Revised Prologue of Redemption

Prologue

Then

The army stampedes into the village, and warning bells peal out with terrifying clarity. A chorus of voices fills the frosty night air. Men head into the streets with any weapon they can find. Women grab the hands of crying children and head for the outskirts of the city. The army slaughters everyone on sight, the blood of the villagers running down the flashing silver blades of their swords. Screams of dying men get louder as the hoof beats of the soldiers moves steadily closer to the heart of the village. Blood flows through the carved rivets in the streets. Shouts of terror and the clash of blade on blade ring out. Flames reach high, licking at the dark of the night sky as soldiers loot the buildings and set them on fire. At the front of the army rides the last person the people of the town expected to see: their prince.

As soon as the ringing of the bells began to echo through the town, Alex Anderjoseph grabs the hand of his mother and tugs her towards the temporary safety of the alleyway.

“Come on! We have to get out of here!” Alex shouts at his mother. As a boy of 14 years, dragging her through the backstreets would be like heaving a dead body through a crowded street. They would be caught trying to escape for sure. Yet his mother just stands there, staring at the flames of looted buildings in dumbfounded horror.

“Mama! We have to go, unless you want to be in that blaze when they throw you in!” Alex shouts once more at his unmoving mother.

Finally, she gets the message and allows herself to be tugged along through the backstreets. When they pass a dying man, Alex stops and hands the man the chain hung around his neck. On the end of the dangling string swings an ornately carved wooden cross. It was his prized possession, but the man needed it more now. The man accepts the gift with a smile, before closing his eyes and taking one last shuddering breath.

Alex casts one more sad glance at the kind man before continuing down the bloody, death filled street. Just before they can step into an intersection with an alleyway, a tall, lean soldier rides through, swinging his sword at the pair. Alex ducks just in time to avoid being beheaded, but his mother isn’t so lucky. The sword makes impact on her neck with a sickening thud. Her head rolls of her shoulders as her dead body falls hard to the dirt road. The soldier continues on without a thought to Alex or his now dead mother.

Alex falls to his knees next to his mother without a sound. The screams and shouts fade away into nothing as Alex’s mind plays back all of his happy memories of his mother. Spattered droplets of her blood dry quickly on his face in the chilly midnight air. Salty tears fall onto the bloody fabric of his mother’s dress. Alex lets out a ferocious scream of fury.

He realizes that he has to continue on if he doesn’t want the share the same fate. Anger courses through his veins as he pushes himself up and bolts down the street. He sends up a prayer that his mother will make it the gates of heaven.

He dodges between crowds of people, racing against time to reach the edge of the town. Heat from the fiery inferno sears his chilly cheeks. Alex’s anger dissipates into despair as he passes dead friend after dead friend lying burned and unmoving at the foot of towering flames.

Finally, the cool air of the edge kisses Alex’s skin. His green eyes flash with relief until he notices a man riding towards him. As the man gets closer, his distinctive features are easier to make out in the light of flickering flames. Blue eyes, tightly clamped mouth, high cheekbones. The features of the royal family. Prince Raemonn.

Alex spins and grabs the cool end of a burning branch. When the prince comes into striking distance, Alex swings the branch with poor aim at the prince. Prince Raemonn ducks with perfect poise, simultaneously drawing his sword and slicing the fiery branch in half. Alex freezes. The prince dismounts from the horse with complete grace and confidence. As he looks at Alex’s face clearly for the first time, a look of recognition passes over his features, then hesitation. Then the prince swings his sword high and brings it down on Alex’s head. The blade slices cleanly through him, and he falls to the ground, dead. The prince casts one more glance at Alex’s bloody body with a hint of regret hidden in his icy blue eyes. Then he turns away, mounts his horse once more, and rides to join his troops.