Tull Harrison [Harrison - Homecoming

Chapter 1

T he hunter nocked and sighted his arrow. A flash of brown, and the doe jumped into the young mans path, where he had anticipated it would. The tension in the doe echoed the tension in his slightly trembling arm. He released the arrow and the strain drained from his muscles. Air whistled over the arrow as it struck the animal behind the ear. Her knees buckled, and she fell over, all animation ceasing.

When he was hunting, it was the only time he had freedom. He had trained with the bow and the sword for as long as he could remember and was skillful at both. Though a better swordsman, he preferred the bow for its range.

After checking the doe, an old female past bearing, he hauled it over to the horse tethered nearby. Tying the final knot to secure his prey, he mounted and with a shrill whistle called the gyrfalcon back to his glove. The stallion, trained for battle, didn't even flinch as the bird flew in.

The falcon was unique, since he was so tame he required no gear. Delmer ran a loving finger over the falcon's head, and after a short while had to rest his hand on his knee because of the weight of the bird. Though he was approximately the same size as the other falcons of its kind, he seemed to be heavier.

Sighing, the young hunter headed back towards the city. At the edge of the forest he spotted a man in crimson and black, colors which identified him as one of the officials in the castle. Hesitantly, the hunter urged his horse towards the dense trees. Instead of brushing the branches aside as he normally did, he went around them, stalling for time. His fleet hound glanced up at her master as he gestured for her to go meet his visitor.

Emerging from the forest, the boy spotted his father's seneschal and most junior advisor. He shouldn't be out here. He never leaves the castle.

He could tell something was wrong, for suddenly a pleasant summer day turned cold and inhospitable. The fleet hound's silver-brown coat seemed to fade as the light dimmed, and the advisor's face was lined and strained. The young man spurred his war stallion, a dapple gray named Lancelet, and closed the gap to the seneschal in moments.

The seneschal paused, taking gasping breaths.

"Prince Delmer..."

Delmer clenched stared at the advisor expectantly. As the crown prince, he had been handled as if he were made of glass his entire life. His mother, Queen Miranda, had died when he was born, leaving him as an only child except for his foster sister Annabeth. That might be why his father was always seeking to keep him safe, but Delmer cherished his independence.

Besides, he was no weakling. Tall, with a lean but muscular build, he had blue eyes that were common on the coast. His dark brown hair was always ruffled, as he was nearly always moving.

The guards assigned to him had learned early that Delmer would lose them in the woods if they insisted upon dogging his every step. A new guardian was always sent out with the prince by the older guards just so he would get lost and return in confusion. Luckily, Delmer was kind-hearted enough to find his would-be protectors after he was done hunting. The guards allowed this because the prince never hunted dangerous animals; even so, it was a breach in policy.

This day he had especially wanted to be alone. It was the celebration of Malzepher's independence and there was to be a huge feast. Before the feast, it was tradition for the king to walk among the low-born and greet them. As crown prince, Delmer was supposed to be in attendance, but he had managed to avoid that duty.

Once the advisor had recovered, Delmer asked, "What's wrong, Tullister?"

Tullister was still bent over with hands on his knees, but he managed to pant, "It's your father. Assassins have shot him with a poisonous dart when he was in the courtyard greeting some peasants for the celebration. He"

"I must go," Delmer cut him off with a gesture to the fleet hound, Morag, and galloped off towards the castle. He tossed the gyrfalcon into the sky. The bird immediately flew towards the falconry. The tranquil summer day seemed to have turned into a time of tribulation for Malzepher.

Delmer reached the castle in Kingdom Cove as fast as he could. Dismounting while the stallion was still moving, he left him in the groom's hands instead of taking care of the horse himself as he normally did. He and Morag burst through the door and rushed to his father's side.

King Rutherfords usually firm skin had loosened, giving the middle-aged man an elderly appearance, as wrinkled as a dried fruit. His bones suddenly showed, and his eyes had sunken. His left side drooped, facial muscles slack. Even from the doorway, Delmer could see that the sheets were soaked with sweat.

The king spied his son. "Delmer, I'm so glad you've come in time. It was fortunate you were not with me, or else you might have been poisoned too. His voice wavered, and his words were punctuated by coughs. He lisped, since half of his mouth was paralyzed.

"Come in time for what, Father?"

The king and his physician grimaced.

He can't mean what I think he does...

"Listen to me: My time has come, and you must take the throne. Guide the people well." King Rutherford was forced to stop as he coughed violently, spitting up blood. Then he continued, "Delmer, you mustn't worry about making mistakes. I certainly have made my share of them." Morag whimpered, and the king dropped his hand to her back.

He can't leave me...

Delmer tried to feel sanguine, but when he looked at his father's face, he knew the situation was grave indeed. He had always admired his father without really thinking about what would happen when he was king. Though he had trained to take over his father's position, he had not truly prepared for it.

"Prince Delmer, I'm afraid that what King Rutherford says is true. There is nothing I can do for him but relieve his pain. The poison is like nothing I've ever seen before. His lungs are disintegrating, and he experienced a stroke." The physician somberly informed Delmer as the king nodded slightly. Delmer was startled at the physician's words, but not surprised.

"Please take care. I love you..." his father managed to whisper.

"I love you too father! Please don't leave!"

The king gave a sad smile and his pale blue eyes filled with tears. Delmer clutched his hand, but his grip gradually grew weaker, until it went limp.

Delmer's own blue eyes began to fill with tears, but he gulped them down. Morag whimpered and Delmer absently stroked her head. The puppy turned and licked his face. Gathering himself, he set his jaw and stood. Healer Keller, the physician in attendance, handed him a cup of steaming liquid. He downed it without even noting the taste.

He must think I'm a hard man to not even show emotion at my father's death, but right now I'm too numb to feel anything.

Dazedly, Delmer returned to his chambers and changed out of his hunting clothes and into the black robe appropriate for mourning. The robes weight settled over him, weighing on his physical form like the grief that weighed on his soul.