Accompanying about three dozen new recruits, Midhir and his companions set off the next dawn for the Northern Wall. Only a handful of the honour guard escorted them, despite Captain Marr and Enforcer Aoidh’s protests. Their words didn’t sway the Emperor’s decision.
The journey took less than four hours on horseback, though they hardly even slowed down to make it there as fast as possible. It wasn’t safe to be on the roads with so few experienced soldiers at their side. Not when he was one of the targets of the cultists.
“With respect, your highness,” the lieutenant leading their escort rode next to him. He was oddly familiar, though Midhir was sure they had never met before. “I must protest to your orders. Allow us to accompany you on the wall as well.”
Midhir shot him a sharp glance as their steeds reached the top of the hill they were ascending. A few gasps echoed amongst the students and the new recruits, prompting Midhir to turn his gaze forward.
The Northern Wall stretched between two great mountain ranges separating The Eldorian Empire from the Kingdom of Calador. Their jagged peaks and insurmountable cliffs were covered by the Overgrowth. Swirling fog obscured much of the view, though it was still a breathtaking sight.
The Wall itself was even more stunning. A total of seven towers rose high above the already incredibly tall wall. Glowing under the sunlight, the seven defensive pylons of the northern border made up the main defence of the Eldorian Empire.
“If any attack is launched,” Alistair’s low voice explained to Arwen and Willow, “Those pylons will feed the Northern Barrier. It will span across the entire wall, it’s height reaching just above the peaks of those mountains.”
Arwen’s eyes widened. “That’s incredible. How did they even find such huge crystals? Is it a single crystal or…”
“Your highness, I insist.” The Lieutenant’s words pulled Midhir’s attention away from their conversation.
“I understand your worries, Lieutenant…” He paused. “My apologies, I never asked your name.”
“Haarkos, sir. Emon Haarkos.”
“Haarkos? Then Lady Ameila is your…?” His voice trailed off.
“She’s my younger sister.” Lieutenant Haarkos said as a smile flashed across his lips. His expression quickly turned neutral. “Please don’t try and evade my request, your highness. According to the report I was provided, the cultists are targeting specifically you. It is not safe for you to wander without guards.”
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Midhir let out a sigh. He wasn’t entirely wrong, even the Emperor had admitted that when Captain Marr and Enforcer Aoidh protested for the same thing.
“I will be at the heart of our defences.” He glanced at the Lieutenant’s face, only to see his unconvinced gaze staring back at him. “You’re not convinced, are you?”
“I’m afraid not, sir.” Lieutenant Haarkos said.
“The honour guard is an elite unit specifically tasked with protecting the Emperor, and the Ring of Stone.” Midhir lowered his voice as he spoke. “Now, half of your unit is scattered amongst the northern lands trying to contain and repair the damage being inflicted on the Veil. The other half of you is chasing shadows in a desperate attempt to stop the cultists. The seven of you were taken from my father’s personal guards. I cannot let the Emperor remain inadequately defended.”
Lieutenant Haarkos scowled. “The prince should also not be left undefended, sir.” He replied with a calm tone. “May I speak freely, your highness?”
Midhir raised an eyebrow. “Please do so.”
“Your highness’ worry for His Majesty the Emperor is admirable, however it leads me to believe you do not know his capabilities quite as well as I first thought.” The Lieutenant hesitated. “He is not the Guardian of the Empire only because he holds the throne, your highness. Mere cultists can never cause him harm.”
Midhir pressed his lips together. “One can never be too cautious.”
“Indeed, which is why you must allow at least two of us to remain by your side.” Lieutenant Haarkos insisted. “I have received permission from his Majesty – he has let the decision be yours, sir. Please reconsider.”
It was wrong. There were too few of the honour guard left to guard the Ring of Stone, and by extension, his father. While he didn’t doubt the Lieutenant’s words, he still couldn’t help but worry. The Cultists had continuously surprised them – they had proven more cunning than they thought. What if…
“Midhir,” Alistair’s voice startled him. “He has a point. They’re targeting you – we can’t allow them to succeed. That means you must be protected. Just like the veil, and like the rift in An’Larion.”
The Lieutenant shot Alistair a thankful glance.
Midhir exhaled a sigh. “Two of you.” He finally decided. “No more. The rest will hurry back to Derwen Hold.”
Despite his unwillingness to accept it, he did seem to be one of the targets of the cultists, though they did a horrible job at actually targeting him. The one ambush on the way to Derwen Hold was amateurish, and the resonance caster who tried to drag him to the forest from the passage they created to break their leader out seemed to be giving minimal effort or was simply too exhausted for a more powerful resonance.
“Thank you, sir. I will remain by your side, along with Rhoan here.” He pointed at the rider at the forefront of the group.
Midhir nodded absentmindedly. He could only hope this wasn’t a mistake. If the Emperor fell… no. He shook his head, pushing that thought as far back in his mind as he could. His father was going to be fine. Once Circe arrived, she could help them heal the veil, and maybe even locate the cultists. Once they captured the man with the helmet once again, and removed the helmet, most of the cultists should scatter. Surely, he told himself, they were only following him because of the helmet. It was easy to follow an apparent chosen one. An ordinary man, though…? Most of them would simply leave. Their faith would waver.
He raised his gaze towards the distant horizon, where the golden sands met the clear blue skies, deep in Calador’s territory.
