squire Corps had opened. Hiariandi hurled his great iron spear through the closing gate. The spear drove into the ground with the shaft protruding out. The spear stopped the gate from closing. No matter how hard the guards tried, the gate wouldn’t budge. By the time they figured out the problem, Hiariandi was through the gate and dislodging his spear. He turned on the two terrified guards and attacked. Hiariandi hurled his spear at the first guard. The force sent the guard back against the gate. The spear went completely through the guard and was held fast to the gate. To the second guard, Hiriandi skillfully threw his dagger that sliced through the guard’s neck. He collected his weapons and moved on to the next warrior that charged at him.
Rolfe charged through the gate, his broadsword drawn and gleaming. He gave a brief nod to Hiariandi who, in turn, nodded back. A guard attacked Rolfe with his war-hatchet but he saw his immediate disadvantage because Rolfe had a broadsword and he did not. Rolfe parried the hatchet and thrust at the guard’s chest. The guard screamed as the sword thrust through. He collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. Rolfe battled his way to a passageway that would lead to the inner chamber, where Franz would be. He and two aides went down the passage. As they came to a corner a guard jumped out at a sword’s length away with his hatchet at the ready. Rolfe proved too quick for him. Rolfe severed his arm at the elbow and, before the guard could utter a cry of pain, plunged his dagger into the guard’s heart.
A howl filled the passageway. Rolfe looked up, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Four death hounds were charging up the passage at full speed.
The aide to the right of Rolfe took a knee, aimed, and fired the crossbow in his hands. The head of the leading hound exploded from the force of the powerful bolt. The bolt continued until it was stopped by the chest of the hound that was following right behind it. They both fell, lifeless. The third ran and dove for Rolfe’s feet. Rolfe leaped into the air in an attempt to thwart this attack. Rolfe caught his foot on the beast, sending him sailing head-over-heels through the air. The aide behind Rolfe was not so lucky. He did not see the hound coming and had no time to react. The hound’s momentum and his great size shattered the aide’s leg. A cry of pain escaped him. The dog clamped on his throat, but he was able to thrust his dagger up into the dog’s abdomen. They both rolled over dead.
Rolfe sat up some ways down the passageway. Suddenly, his vision was filled with the fourth hound lunging at him with his mouth open. Rolfe stretched out his arm in a futile attempt to stop imminent death in the form of a dog. Rolfe felt the draft of something whisper through the splayed fingers of his outstretched hand. The dog crumpled to the ground, dead. Rolfe turned and saw the aide reloading his crossbow. Rolfe nodded at the aide and gained his feet. He barreled down the passage knowing that time was of the essence.
Rolfe passed a branch of the passage when he heard a crash and a stifled cry. He turned to see Hiariandi removing his spear from a dead guard. Hiariandi joined them in a few of his long strides.
“Commander, the battle goes well!” bellowed Hiariandi in his deep, baritone voice.
“Good, Hiariandi. Help me find Franz. We must bring him alive!”
Hiariandi quickly took the lead weaving in and out of the passages. Rolfe trusted Hiariandi’s sense of direction without reserve. Before serving the King, Hiariandi had served in this prison as a personal guard to Franz.
They broke out into the main passage that lead to the throne room. It was clogged with warriors battling hand-to-hand.
Now, all that barred them from the throne room was a pair of thick, oak double doors. Hiariandi began fighting his way to the door so he could provide cover to another massive boy-warrior by the name of Thorfinn. Thorfinn splintering the door with a massive ax.
Finally, the doors blew open and the warriors of the King prostrated themselves to avoid the coming maelstrom of arrows and bolts. the missiles sliced past their heads and shredded the last line of defense against the Squire Corps. Rolfe and the others leaped up and charged into the throne room while the archers feverishly reloaded their weapons.
“Look!” Hiariandi said, pointing.
Rolfe turned to see the last of Franz’s bodyguards disappear in a side passage.
“Follow them!” He yelled as he charged toward the passageway.
Hiariandi led the pack as they ran down the passage. Rolfe looked back to see if the aide was still behind him. The aide was not there. Rolfe was the tail of the pack. They came to an iron door that was closing quickly. Hiariandi threw his spear into the fast closing gap. The spear jammed the door just long enough for Hiariandi and Thorfinn to throw it open with their combined strength.
They burst in and attacked Franz’s entourage with renewed vigor. There were four guards, and each was dispatched in short order. They got their bearings and discovered that the room was a replica of the main throne room. Rolfe saw Franz reclining on his throne and chuckling softly. It didn’t long for the threesome to figure out why. Standing at attention at the base of his throne were two massive men. They were not boy-warriors, they were full-grown men. They towered over the boy-warriors. Rolfe saw that they were even bigger than Fredric, Rolfe’s brother, who was the biggest and strongest man in the King’s army.
“You did not think that I was going to let you kill me,” Franz sneered, “No, I will kill you with a mere gesture and then feed you to the hounds!”
Before anyone could move, Hiariandi hurled his spear at the biggest of the two warriors, skewering the giant. With a grunt, the warrior sank to the ground, lifeless.
Hiariandi bounded over to the fallen warrior. He didn’t have enough time to grab his spear, so he grabbed the massive warrior’s sword.
The second warrior charged, attempting to attack all three at once. Rolfe moved toward Franz, while Hiariandi and Thorfinn engaged the second guard. The giant attempted to block Rolfe’s advance toward Franz, but Hiariandi and Thorfinn channeled him away with swift blows of their weapons.
The two boy-warriors, perfectly coordinated their attacks so that it was nigh impossible for the warrior to adequately defend himself. Hiariandi and Thorfinn began putting small cuts in the warrior, weakening him. Finally, they were fighting from two different directions. Thorfinn went for his legs while Hiariandi went for his neck. The warrior attempted to lunge forward trying to miss both weapons, but he did not escape Thorfinn's ax. It hit him right in the knee, almost completely severing his leg. Hiariandi finished him off with a thrust through the chest.
Meanwhile, Rolfe was locked in a battle of his own. They would have been equal swordsmen if Rolfe was fresh, but his sword flew slower from the long battle. They fought hard and fast for several minutes. Franz, exploiting an opening, put a powerful bind on Rolfe's sword causing it to fly from his grasp. Franz kicked Rolfe in the stomach sending him to the ground.
“Now, peasant scum,” Franz growled, “You die!”
Using his last ounce of energy, Rolfe swung his boot up and kicked Franz in the groin. Franz doubled over in pain, giving Rolfe the time to leap up. Franz attempted to swing his sword at Rolfe, but Rolfe already had Franz’s wrist in his grasp. Rolfe violently twisted Franz's wrist breaking it. Franz’s sword slipped from his broken grasp and clattered to the floor. Franz glared at his hand, now useless.
“Kill me now,” Franz snarled, “So I don’t have to live with this disgrace.”
“No,” Rolfe panted, “I will not kill you. I will leave that decision up to the King.”
Rolfe swung a hard punch to Franz’s face, knocking him senseless. He turned and said,
“Hiariandi, Thorfinn! Cover my back and front. I’m taking Franz out of here.”
Rolfe hauled Franz over his shoulder and broke out into a run toward the prison gates. With Hiariandi as his guide and Thorfinn as his rearguard, he had no worries. He concentrated on keeping Franz balanced on his shoulders.
As he entered the main courtyard, he studied his surroundings. He saw that the pockets of resistance were closing. He broke out into the cool air of the field outside the gates. Two dragons descended at his whistle with a cage suspended between them. He felt Franz being lifted from his shoulders and he thanked the King as he mounted his dragon and was lifted up into the air.