The castle wasn’t the same as Ryder had left it just moments ago. The halls had cleared of servants and the guards were engaged in battle. The chaos was so abundant that the guards appeared to be swinging at anyone around them. Ryder frowned as guards swung at the same uniforms. It took him a second to realize that it was no accident. Some of the king’s men appeared to be assisting the Duke’s soldiers. A sign that he was standing in the midst of a coup. Ryder wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that he could single-handedly fend off this attack. He avoided the battle and went the other way. He had yet to see Kayel or any of the other Ravens. “What should we do with this lot?” The voices came from up ahead. Ryder edged against the wall and crept towards the voices. The elegant decorations of statues, armors, and furniture gave him plenty of cover for his approach. Two of the duke’s men stood over a pile of bodies. The swash array of red and black armor told Ryder what he was looking at before he even noticed Kayel’s face staring down the hallway. His eyes were void of all life. “We strip the armor. We’ll need them to disguise the men that will kill the rest of the order later.” The sensation of falling was back. Ryder’s gut sank as he pieced together the events. This wasn’t just a coup. It was a purge. Roland was erasing Richard’s reign. The throne and all his allegiances would be corrupted. At a different time, Ryder may have supported this action. As he stared at Kayel and the others, Ryder realized that Roland had now made this personal. He had to warn his brothers and sisters of the attack. But, first… “Shut up, I heard something.” He was right. The soldier heard Ryder’s bowstring draw back and then the air cut by an arrow. The arrow pierced his chest. The staggered from the impact and looked down at the shaft protruding from his body. He glanced at his comrade before trying to speak only to have blood trickle from his mouth. His partner drew his sword, but it was too late. Ryder loosed another arrow, this time aiming for his leg. The arrow planted right in the man’s knee and Ryder ran to him as he fell to the floor. “Where is the duke?” Ryder spat at the whimpering soldier. He twisted the arrow and the man let out a scream of pain. Ryder grabbed his face and forced him to look into his eyes. “Where?” “The throne room…he’s killed the king and princess.” The throne room was beyond the fighting he had left behind. He couldn’t go that way. Ryder let go of the man’s face and thought for a moment. The soldier let out a sigh of relief, thinking his life was safe. Ryder shook his head and pulled the arrow from the wounded knee. Another shriek of pain was silenced as Ryder shoved it into the soldier’s throat. He could take the servant tunnels through the kitchens. He had to hurry. The path was unsurprisingly clear. Most of the fighting would focus around the throne room. As he approached the kitchens, Ryder heard movement on the other side. He opened the door just enough to peer inside. Shadows danced in the light of the oven fires. He moved slow, but squeezed past the door and hid behind a cabinet. He watched for a moment as the figure undressed and undressed another figure on the floor. Now he could clearly see the shape of the figure, a woman from the curvature. He watched as she swapped clothes and put the other body in the fire. Ryder wanted to act, but he had the feeling to wait. It wasn’t adding up. Roland had only brought men and swapping clothes in the middle of the coup seemed pointless. Not much to hide anymore. With the body burning, the woman left out another door. As she crossed the room, the fire illuminated the figure and he saw a face and hair he recognized: the princess. She was still alive, but she was a fighter. If she was here by herself and using guile, then something had gone terribly wrong. The coup was winning. Ryder decided to follow her as she disappeared beyond the door. If she was running, then the battle was lost and her safety was the only future the kingdom had. “Your majesty, I think it’s time we leave this place.” Ryder tried to stifle any previous resentment he had for the woman. If she was going to do anything with him, then she had to trust him. He sounded as friendly as possible, like a loyal servant protecting his queen. He rushed past her and opened one of the cells. A man was resting on the cot, but he didn’t stir when the bars creaked open. More than likely, after weeks of starvation, he was dead. He went to the far side of the cell and pulled down on the sconce. The wall slid open and the faint odor of sewer water wafted into the room.