It was a precarious situation. Swords drawn, they all eyed each other warily.

The main doors to the throne room opened, and Bayern soldiers hurried in to take battle positions. Caught between the king's guards on the dais and the guards at the door, the Kildenreans swiveled about, swords raised.

His heart thumping loudly in his chest, Geric eyed Ungolad. Ungolad was the guard with the knife was at Isi's throat. His large hand muffled her mouth.

The tension in the room was palpable.

"Let her go," Geric said firmly. His eyes found Isi's. "Isi, are you all right?"

Isi's countenance wavered, and Ungolad visibly squeezed her jaw causing her to whimper.

"Easy, Ungolad," said Geric in response. He lifted his free arm as a gesture of peace. Easy now. Let's see if we can negotiate, he thought. "Let's talk. What do you want to let the princess go?"

"You are mistaken," Selia interrupted, her voice quivering. "She is my lady-in-waiting." She attempted a smile, as if at a joke. "This is all a joke. I'm the princess."

In the corner of his eye, Geric saw the king slowly walk down the dais steps, shaking his head. Geric knew his father must be reeling from the knowledge that the lady whom he had liked and known for the past several months – his supposed future daughter-in-law – was a traitorous murderess. Yet, his father kept his shock and anger hidden behind forced gentility. Geric reckoned the only favor his father could bestow on a criminal he had known so closely was politeness.

"We heard your entire conversation, I'm afraid," said the king. "So, let's skip the declarations of innocence and move on to bargaining, shall we?"

Selia watched him, her face terrified. The king swept his hand back to the tapestry, smiling sadly.

"Clever opening back there, is it not, my girl?" queried the king. "Years ago, before this estate was generously and unwillingly turned over to the crown, the lord here was a genuine dimwit. He had a minister stashed behind his throne to whisper clever things to say. I'd forgotten about it until now, but Geric used to play there as a boy and he brought it to my attention as soon as we left you." He looked over at Geric, but Geric steadfastly watched Ungolad. His mind was focused upon Isi and her captor.

"He is a good boy," continued the king. "Always was a better judge of character than me. It was his idea to make you think you were alone and employ the listening portal. I guess he thought I was too stubborn to believe this girl's story unless he arranged for me to hear you all admit it yourselves, and I suppose he was right."

The king held out his hand for Selia. She recoiled.

"I think you know I never wish to harm a lady," said the king. "Your own hands have spilt no blood, I think. Tell your lover there to release the princess and we'll judge you all fairly."

Selia and Ungolad exchanged a tense glance. For a moment or two, no one spoke.

Geric scanned the room. There were Bayern guards and soldiers everywhere, at least three to every one Kildenrean guard. They're hopelessly outnumbered. The Kildenreans must realize that they have to negotiate, he thought. But, no one moved or said anything. Geric held out his hand to Isi. Ungolad dragged Isi a step backward.

Geric pulled back his hand. "Easy there, sir," he said slowly and gently, not wanting to provoke Ungolad. "Just lower your knife and let her come to me."

Selia spoke. Clearly, she is the leader of the traitors, thought Geric. Perhaps the treachery was even her idea.

"Ungolad," said Selia, her voice trembling with fear. Ungolad straightened as if she had commanded him.

"Come here," he growled. "All of you!"

Selia and the Kildenreans quickly gathered behind Ungolad and his hostage. Their eyes shifted about from the king and Geric to the many soldiers throughout the throne room.

They're not truly thinking about fighting, are they? thought Geric. Trying to hide his rising panic for Isi, he stepped forward. Some Bayern guards stepped forward as well.

Ungolad scowled darkly – threateningly. "I will kill her," he declared. "Believe I will."

Geric did not doubt it. He halted.

"Ungolad," he said, "this is the time for negotiations, not for fighting. If you start fighting, you all die. If you kill her, you all die. Let her go and I guarantee none of you will be executed." They're fools if they don't take this offer.

"We take her with us," Selia answered for Ungolad. Yes, she's the leader, thought Geric. "That will be our guarantee."

"We can discuss that," the king said.

Geric, his eyes focused unwaveringly on Isi's face, saw her eyes widen in terror. He recalled her last words to him as he had left her in the audience hall – "No. Don't leave me here with them. They are murderers. Come back, please!" Geric would never allow her to be alone with the traitors again; they would kill her for certain this time.

"No. No, that's not possible," said Geric. "Settle this now, in this room."

Her voice shaking, Selia responded. "If we can't leave with her as our assurance of safety, then there will be nothing to settle."

No, that's not happening, thought Geric. But he did not wish to provoke these murderers by voicing that thought.

At a stalemate, the room fell silent, each side eying their adversary, waiting for one to strike.

Selia broke the silence. "Tell them to back away, Crown Princess," she said to Isi. "Tell them to let us pass, and once we're on our way we will send you back."

Silence fell again. Selia, with some fierceness, again ordered, "Tell them." She prodded Ungolad, who lowered his hand from Isi's mouth so she could speak.

Her mouth freed, Isi stated softly, but firmly, "No."

A draft breezed past Geric's cheek. The tunics of soldiers near the door ruffled in a strong wind. Isi's skirt whipped about in a sudden, yet lingering gust. Within moments, the throne room felt like the epicenter of a growing tempest. Gales of wind buffeted the Kildenreans, the Bayern soldiers, the king, and Geric. The wind gathered in a swirling, roaring storm around Isi. Isi appeared unaffected and unconcerned about the whirlwind beating her dress and whipping her hair. On the contrary, she seemed to be concentrating – she was… she was summoning the wind.

Amazed, Geric watched her. Magic? Is that possible? What is Isi doing? How can she do that? Geric wondered, in awe.

The whirlwind swept around Isi, battering Ungolad whose eyes were wide with panic.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Ungolad exclaimed. Abruptly, he choked; coughing and spluttering, he stumbled, and his grip on Isi loosened. With surprising force, Isi punched backward, striking Ungolad's middle with her elbow. He doubled over, and, freed, Isi stepped away from him. The wind still whipping about her, she turned to face Selia and the traitorous Kildenreans. Her yellow hair whirled about her head like the halo of an angel as the roaring wind beat against her.

Everyone in the room gaped at her. Some of the Kildenreans backed away.

"Your war's done," said Isi.

"Undone…" mourned Selia in response.

A flicker of movement caught Geric's eye. Ungolad, growling, advanced with his sword drawn and his eyes on Isi. Too far away to intervene, Geric's heart caught as Ungolad brought the sword down on Isi. But the whirlwind caught the blade and kicked it away. Isi swung around to face Ungolad. Geric charged forward while the Bayern guards did not, seemingly frozen since witnessing the wind-gathering.

"Geric," called Isi, turning towards him. Ungolad was raising his sword again – he would strike her dead – and Geric was not near enough.

"Ungolad!" shouted a new voice. Shockingly, Ungolad stopped and lowered his sword, turning to find the source.

"Come on, you mercenary, you coward, you slayer of cook-men and women without weapon. Fight me! Fight me!"

It was a Kildenrean man in the doorway, royal soldiers' spears pointed at his chest. Ungolad grinned with anticipation and ran towards the man. The soldiers hastily stepped away, and the man lifted his own sword to strike Ungolad's.

Geric, now only feet away from Isi, heard distant shouting over the clash of the swords – "For her! For the yellow lady! For the princess!" A throng of people with crooks and staffs shouted for Isi and pressed in through the ranks of soldiers, struggling to join what was now a battle. A Bayern guard tossed a shield to Geric, who caught it and hurriedly slid it onto his arm. The Bayern soldiers, no longer distracted, raised their javelins and swords and fought the traitorous Kildenreans who battled with furious desperation.

Geric stepped protectively in front of Isi just as an angry Kildenrean confronted her. Isi stumbled back and fell.

"I will have you, little prince," the Kildenrean sneered.

Before Geric could meet the traitor's sword, the Kildenrean fell to his knees, a spear in his back. A young man who was not a Bayern soldier gazed upon the spear he had thrown.

Geric hastily pulled Isi to her feet and wrapped his shield arm around her to safeguard her from harm. Even in the midst of battle, Geric's heart leapt to have Isi in his arms. Before he could even think, another traitorous Kildenrean charged towards them, sword raised. Geric blocked his blows, and the man fled. Geric retreated to the wall, the better to defend Isi.

"Are you alright?" he asked her anxiously.

"Yes," she answered.

Geric allowed himself to hold her tighter. Unable to resist, he pressed his cheek against her yellow hair, breathing in her sweet scent. Oh, I love her, I love her, he thought.

With new energy, Geric surveyed the battle. Most of the Kildenreans lay scattered throughout the room – dead. A few Kildenreans fought on, desperately outnumbered. One fight was particularly savage. Ungolad had weakened his opponent – the Kildenrean who had shouted at Ungolad in the doorway – and would soon kill him. Isi, alarmed by what she saw, squeezed Geric's arm and pointed to Ungolad's fight. At that moment, Ungolad stabbed the good Kildenrean in the shoulder. Ungolad withdrew his bloody sword and laughed.

Geric quickly but gently released Isi and ran to distract Ungolad. "Here!" he shouted. "Here, I will fight you."

Ungolad turned to face Geric, nodding. "Yes, you," said Ungolad. "You would have touched Selia. You would have shared her bed."

Geric hardly had a moment to feel acute distaste at Ungolad's comment before Ungolad surged towards him, his sword raised over his head and an expression of madness upon his face. Geric hastily lifted his sword, and the resounding clash rang in his ears.

Ungolad immediately whirled and brought his flashing blade down onto Geric's right side – his shield-less side. Geric staggered to his left, swinging his sword down to block Ungolad's blow, which clanged onto the stone floor inches from Geric's right foot. Ungolad bucked up Geric's sword with his own, and Geric backed away, perspiration on his brow. Geric recalled watching Ungolad fiercely play sword matches against the palace guards at the training grounds. "My arm hurts just to watch" he remembered telling Isi. He had dreaded fighting Ungolad in a sword match – and now he was fighting for his life.

Ungolad swung his sword back and forth at Geric, trying to slash him open. Geric parried the onslaught, trying to use his height – for he was taller than Ungolad, and almost as broad – to temper Ungolad's advanced swordplay. Suddenly, Ungolad lunged; his sword thrust forward, seeking to pierce Geric's flesh. Eyes wide, Geric deflected the blow, sending Ungolad's blade onto Geric's shield with a clang. With his shield, Geric shoved Ungolad away. Ungolad, without hesitation, slashed again at Geric, before pressing forward and pushing back Geric with blow after blow after blow upon his shield.

Trying to ignore the pain in his shield arm and his increasing dismay, Geric noticed that he and Ungolad, alone, were still fighting. Standing amid the bodies of the fallen, the king, Bayern soldiers, and Isi – surrounded by protective guards – watched Geric's battle with apprehension. It was his first battle, his first time to show his honor as a man. He had to fight alone.

Ungolad's onslaught continued without pause, until Geric yanked his sword arm in front of him. With a clash, they locked swords, each man straining to gain the advantage. Their heads close, Geric watched as Ungolad grinned maniacally. Then he spat in Geric's face. Spittle stung his eyes and dripped down his nose.

"I fight a boy," Ungolad taunted. "She would never love a boy."

Geric heard a groan from a bystander. Ungolad twisted his blade, knocking away Geric's, before he swung hard at Geric's chest. Geric blocked the blow with his shield, but he found himself on his knees, his arms shaking.

Pain, searing pain. Geric's head was throbbing. Ungolad had struck him with his shield. Stunned, Geric tried to focus on his enemy through a haze of semi-consciousness.

Ungolad was drawing back his sword for a blow – My deathblow, thought Geric.

But, suddenly, Ungolad was stumbling back, cursing. Geric scrambled to his feet, trying to clear his vision. The throne room swung back into focus just as Ungolad attacked. Geric managed to block with his sword, before again pushing him back with his shield. But Geric's next parry was too slow, and Ungolad's blow fell onto his shield. Geric barely had time to grimace at his bruising shield arm before he noticed that Ungolad's shield arm unexpectedly held a dagger. With such swiftness that Geric could not defend himself, Ungolad sank the dagger into Geric's right side.

Geric cried out. The pain was agonizing, much, much worse than he had ever felt. Instinctively, he kicked Ungolad away which pulled the dagger free from Ungolad's grasp and Geric's side. The dagger clattered across the stone floor.

Steeling himself against the intense pain, Geric advanced upon Ungolad. Geric no longer felt intimidated and afraid, but determined. I will do this, he thought. A brief image of a shyly smiling Isi – dressed as the goose girl – came to the forefront of his mind.

For the first time in the battle, Geric was on the attack, and he brandished his sword with a new, grim power. His advantage of height brought down a barrage of blows – just out of reach – onto Ungolad, who appeared to be weakening just as Geric seemed to be gaining strength. Ungolad backed towards the dais, blocking Geric's continuous strikes with his shield causing it to deeply dent. Seizing an opportunity, Geric pressed his blade down onto Ungolad's knuckles. Ungolad seethed at his bloody hand and swung his sword upward towards Geric's head, but Geric quickly locked swords. Before Ungolad could react, Geric kneed him in the belly. The breath whooshed out of Ungolad, and he lost his balance. He stumbled back against the throne where he regained his feet. Geric, in close pursuit, locked swords again. Shoving Ungolad with his shield arm, Geric scraped his blade down Ungolad's with a loud screeching of metal. Ungolad was panting – he could not keep up with Geric's newfound strength. Geric wrenched his sword free and lunged.

And he plunged his sword into Ungolad's heart.

Ungolad fell onto the seat of the throne behind him. His sword slipped through his fingers, and its clatter on the floor echoed loudly throughout the hall. "Selia," he said, distractedly looking about the room. He clutched his chest, and then raised his fingers to see his blood dripping from them. As if he saw Selia, he presented his hand, his blood – his final act.

He slumped and died.

Geric's first battle. Geric's first kill. I killed him, Geric thought, somewhat dazed. Weariness he had not felt suddenly pressed in on him. Hardly having the energy to wince at his wounds, he sat down on the dais steps. He let go of his sword, and he loosed his shield; both clanged onto the stony floor.

His father rested a hand on his shoulder. "Stand up, son."

Geric got slowly to his feet and faced his father. The king picked up an unused spear that lay on the floor, and broke it in two by bringing it down hard on his bent leg. He dropped the broken pieces at Geric's feet.

"Sword," said the king, extending his hand.

Geric picked up his bloody sword and held it out. A guard beside the king used his own tunic to clean off the sword's blood before handing it to the king. The king weighed the weapon in his hands. Everyone waited in silence to hear the king perform the age-old benediction.

"I give it back to you to wear in defense of your people and your land and your sovereign," said the king. "May it be quick and thick with the blood of your foes."

Even in his weariness, Geric felt a swell of pride.

The king handed the sword back to Geric, who took it humbly into his hands. The king came forward, and he put both hands upon Geric's shoulders, smiling. "I'm proud of you," his father said in a soft voice.

"Where's Selia?" Isi's voice interjected.

The king turned around and looked sharply about. Geric sheathed his sword, and, after noting that Isi was well-guarded, stood ready. He could feel blood seeping into his shirt and trickling down his side. Wincing internally, he gingerly applied pressure to his stab wound with one hand, the other resting on his sword's hilt. A gray-haired guard approached him and placed a handkerchief against Geric's side. Geric gritted his teeth in an effort not to not flinch or groan.

"How did you let that murderess escape?" thundered the king, glaring at the soldiers.

"Through the secret door," said Isi, pensively. Geric glanced at the tapestry.

"First body," ordered the king's captain, "search the estate. Second body, secure the wall. Third body, inform gate guards and then report to me. Go."

Soldiers in groups hurried from the room, their footsteps thudding and echoing throughout and beyond the throne room.

"Sly little cat," said the king, his lip curling with anger. "She knows the punishment for treason. She named it herself."

"She'll be found, sire," answered the captain before walking to the throne room's doors to await any news.

"Get that thing out of my chair," ordered the king with a wave of his hand. Two soldiers jumped to the task, dragging away Ungolad's body. Another wiped the seat clean with a piece of cloth he had ripped from the tunic of a fallen man.

The king sat in the throne.

The audience hall seemed to tilt crazily in front of Geric. He swayed unsteadily, blinking away bits of blackness clouding his eyes. "Sire," he said.

The king sighed heavily, looking at Geric. "Go on, son, you're not doing me any good by bleeding." He signaled for Geric to take his leave.

"Here," murmured the gray-haired soldier holding the handkerchief to his side. "Lean against me." The man wrapped a supportive arm around Geric's chest, and Geric gratefully leaned on him. Together, the soldier and Geric slowly left the room.

Blackness swam in and out of Geric's vision as they walked down the corridor toward the infirmary. The people passing by became blurs, and the gray-haired soldier's words of encouragement faded to distant mumblings. Geric's thoughts felt like feathers in a wind – his concern for Isi and anger at Selia's escape, his victory over Ungolad, his awe and wonder for Isi and the whirlwind, his pride in earning a sword and truly becoming a man, his undeniable love –

Geric stumbled along persistently, but just as they reached the doors to the infirmary, he sank to his knees, and the world went dark.