One Week Later. The Palace Gates. Morning.
The riders appeared at dawn.
There were twelve of them—hard men and women, their faces weathered, their hands calloused. They wore no colors, no insignia, nothing to mark whose service they served. Their armor was mismatched—leather and chain, studded leather and boiled leather, a few pieces of plate that had seen better days. Their weapons were practical—swords, axes, bows, a few carrying spears wrapped in oilcloth.
They looked like soldiers. But they didn't move like soldiers.
The guards at the gate raised their halberds. "Halt. State your business."
The lead rider reined in. She was a woman, older, gray-haired, with a bow on her back and scars on her hands. Her face was lined, her eyes were sharp, her voice was steady.
"We're here to see the Duke. We've come to help."
The guard frowned. "Help with what?"
The woman met his eyes. "With the creatures. The things in the hills. We've heard the stories. We've come to fight."
---
The Duke received them in the courtyard.
He stood at the top of the steps, his hands clasped behind his back, his face unreadable. Edward stood beside him, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. William was there too, his back against the wall, his eyes on the strangers.
The riders dismounted. They stood in a loose formation, their weapons at their sides, their eyes on the Duke.
The woman stepped forward. "My name is Mei. I was a scout, once. For Duke Marcellus, in the north. I've been hunting things that don't belong for thirty years."
The Duke studied her. "And these?"
"My people. Farmers, hunters, retired soldiers. People who've seen the things that come out of the hills. People who want to do something about it."
The Duke was quiet for a moment. "You're not soldiers."
Mei shook her head. "No, my lord. We're volunteers. But we can fight. We can track. We can help."
Edward spoke. "How did you know about the creatures? The reports are sealed."
Mei met his eyes. "Reports are sealed. Stories are not. People talk. People see things. People know when something is wrong."
Edward's jaw tightened. "You could be spies. Agents of—"
"We could be." Mei's voice was steady. "But we're not. We're just people who don't want to sit at home while things come through the hills and kill our neighbors."
---
William pushed off from the wall.
He walked to stand beside his brother, his eyes on the volunteers. He saw fear in their faces. He saw determination. He saw the same thing he had seen in the mirror, weeks ago, before he had learned to hold a sword.
"They want to help," he said.
Edward looked at him. "We don't know them."
"They want to help," William repeated. "That's enough."
Edward was quiet for a moment. Then he stepped back.
The Duke looked at William. "You'd trust them?"
William met his uncle's eyes. "I'd give them a chance."
---
They gathered in the Duke's study.
The room was small, the fire low, the maps spread across the table. The volunteers waited outside, in the courtyard, under the watchful eyes of the guards.
Vance stood at the window, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. He had been silent since the riders arrived, watching, assessing, learning.
The Duke sat behind his desk. "You want to accept them."
William nodded. "I do."
"They're untrained. Undisciplined. They could get themselves killed."
"So could I." William met his uncle's eyes. "But I learned. They can too."
The Duke was quiet for a moment. He looked at Vance. "What do you think?"
Vance turned from the window. "They're not soldiers. They'll need training. They'll need equipment. They'll need to be watched." He paused. "But they're not wrong. People are scared. People want to help. Turning them away will only make things worse."
The Duke looked at Grog. He was sitting in a chair near the fire, his chest bandaged, his face still pale. He had insisted on coming, despite the healers' warnings. The rings were in his pocket—eleven of them, plain silver, warm.
"What do you think?" the Duke asked.
Grog was quiet for a moment. "People who can fight. People who can be trained. That's what we need."
The Duke nodded slowly. "Then let them in."
---
Mei stood before the Duke in the study.
The others waited outside, their horses tied to the post, their weapons checked at the gate. She stood alone, her back straight, her hands at her sides.
"You're not soldiers," the Duke said.
"No, my lord."
"You're not trained. You're not equipped. You're not ready for what's coming."
Mei met his eyes. "No, my lord. But we're willing to learn."
The Duke was quiet for a moment. "Why?"
Mei was quiet for a moment. "My daughter. She was a farmer's wife. In the hills. When the creature came—" She stopped. Swallowed. "When the creature came, there was no one to protect them. No soldiers. No heroes. Just the thing and her and her children."
The room was silent.
"She survived. Her children didn't." Mei's voice was steady, but her hands were not. "I don't want that to happen to anyone else."
The Duke absorbed this. He looked at William.
William stepped forward. "I'll train them."
Edward's head snapped toward him. "You?"
"I've been training for weeks. I know what it's like to be scared. To not know how to hold a sword." William met his brother's eyes. "I can teach them."
Edward stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Fine."
---
They gathered in the courtyard.
The volunteers stood in a loose formation, their weapons at their sides, their eyes on William. He stood before them, his sword at his hip, his back straight.
"My name is William," he said. "I'm a prince. But here, I'm your trainer."
The volunteers exchanged glances.
"I've been training for weeks. I've been fighting for days. I've killed things that shouldn't exist." He met their eyes. "I'm not a soldier. Not yet. But I'm learning. And so will you."
Mei stepped forward. "What do we do first?"
William almost smiled. "First, we learn to fall."