A dangling head

"Come on boy!" Soren jumped to his feet, alongside other spectators, clapping his hands vigorously. "Faster! Faster!" he yelled like the horse would hear his voice and dash for the finish line.

The brown stallion galloped as fast as it could, but it was still in third place. After it crossed the final bend, two other stallions overtook him.

Soren grunted in frustration, "There goes twenty gold coins!". He returned to his seat.

There was a sudden uproar in the crowd, they looked down from the private box and saw a few men fighting.

"Benefits of being friends with the crown prince," Draven chuckled.

"We get to watch from the safety of the private box, away from the peasants and fowl smell," Soren teased.

"Well that was fun," Lucien snorted.

"I told you so," Soren's face lit up in a bright smile.

"But not as fun as watching you lose," Lucien said and Draven broke out into laughter.

"Hahaha," Soren said dryly making a face. "I will laugh just as hard when I see you at the altar in your finest coat and polished boot."

Draven punched Soren's shoulder lightly, "Fathead."

"If you can't convince your father, maybe you can talk to Juvia," Soren said, rubbing the spot Draven punched him.

"That sounds doable. When is she arriving?" Draven asked.

"Next month," Lucien shrugged.

"When she gets here, tell her you don't want to marry her and convince her to reject the alliance. Simple," Soren gestured with his hands.

"Like it would be that easy to tell a lady to turn down the position of future queen of Arvenia," Lucien said smugly.

"So much for humility," Draven shook his head playfully.

"Let's be real now. Do you think it would be possible?" Lucien said with a slight frown.

"You could at least try," Soren added.

Lucien shrugged in response, it's not like he had much of a choice. Telling Juvia to turn down the marriage proposal was like a shot in the dark, but he would take his chances.

"So now that you're back," Draven stretched out his legs in front of him, "what do you intend to do?"

Lucien shrugged, he had never really thought about that, he was still trying to get settled in at home and more than anything trying to get over his dismissal.

"There is a chance for me to get my position back."

Soren and Draven looked at each other, surprise evident in their expression.

"How's that?" they asked in unison.

"So," Lucien moved closer to them, reducing his voice to a whisper. "If Ansell is found, he would be compelled to confess how he had sabotaged our mission to the council. That will prove that it was no fault of mine that we fell into that ambush."

"That is great news," Draven said, patting Lucien's shoulder.

"But Ansell could be anywhere by now," Soren said.

"That's my fear now."

"No matter where he is, we will find him," Draven assured.

Lucien nodded, he really hoped they found the traitor soon. The earlier he is found, the earlier he could clear his name and go back to camp.

A short silence followed, each man stuck in his own thought.

"Do you really want to go back to the war field?" Soren finally spoke. "You may not get lucky twice. You could die Lucien."

"My men are out there fighting, risking their lives for the kingdom. We all die someday, and I don't mind dying to save our kingdom."

"So what happens to the throne?" Draven asked in a solemn tone.

"There's Zarek," Lucien shrugged.

"Don't get me started," Soren scowled.

There was another Silence.

They looked up at the same time when a guard approached the private box.

"My Lord," he bowed his head.

"Yes?"

"The king has requested your presence at the court."

"Why?" Lucien squinted his gaze.

"There's an urgent council meeting going on."

Lucien dismissed the guard with a wave.

"See you later." He rose to his feet, "And Soren, try not to cry about your gold coins." Lucien threw over his shoulder.

________________

The atmosphere when Lucien entered the King's court was tense and unwelcoming. Some of the councilmen were talking in hushed tones, others just sat staring into space, their faces contorted in a scowl. They stood and bowed their heads when Lucien entered. Lucien walked up to his father and bowed, he looked at his mother but she looked away, staring at her palm instead.

"Father, you sent for me?" He asked.

"Yes Lucien, we were discussing the war at hand and you came up. So I thought right that you be here."

"Thank you!" Lucien bowed his head slightly.

"If I may, my King," Councilman Willard, a fat man with scruffy brown hair, stood to his feet. "We cannot continue to wait for Ansell to be found, our troops need their commander, and they need him soon. We have to appoint a new chief commander now!"

Some of the councilmen nodded in approval.

"My lord," Hephzibah bowed slightly, then continued; "This is not just about the Prince anymore. The people are beginning to murmur and saying that you don't want to do the right thing because of the involvement of your eldest son." "We should appoint a new commander, one that is experienced. The earlier we put an end to this war the better." He returned to his seat.

The murmuring heightened, Lucien looked around, and his tiny glimpse of hope flickered out. No one on the council was on his side. He knew he should say something, he wanted to say something but he had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth and shut it severally. He looked at his father, who equally looked frustrated by the situation. His father had tried his best to secure this position for him, and he couldn't allow the people to start doubting his father because of him, he knew there was only one thing to do. To save himself and his father the stress.

"Councilmen!" He started.

The murmuring stopped almost immediately, but it wasn't because of Lucien, their gaze was somewhere else. Soon the silence turned to short gasps. Lucien followed their gaze, all shades of horror and shock flashed before his eyes.

Zarek matched into the court confidently, a smug look plastered on his face. A head dangling from his hand, dripped blood all over the floor.