Weaponforger (Guardian's Prophecy Book 3)

by D A Godwin

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I think we have asked more than enough of you already, Your Highness,” Eugeron said.

  She turned to face them. “You were willing to go to war with the elves in the hopes of grinding down the Ceringions. That such an outcome is no longer feasible I can accept. Yet now you are willing to make peace with them while doing almost nothing about the existing threat. Why?”

  Eugeron hesitated, and glanced at Redivers.

  “Go ahead and tell her,” Redivers said.

  “Because of Logian’s betrayal,” Eugeron said, his shoulders slumping. “Your brother was party to every one of our meetings, and knew of our plans. His actions yesterday would indicate that he intended to further his own designs and may well have been playing both sides against each other.”

  “Or that he was already in league with our enemies,” Redivers added. “His were not the only forces attempting to kill us. Either way, we must assume that others are now aware of what we intended.”

  “And again I must ask what role you expect me to play.”

  Eugeron took a deep breath. “You are correct, in that there are two things we wish from you, and I hope you do not think unkindly of us for it. In the now, we must ensure Lord Gilinster’s loyalty to Actondel, whether that be to your father or brother.”

  Shalindra shook her head. “You could have simply asked for that, and I would have agreed. And the second?”

  “The war with Ildalarial was our last hope for regaining control of our kingdom. That plan began to unravel the moment Ylnvan died, and by the time we escaped Logian’s attempted coup it was left in tatters. Actondel has no allies, Your Highness. If either Ceringion or the Conclave decide to move against us, we may well be sending you to Ildalarial begging for an alliance. Should that come to pass, you could be the bridge to them that we need.”

  “What he means,” Redivers said, “is that by this time next year, Ildalarial may be your family’s only hope for survival.”

  * * *

  Lord Gilinster arrived at the mansion that evening, at the head of fifty armed men. Shalindra awaited his arrival in the same room where they had arranged the treaty with Donatuc. Though the duke had been a frequent visitor to Merallin during her youth, his attentions had always been for her brothers, and she remembered him only distantly.

  Redivers had taken the precaution of placing at least three men in every room and hallway, and she would not have been surprised to find another hiding in an armoire. She was certain that Tormjere was the only protection she would need, but Redivers had been insistent on the show of strength and she was too exhausted to protest. All she could think about was getting through this meeting and gaining the signed treaty. It was her fervent prayer that her father would regain consciousness so she would no longer have an obligation to do these things.

  Enna is doing all she can.

  I know, and it is a blessing to have her here, but once again I find myself making decisions that should rightfully be determined by others.

  You’re better at it than you realize. It’s why they trust you.

  They trust me because they have no choice.

  Eugeron entered the room and announced the duke. Shalindra rose to greet him.

  Lord Gilinster was a tall man with thinning grey hair, and his broad shoulders and stiff bearing gave the appearance of a retired soldier. His eyes took in the room with a single sweep that seemed to supply all the information he needed.

  “Your Highness,” he said stiffly.

  “Lord Gilinster,” she replied with the proper amount of courtesy. “We are relieved to see you unharmed. Is your family well?”

  “They are, thank you. I was told the king did not accept my offer of protection because he could not be moved?”

  “He was sorely wounded during the attempt on his life and has slept almost continuously since receiving his injury.”

  Gilinster kept his demeanor neutral, but his voice betrayed his suspicion. “This situation is far removed from the one we arrived at in counsel with His Majesty just a short time ago. Can you explain what happened here?”

  “I will convey what has happened, but I do not know if it will explain anything. Ylnvan, the Conclave wizard who was assigned to my father, attempted to kill him two days ago when he learned that Ildalarial wished to pursue peace.”

  “The wizards grow more unreliable with every day,” Gilinster said darkly.

  “His Majesty had negotiated a treaty with the elves, and it was given to me to escort the elvish emissary home. We rode here with my father, as he desired to make the proclamation himself. When we arrived, we learned of the fighting and that you had been taken prisoner. Prince Logian…” Her words were blocked by a sudden lump in her throat.

  Eugeron came to her aid. “The prince became angry at His Majesty’s decision and attempted a coup, attacking his own father and leaving the king grievously wounded. Prince Logian was slain and his conspirators hung. The princess and Lord Redivers then prosecuted an attack to prevent the Ceringions from seizing the city or striking towards Merallin.”

  “That a wizard wished the king dead is credible, but for his prized son to attempt the same is not. Were these two men not here with you I would name you a traitor and have you executed before the sun sets.”

  Redivers bristled, but Shalindra raised a calming hand. “I made decisions out of necessity, not from any desire to rule Actondel. This is my father’s kingdom, and I have other responsibilities. Until he is recovered, you are wise to look to Lord Kentrick for guidance.”

  “It grows difficult to know who to trust. More than a few have accused you of being the one to murder your brother and father.”

  She should not have been surprised by that, but it hurt her all the same. “That is an unfortunate rumor, but a rumor it remains, and I shall allow my actions to counter it more effectively than any words I might speak. I will be leaving for Ildalarial as soon as I am able. My father will return to his throne, and it is he whom you should continue to support.”

  The duke looked unconvinced. “We shall see. I will maintain my city, and honor His Majesty’s accords, but we must have direction soon—and stick with it. Decisions so easily undone are just as easily ignored.”

  With a perfunctory bow he left them.

  You handled that well.

  It did not feel that way.

  Does it ever?

  “What are we to do with the king?” Redivers asked, breaking the silence. “Can he be moved?”

  “Yes,” Shalindra answered. “The journey may be uncomfortable, but his wound is sufficiently healed that he will suffer no additional harm. Do we have enough men to protect him?”

  “So long as the Ceringions honor their pledge.”

  Eugeron stroked his chin. “I agree that His Majesty should be returned home as soon as possible. A king in his own city is stronger than when he is in another’s, no matter how loyal a vassal controls it.”

  “We had hoped you would return with us,” Redivers said.

  “As did I, but I must see Enna safely to Ildalarial with news of the peace. I will see you safely on the road to Merallin, but beyond that, I do not know what my future holds.”

  A Promise Fulfilled

  Shalindra’s arrival in the capital of Eitholmir could not have been more different than her first visit. She had slipped in almost unnoticed then, but this time she rode surrounded by two dozen elvish warriors resplendent in shining armor of metal scales. The city had thrown open its doors in welcome, and throngs of elves came out to watch. Mothers presented their babies for blessings while minstrels danced down the streets in front of her. It was an exuberance that left Shalindra baffled and more than a little overwhelmed.

  The entire Grand Calontier had turned out to greet her, arraying themselves in a semi-circle in front of the temple grounds. She slid from her horse, and Enna and Tormjere did the same.

  Elothlirial raised a hand, and her voice carried above the hushed silenc
e that settled over the street. “It gives all our people great joy to see your return, Sister Ascendant.”

  Shalindra caught Enna’s surprise at her mother’s behavior, but in so public a setting there could be no contests. “I am equally pleased to bring word that Actondel has agreed to peace between our nations.”

  This proclamation drew a rousing cheer from all who had heard.

  Enna produced the case containing the signed document, but Elothlirial stopped her. “Not here. The Grand Calontier will review it later, in a more calm setting. Come. We will retire and make our plans.”

  They passed through the Glade of Worship and continued down the trail in the back, entering the Glade of Atonement where she had been initially tested. Four of the Sisters Superior awaited them, including the oldest who beamed as if Shalindra were her own daughter.

  Shalindra desperately wanted to sit down somewhere after the long ride, but Elothlirial spoke with the authority of one who would be responsible for the success or failure of what would come.

  “Your day has been long, but I would ask your forbearance for a few moments as we must prepare for the timing of the Ascension.”

  Shalindra indicated she should continue.

  “The ritual must coincide with the full moon. That which comes closest to the summer solstice is considered the most auspicious. Five of your predecessors have ascended at that time. The winter solstice is the least favorable, but the choice is yours alone.”

  “I have been waiting for years, yet I continue to feel an urgency I cannot ignore. I wish to proceed as soon as you are able.”

  Elothlirial looked at each of the other women in turn, and received nods of agreement.

  “Then it shall occur upon the next full moon, Her second cycle of the year, in nine days’ time. Given the short span of days before us, we must also select those who will participate. Three shall you have to lift you, as Elurithlia was given when she returned to the sky. I shall be the first, as such duties have always rested with the Manalathlia. Of the others, one will be of my choosing and one will be yours. Whom shall you request?”

  “I would ask Ennathalerial.”

  Enna’s green eyes sparkled with happiness. “I would be most honored to assist you.”

  Elothlirial turned to the woman closest to her, the same old woman who had spoken in support of Shalindra’s mission. “Avrilia, who has served Elurithlia longer than any of us, will you stand with us as we grant her Ascension?”

  The woman bowed. “There is no greater service in Her light.”

  “Each of the three shall in turn call three more to aid them, as it was in the beginning. This gives us twelve, one for each orbit of the moon in a year. Are there any others you would wish to include?”

  Shalindra shook her head. “Were they able, I would ask Sisters Adira, Marie, and Kayala, but I fear that none are close enough. In this, I must defer to your judgement.”

  “That decision may wait until tomorrow. Last, you must name your choice of protector.”

  “That is perhaps the easiest decision I have ever had to make. Tormjere will continue in that role, for I would never have reached this pinnacle without him.”

  Assuming you wish to stay, of course.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  Elothlirial spread her arms to include the entire gathering. “Then we are called to service in Her light. To this end, and in Her glory, we must prepare.” She dismissed the other clerics, who filed from the clearing.

  “Come,” Elothlirial beckoned Shalindra.

  They exited the glade, this time turning right down an intersecting path that wound its way deeper into the woods before reaching a series of small buildings.

  “These are the residences of those of us whose lives are devoted to Her service,” Elothlirial explained.

  She came to a stop before an ancient cottage. Its walls were of stacked stone now covered in patches of moss, with wooden shingles covering the roof. There was neither fence nor gate to obstruct the narrow path that connected their current trail with the doorway. The building was such a part of the forest that it could have grown there.

  Elothlirial opened the door. “This is yours, as it has been for every Guardian. The Velantriar will reside next to you. The strongest protections we can effect watch over us here, and there is no safer place in all the world.”

  Shalindra had to duck to enter. The interior was sparse, a single room containing only a bed, fireplace, and a writing table and chair. Eluria’s symbol was etched into a circular stone set above the mantle. Small windows allowed light to enter. The floor was of more recent construction than the walls by centuries, yet it was smooth and warped with age. The linens were fresh, as was the firewood stacked on the hearth.

  There was a calmness to the cottage, a cozy familiarity as it welcomed her with a warmth that penetrated her in ways no flame ever could. She bit her lip as she attempted to control the emotions surging through her. “Thank you.”

  “Your road has been long,” Elothlirial said kindly. “Rest tonight. Tomorrow you will learn what it truly means to be a Guardian.”

  * * *

  The days that followed were a whirlwind of preparations. Shalindra’s schedule was managed from sunup to sundown, and occasionally after. She spent countless hours learning the rights and responsibilities expected of a Guardian. What history Enna had touched on before, Elothlirial now conveyed in the most intimate detail. Every question Shalindra asked was answered without reservation. She was instructed on how to pronounce the elvish language in a manner that was reasonably proper, at least enough to navigate the ceremony.

  She was told that the city outside was festive and filled beyond capacity, but the enchantments surrounding the temple made it immune to the noise. Thousands had hastened to Eitholmir to witness her ascension, an event which had not taken place in almost two hundred years. Bells rang and singers added their voices to those of the birds that sang merrily in the canopy above. Shalindra had remained apart from it all, her every waking moment spent absorbing as much lore as she could.

  At last, all was ready.

  The final day before her Ascension was one of rest and atonement, a time in which Shalindra was blessedly left to her own devices. She chose to spend its entirety in the Glade of Guardians, surrounded by the only people who could truly understand what she was.

  It was quiet.

  She walked among them, and at other times she knelt or sat in the grass. Food was brought to her, though she ate sparingly. She spent hours studying every detail, seeking to learn the Guardian’s stories through the grain and texture of the wood that depicted their heroics.

  Yet always she was drawn back to Illathalirial, the powerful warrior who had defeated the wither hordes of legend. Most of the shriveled hands beneath her feet were attempting to grasp her and drag her down, but there were two, each cupping her heels, that could have just as easily been seeking the opposite effect. It was a curious thing, one of a million curiosities she wanted to have an answer for. And how does one defeat a horde? Would that each of them had left behind something more than a cryptic phrase to guide her.

  Shalindra wondered if it would be a demon or a wizard who would share her statue one day, and, if so, which of them would be standing above the other.

  * * *

  Dusk had settled over the forests of Ildalarial, and soft lights hovering above each of the Guardians lent the statues an almost magical glow. Enna stood beneath Illathalirial, wondering at what might have been, and what was. She was neither sad nor bitter. Had she the ability, she would change nothing of what had happened. But still, she wondered if she had done all that she could have.

  “Do you consider yourself a success now?”

  The words could have been her own, but there was only one man who knew her well enough to put voice to her inner struggles. She turned to see Tormjere leaning against a tree, watching her. “Did you come here to pose that question to me or to ask it of yourself?”

  “Mayb
e a little of both,” he answered as he joined her. “But I only have to live up to my own expectations, so the argument is easier.”

  Enna regarded the statue once more. “Shalindra is where she is meant to be, as am I. I rejoice in the part I have played, no matter how large or small it may have been, for it seems fate has chosen my role as surely as it chose yours.”

  “There’s a fine line between being chosen and being used. I haven’t done the things I’ve done for any prophecy or god, nor for any purpose save my promise to see her safe.”

  Enna saw the tremor in his hand and took it into hers, and this time he did not pull away. “And have you put your demons to rest?”

  “I think I’m learning to live with them. It’s not something that can be given up just yet.”

  “I long for the time when you will be freed of such requirements. Do you ever think of what might happen when this is over?”

  “Will it ever be over? Do you believe she will be the final Guardian, the one who defeats whatever it is that needs defeating?”

  “This cannot continue forever, can it? Every conflict has an end. Every battle a victor and a vanquished.”

  “I intend to see her on the winning side.” His hand slipped from hers. “No matter the cost.”

  She stared into his eyes, dark pools of determination that drew her into their infinite depths. She wanted to plunge into them, sink into who and what he was and let the currents take her where they may. Instead, she allowed her arms to return to her side.

  “No matter the cost.”

  Ascension

  Shalindra awoke to a morning that was clear and cool, rising as the sun was just beginning to color the sky. The hush of early morning surrounded her as she followed the narrow trail from her cottage to the immense Glade of Worship. The brightest stars still sparkled in the slowly brightening sky, their luster not yet obscured by the coming dawn. The moon was absent, though it would return in its full splendor late that afternoon. She would not see it again until it shone down upon her at the peak of the ceremony.