"I beg of you, your Majesty. My village is suffering and needs-"

"Seed for plowing and farming, am I correct?"

The gaunt farmer looked up in surprise. "Yes, that is correct."

"Very well." Kriel motioned to the treasurer at the right of the throne. The man brought forth twenty sacks of soybeans.

"What shall be the payment, my Majesty?"

Kriel smiled. "Pay us back when the harvest is well and thriving. That will be enough."

"My Majesty..."

"Please go and take the sacks. May the Lady shine on your planting."

Apalled and overjoyed, the farmer left, carrying the sacks in a beaten down wagon.

"My Lord, are you sure it was a wise idea for giving food to peasents?"

Kriel glanced at his advisor. "I am sure, Proditus. Without our subjects and new plants, we will starve."

"But it's better if we keep it. If the commoners do not wield a good harvest, we will starve. The king and his closest men should stay alive at least."

Sighing, Kriel got off the throne. "The subjects rely on us, and we rely on them. It is not only a noble's world. And I thought you were an advisor. No matter, I need to retreat outside."

"But, outside is-"

"Proditus, you are dismissed."

Proditus flinched from the prince's gaze, but backed away and bowed. "Your wish, my Lord."

"Thank you." With that, the young prince headed out the wooden doors.

The advisor stared for some time after the retreating figure. He suddenly smiled, with a devilish grin. "You will not be 'my Lord' for long..." Proditus hissed. "Soon, I will take your power. Soon, you will see why I will be a better king, and I will take your head and those devilish eyes and cast them away..."

"Jarald!"

Groggily, the squire dragged himself out of bed. His twin brother, Harald, was already fully dressed and was stringing his horn bow.

"What? Harald. Why so early?"

Harald snickered at the sleepy squire. "It's not early at all, brother. Check the dial."

Jarald glanced out the window and peered at the sundial set outside. Sure enough, the dial had a quarter of shadow on its round face.

"Harald! Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"If I did, you would be all cranky and murder me."

"At this rate, Knight-master Silvyren will murder me!" The squire rushed to change clothes and slip into his tunic. "This is bad."

"Well, I'm off."

"Thanks a lot."

"No problem, brother."

Jarald ran around, looking for his armguard and lance. He found them, under the bed that he and Harald shared. Quickly tying the armguard around his arm with one hand, he snatched up the lance and dashed out the door of the room.