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Chapter 4: The Best Ally One Could Hope For

Prince William and a handful of his n moved quietly down a castle corridor and then into a reception hall, eyes warily scanning for any sudden movents from the shadows. The space looked and felt eerily abandoned. Scattered all around was evidence of the castle inhabitants’ panicked escape. Broken plates and furniture strewn around, shattered glass and doors that had been unlocked and opened by force.

William frowned. It looked like the Moraigthian army had already swept through at least this part of the castle, judging from the level of destruction. The n turned the corner and saw three figures slumped across the flagstone floor, blood pooled beneath them.

Sir Robin Sainsbury prodded the nearest one with his foot. When the body was rolled over, the Islian knights could see it was a page, no older than thirteen sumrs. His throat had been cut. The two other bodies were young maids who had suffered the sa fate. William and Robin glanced at each other and blanched in disgust. Robin sighed. "Remind

again why we’re fighting on the side of the King of Moraigth? His soldiers are known to be no better than wild beasts. Who else would strike down innocent servants and children without pity?"

Gritting his teeth, William turned away from the bodies and led his n into the next room, moving deeper into the castle. He didn’t answer Robin’s question because he had been wondering the very sa thing since the start of the campaign.

King Kenneth Stephenson of Moraigth was known throughout the continent as a brutal and volatile ruler, as well as a notoriously unreliable ally. Any treaty signed by him wasn’t worth the paper it was written on. Nevertheless, a fragile peace had existed between the countries of Islia and Moraigth over the last decade. When King Kenneth’s younger half brother, Prince Robert, Duke of Arlington had incited a rebellion in early spring to try and take the Moraigthian throne for himself, King Kenneth had called on Islia for help.

Alliance or not, William been shocked that his uncle, King Edward, had actually agreed not only to side with Kenneth, but to also send him aid in the form of a substantial Islian army led by his three eldest sons and nephew. William had been reluctant to help lead the army but didn’t dare argue with his monarch.

"Would it be such a terrible thing if Duke Robert managed to take the crown from his brother?" William had finally been brave enough to ask his uncle a couple of weeks ago. Preparations for the invasion of Moraigth were in full swing but for the first ti in his life, William felt no excitent for a campaign. "King Kenneth isn’t beloved by his people, he seems more interested in taxing them dry than ruling them at all. By all accounts, the duke at least has a reputation as a fair man who looks after his lands well. The Duchy of Arlington is the most prosperous of the Moraigthian regions. He also has the backing of several prominent lords in his country. Given all these reasons, don’t you think the duke might be the better king?"

"I have absolutely no doubt that Duke Robert would make a far better ruler." King Edward had replied cannily, never moving his narrowed eyes from the map he was poring over. "Kenneth is a poor king and an even worse man. My stable hand would make a better ruler. But that’s hardly the point, is it boy?"

William had stared blankly at his uncle. "Then why are we offering to help him-"

"Think about it!" snapped King Edward. "Islia and Moraigth may be allies now, but it does us no favours having our neighbour be a stronger kingdom than us. Under Kenneth’s iron fist, Moraigth will remain a weak country. A weak neighbour poses little danger. Whereas a strong charismatic king like Robert would likely unite Moraigth’s tribal lords into a single powerful force, right on our northern border. How exactly would that benefit Islia, boy?"

William had quietly pondered these words. His uncle’s smile reminded him of an old wolf baring his teeth. "The easiest way to remain strong is to do everything you can to keep your competition weak. Rember that, when you help lead the army to support King Kenneth. We need that ignorant brute to keep his ass on the throne and his foot on the throats of his subjects."

"Kenneth will eventually think about betraying us." William had muttered, both admiring and hating his uncle’s self-serving logic.

"Oh, I’m sure he thinks about betraying us every day." King Edward had replied cheerfully. "But what does it matter? He’s reliant on us for trade. His country is poor, his army is smaller and half his tribal lords wish him dead. If we keep him weak, he’ll never be able to attack us. That makes Kenneth the best neighbour Islia can hope for."

King Edwards’s word’s now echoed in William’s mind as he moved through a ransacked Arlen Castle, looking for signs of life.

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