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Prince Ambrose never expected to be ambushed, not in this hour. He put on his armor quickly, placed his sword on his waist and covered his head with a steel helmet. “My nephew has crossed a line!” he screamed. “He will die today, he must die” then he mounted his horse.

Princess Thelma was left inside her tent guarded by men who were given orders by Prince Ambrose not to leave her. The camp was lit by fire, the tents were set on fire intentionally by Prince Ambrose’s men so they may see who their enemy was, and it was no secret the men in grey cloaks were the ones who ambushed their camp.

The ambush before the War of the Kins was the worst ambush in the history of Prophisian wars. Men were butchered like pigeons, arrows were thrown from above the trees and mountains and killed many men because of the venom. The only problem was many of the archers killed their own men, instead of Prince Ambrose’s and that’s because they couldn’t see from above the mountains.

Or maybe they did, but because of the whole chaos and shouting, they found themselves shooting the wrong men. The archers belonging to Prince Ambrose Taelin started shooting on the trees and mountains, and hence degrading the number of the archers belonging to Prince Amabel Taelin and their venomous arrows.

What was supposed to be just a walk in the park, turned out to be the worst massacre in the history of battles. As Lord Leoric promised, the Killers delivered. They killed almost twenty thousand of the men who ambushed Prince Ambrose’s camp that night, and with that even the Lead General fell alongside his men. Prince Ambrose had never seen the Killers in action, and he thought Lord Leoric was just a man who talked too much.

But seeing how effective they were in the battlefield in terms of attacking, defending and leading the army ─ he praised himself for making the best decision in buying them from Lord Leoric. It was the Killers who won the ambush single handedly while the sell swords and the knights bought from the Liberty Cities fell on first attempt before the sun rose.

The sound of swords clashing can be heard from Snowspell, Prince Amabel couldn’t sleep this night and neither did his mother, Katarina. They all stood outside of their tent looking on where the fight was taking place, both silent and shivering from the cold. Barkis and Frost were inside their tents sleeping soundly without any idea as to what was going on, for once Prince Amabel wished he was young like his brother and little uncle.

.....

“Are you scared?” Katarina asked her son, she reached out for his hand and squeezed it softly.

Amabel turned to her, “Are you?” he returned the question.

Katarina took a moment to digest all this, and then she whispered softly, “Yes”

“So am I mother. I just hope our men win this ambush so we don’t have to fight my uncle. They will forever sing songs about two kins slaying each other on the snow”

“I bet they’ll call it Battle of Kins” replied Katarina trying to find humor in the midst of the mischief.

Amabel smiled softly, small clouds of air came out of his mouth and it was clear he was freezing even though he was covered with a lot of layers. His head was also covered and his hands too, he wore thick black gloves.

“Or they’ll call it Battle of Stupid Taelins, fighting each other while we should be reunited in taking out a common foe” he said while pinching his jaws. “If my uncle were to support my claim as the true heir to the throne, we would have sacked Raven in less than ten minutes. His army combining with mine, we would be unstoppable. But he decided to fight me, grandfather must be turning on his grave right now”

Prince Amabel was hurt by his uncle and aunt’s betrayal. These weren’t just strangers who he never met before, but they were the people he grew up around with. Princess Thelma literally raised him, and she was his favorite aunt. Amabel remembered the days he would race against his aunt on the snow, they would laugh, tell tales and she always loved to squeeze him tight as a way of keeping him warm.

Since his mother was always with Barkis, that meant Prince Amabel was always with his aunt even before his grandfather’s death. Hence he was squeezed by Princess Thelma, and sometimes he would train with his wooden sword with his uncle, Prince Ambrose. Amabel was so attached to his uncle than his father, King Castellan.

Ambrose was kind, charming, and always full of jokes compared to Castellan who was serious most of the time and his face unapproachable.

The War of Kins was a story of family turning against each other and that showed how a throne can completely change someone’s heart and even their feelings. The very same aunt who loved her nephew with all her heart, was the same one who turned her back on him and even killed her husband just to keep a secret that her nephew was alive. Princess Thelma regretted her decision to kill Lord Lothar every day when the secret finally came out.

And the favorite and kind uncle turned sore and fought against his own nephew, the one he trained to fight with wooden sword and carried him during festivals and celebrations. So, what exactly made Prince Amabel hurt was the betrayal from his own family.

“They know it’s mine, the throne and the Kingdom. They are just doing this to prove to me how wicked they are, how hateful they can be” said Amabel showing the hurt on his face, he was avoiding his mother’s glance because he didn’t want to look on her eyes. “And for that they’ll pay, come dawn I shall have their heads” he claimed.

“Or you can spare their lives, they are still your kins”

This time Prince Amabel turned to look at his mother, “If they were my kins, they wouldn’t march with an army to fight my claim. They know I’m the true heir to the Silver throne, by doing this, they are enraging my father and I know he would want me to do this. To end this once and for all… because believe me mother, if it’s up to them, they won’t hesitate in taking my head”

Aprophil joined them and he agreed. “The boy is right Katarina, they won’t hesitate in taking all our heads, even your youngest because he is still a threat as long as he lives” he said with his hands on his pockets, he was freezing just like everybody else.

“I’m not a boy, my Lord Hand” Prince Amabel corrected him.

“Are you a man then?” asked Aprophil while raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, I’m a man grown”

“Then if you are man grown, lead your men tomorrow and fight. The ones who will return from the ambush, no matter their number because I believe we will lose men. Do you hear the clashes in the next village, that means Prince Ambrose’s men have been alerted and your men are fighting for you right now. They will retreat at last and join us, I want you to prove to them you are man come dawn. Lead them to victory…”

If there is one thing Aprophil was good at, then it was delivering motivational speeches and giving out morale to people. He went on to tell Prince Amabel the best words to strengthen his faith and also boost his mood, he was low in spirit and even he could see it.

A King with low spirit was a failure, Aprophil knew that better thanks to Lord Balrus who told him once. By the time he was finished, Amabel stood tall and instead of going to sleep, he called upon his best fighters and challenged them to bring on all they had to him.

The display of great swordsmanship shown by Prince Amabel had his men clapping for him and cheering him up. He defeated five men who were coming at him all at once, his ability to defend himself and properly using the sword to his advantage was simply magnificent. The men were delighted to see their King in good form, and their morale was boosted too as they waited for dawn.