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It was the King.

‘I would hazard a guess that you know why I am here,' he said, entering the room.

‘Your intelligence is almost as exceptional as your selfishness,' Ayul replied, belatedly adding ‘sire.'

'Hostility is not an admirable trait, Ayul.'

'And you would know of admirable traits?' Ayul scoffed.

'You must let the past rest, Ayul,' the King said, his green gaze unwavering. 'You would do well to forget it. I already have.'

'You killed my father, old man!' Ayul hurled the knife at the door, causing a thud of exclamation. 'Never will I forget such treachery.'

A silence grew between them, but had no chance to fully bloom. 'It was necessary,' urged the King. 'Necessary for the growth of Tyrill. His sacrifice made our home a bigger and better place.'

'You're pathetic, Thesius. The only reason you still hold the throne--'

'I hold the throne because I am the rightful King, Ayul,' he bellowed. 'And if so much as a whisper of the truth regarding your father's demise is heard by the Soldiers, you know the consequences. You have done well in keeping the secret so far, General. Do not slip up now.'

'My men would overthrow you in an instant,' Ayul retorted, harnessing his anger.

'Your men? The same men you have left to die, Ayul?' the King said, changing tact. 'You are so quick to point out my egocentricity, but it is you who are displaying the ultimate act of selfishness. The entire Realm knows of your unparalleled swordplay, but unfortunately your skill does not extend to the rest of our army. You may be unbeatable, but they are not. They are dying out there. They need you.'

'You already know where I stand on this matter, Thesius. I will never again fight under your banner. Kindly take your leave.'

The King blinked, but a wrinkled mask of hatred concealed any other sign of shock. He moved towards the door. 'Incidentally, where is your beautiful sister?' he called slyly over his shoulder.

Ayul ignored him.

Unbeknownst to the General, his King's lips curled in a malicious smile. 'Oh, I remember,' he whispered. 'She was being displayed with the other captives. Brutal people, those Barbarians. You know, people say they sew prisoners' eyes shut so that they cannot anticipate their torture. Truly not a pleasant experience, I'm sure...'

'Do not jest about such things!' Ayul yelled, his anger rekindled.

'Perhaps I jest, perhaps not. Perhaps you should trust me, as you did all those years ago.'

Tyrill's General roared in agitation as the door swung shut behind the King. Could the vile man have been telling the truth? It was possible. Ayul had heard rumours of vast numbers of Barbarians attacking the walls, far more than was anticipated. The defence parties would be outnumbered horrifically.

It was not only his sister out there. His men were losing their lives, good men, fighting without his familiar leadership. Guilt seeped through him. The more he thought about it, the worse the feeling became, until it threatened to overcome him. He didn't know whether the Barbarians held any prisoners at this stage, but it was conceivable.