Free The Stolen Prince (Blood for Blood Book 1) by Tom Wright, K.L. Gee Page A

We must try first for this.”
    “You mean the boy,” someone said.
    “Yes, I mean the boy.”
    “And trust an Alem ?” Windfather shouted. “You are putting the fate of the Terra in the hands of our enemy’s son.” Skeet could see Gage sighing. Windfather was stirring their opponents up. Murmurs of anger moved across the circle. Skeet grew nervous.
    “I say we need to go to war!” Windfather said. “If we use the boy, then use him to hurt the king.”
    Another guardian stood up, facing Windfather. “You dare to deny prophecy? To ignore legend?” He looked around, eyes meeting the other faces. “There will be the bridge between two peoples…”
    The noise was increasing. Gage and Tip glanced at each other, worry on their faces. Some already had their hands grasping stones and daggers.
    “Let me speak.”
    Everyone looked toward the voice, but nothing was there. Then suddenly Hakon was standing in the center of the circle, before the chiefs and scribes. Skeet was immediately annoyed. What a show off , he thought. Had he been hiding in the shadows all this time?
    Hakon kneeled, putting his dagger to his forehead. His tattoo glistened scarlet and gold in the firelight. Hakon then stood. “Terra people, I believe in your cause. In our cause. Let me go. Let me finally reveal who I am and reason with the king. I cannot see our people die… and I do not want to kill my family before I know them.”
    “This is not about your own desires, boy.” A chief snapped.
    Hakon turned, fire reflecting in his eyes. “I am one of you! As much as you have tried to remind me I am not, I am one of you. I honor the code, I worship the Master, and I honor the earth. I have lived and fought in desolation. I want vengeance as deeply as you do. Let me do this thing for your people, my people. Isn’t this why you robbed me from my cradle? Isn’t this why you took me from my true home?” He turned to look around at all the gathered hunters, guardians, and chiefs. His eyes caught Skeet’s. “King Arden would slaughter you or enslave you, but perhaps his own son can persuade him otherwise. If we have that chance, that chance for retribution without bloodshed, shouldn’t we take it? Let me do the thing you intended for me to do.”
    Hakon barely finished speaking when Windfather turned to him and said, “We did not all agree then of your purpose, and not all of us agree with it now. You may love this people—and as you should. We have raised you. But you are still the son of the Alem, the offspring of murderers and tyrants. You are tainted with the blood of the enemy, and you cannot remove their mark.” Windfather took his hatchet and pointed the tip to Hakon’s tattoo.
    Skeet saw the burning in Hakon’s eyes. His calm demeanor was evaporating in the face of Windfather’s words. Tip quickly stepped forward, taking Hakon’s arm and pulling him back. Windfather smiled. Just like his children, he aimed to provoke Hakon to fight.
    “Then let fate decide!”
    Skeet stood, as the other warriors around him did, looking for the person who called for the duel. This was what they had expected, what they had planned for, but Skeet had held on to the vain hope the tribes would come to an agreement. All the chiefs in the inner circle looked at each other and nodded.
    A tall chief stood. “To go to war immediately or send the boy. These are the choices. Are there any other disputes?” Tip and Windfather eyed each other in silence, and then both shook their heads.
    “A duel of decision!” The shout went up among the youngest hunters, aged twelve or thirteen, always hungry for a fight.
    The tall chief silenced them. “Guardians, who shall fight?”
    Gage stepped forward to put his hand on Hakon’s shoulder. “Hakon will fight, as he should.”
    One of the guardians from Windfather’s tribe stepped forward. “It is our tribe that fights for war. One of the Three Winds should fight for the honor of their father.”
    “I will fight