Home / Fantasy / THE LAST SWORD MONARCH / Chapter 83: The Rider
Chapter 83: The Rider
Author: Felix
last update2026-10-08 00:00:00

The rider reached the palace gates two days after Cedren's clearing had gone quiet, exhausted and travel-worn, his horse lathered from a pace maintained well past what the animal could comfortably sustain, carrying a letter the captain had dictated in a hand not entirely his own, weakened as he still was from the wound.

Evandor read it alone in his study, and found himself, by the second line, entirely unable to make sense of what it was actually telling him.

Kaelor Vayne had att
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  • Chapter 84: Open Court

    The throne room filled quickly the following morning, nobles and court officials gathering in numbers Serelis hadn't seen since the original hearing, whispers filling every corner of the vast chamber as word of some announcement concerning the fugitive continued spreading despite no official statement yet reaching the wider court.She stood near the front of the assembled nobles, Mira a careful distance behind her, and watched her father take his seat upon the throne with a stiffness she hadn't seen from him before, something rigid in his bearing that unsettled her more than she could immediately explain.Zephar stood at his customary position near the throne's right side, and beside him, close enough to draw curious glances from the gathered court, stood Darian, dressed with more ceremony than the occasion seemed to call for."This court is convened," Evandor announced, his voice carrying with a flatness Serelis didn't recognize, "to address the confirmed conduct o

  • Chapter 83: The Rider

    The rider reached the palace gates two days after Cedren's clearing had gone quiet, exhausted and travel-worn, his horse lathered from a pace maintained well past what the animal could comfortably sustain, carrying a letter the captain had dictated in a hand not entirely his own, weakened as he still was from the wound.Evandor read it alone in his study, and found himself, by the second line, entirely unable to make sense of what it was actually telling him.Kaelor Vayne had attacked him on the road. Not a bandit, not a rival huntsman, but the very man assigned to track the boy in the first place. Cedren had nearly died. The boy was gone, freed by three strangers whose names Cedren gave only in passing, promising nothing further about who they were or why they'd come. And then, at the letter's close, a line that unsettled Evandor more than everything that had come before it combined.What I have learned cannot be safely written. I will explain everything in person,

  • Chapter 82: The Long Walk Back

    They left within the hour, Osric insisting that lingering too long near a dead Circle operative invited exactly the kind of attention none of them could afford. Garrick lingered only long enough to help Cedren settle more comfortably against the log, guilt plain on his face despite the captain's insistence that he'd manage well enough alone until he regained enough strength to travel."You should go with them," Cedren said, watching Garrick hesitate near the fire's cold remains. "Whatever's waiting for you, it's bigger than anything I can help you carry from here. I've done what I set out to do. Found you. Proved to myself, and hopefully to the king, that the story this kingdom told about you was wrong.""You could come with us," Garrick offered, though even as he said it, he understood the impracticality of it, a wounded man in no condition for wilderness travel, duties waiting for him back at the capital that none of them could simply abandon."You saved my life," Cedren said instea

  • Chapter 81: The Sword Monarch

    Garrick woke to morning light filtering through the clearing’s canopy, his shoulder aching but the worst of the previous night’s exhaustion finally lifted, and found Cedren propped against a log nearby, pale but breathing steadily with a fresh bandage wrapped tight across his side.“You’re alive,” Garrick said, relief plain in his voice.“Barely,” Cedren admitted, managing a faint, tired smile. “Though I understand I have considerably more reason to be grateful than most men who take a blade like that.”Yselle sat nearby, tending a small cook fire with the same efficient calm she’d shown healing Cedren the night before, while Torren leaned against a tree cleaning his blade, and Osric sat a short distance off, eyes closed, seemingly at rest though Garrick suspected the old man missed very little even like this.“You said you’d explain,” Garrick said, looking between the three of them. “Who you are. How you found me.”Torren glanced up from his blade, something easy and unbothered in hi

  • Chapter 80: Three Strangers

    The blade never reached him.A second shape burst from the tree line, faster than the first, and drove into Kaelor's fallen weapon-arm with enough force to send the already-dying strike wide, steel biting into earth instead of flesh.Garrick, still pinned against the clearing's edge, watched in stunned silence as a young man with a hunter's economy of movement pressed the advantage immediately, driving Kaelor backward with a series of strikes too fast and too controlled to be anything but years of hard-earned skill.Kaelor recovered quickly, years of discipline asserting themselves even through evident surprise, and matched the newcomer's aggression with a controlled defense that gave no ground easily, the two of them trading strikes in a rhythm too fast for Garrick to follow clearly in the darkness."Osric, the captain!" the young man called out, not looking away from Kaelor for even a moment, his voice carrying the rough edges of someone who spent more time ou

  • Chapter 79: The Eighth Night

    The attack came on the eighth night, well past the hour when even Cedren's careful watchfulness had finally begun to soften into exhaustion, his eyes heavy despite his evident effort to stay alert beside the dying fire. A week of guarded sleep had worn at him more than he'd let either of his companions see, the wound at Garrick's shoulder and the constant awareness of Kaelor's presence keeping him perpetually half awake even during the hours he claimed to rest.Garrick had grown accustomed, over those same nights, to sleeping lightly himself, some instinct honed across months of running refusing to let him settle fully into unconsciousness, and it was that same instinct that woke him now, some subtle wrongness in the clearing's stillness reaching him before any actual sound did.He opened his eyes to darkness, the fire burned down to embers, and the first thing he registered was Kaelor's shape, upright and moving, crossing the clearing toward Cedren's slumped, half-cons

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