Whill of Agora: Epic Fantasy Bundle (Books 1-4): (Whill of Agora, A Quest of Kings, A Song of Swords, A Crown of War) (Legends of Agora)

by Michael James Ploof

  Tarren mounted with Lunara and the group began the long journey through Uthen-Arden territory to Elladrindellia. It would take them the better part of two weeks to get to the elven borders, even though their horses were a long-distance breed. Traveling through Elladrindellia to Cerushia would be another ten-day.

  Chapter 6

  The Cost of Fealty

  Dirk attempted to mask his horror as he watched Eadon’s army prepare to pour through the portal. He did not know where the portal led, but it didn’t matter. Soon the already overwhelmed people of Agora would wake to a new nightmare. He knew then, looking out over the massive army of abominations, that Agora was truly doomed.

  He had sided with the victor, it seemed. Krentz was safe, they were together once more, and as long as Dirk kept his promise of fealty to Eadon, they would remain that way. This fact should have brought more comfort to the assassin, but it brought none.

  He stood next to Eadon before the dead land and its legions of monsters. He tried not to think too loudly, to clear his mind. But the images of burning towns, cities, women and children plagued his mind and pierced his armor of detachment. He saw the face of his sister, gone now nearly forty years. She had died at age two during a bad winter sickness that had swept the land. Dirk had vowed then that whatever god would take her as his own was an evil god, and he would strive always to eradicate the world of men of like heart. He was a killer true, but he was a killer of killers mostly. In his long career he had never taken a contract in which he had not known the target to be deserving of death. Dirk’s services came with a high price, and thus he was hired to kill men of such worth. In his line of work his employers had been rich merchants, businessmen, bankers, and even kings. He was glad to help eradicate the scum of Agora. Being paid for it was a bonus.

  “You must think me a prime target for your righteous justice,” said Eadon without looking at him.

  Dirk did not answer. He was not about to attempt lying to the dark elf lord. Eadon knew his mind; he could feel the constant presence at the edges of his consciousness, always watching. Dirk knew also that Eadon could see clearly his resolve to keep his vow, regardless of his conflicting morals. He did not attempt to hide his disdain for Eadon, for he could not regardless.

  Eadon looked at him as he thought this, and he grinned. “You are a bold warrior indeed.”

  Dirk stole a glance at Eadon and gave a grin of his own. “I do not fear you.”

  “Indeed!” laughed Eadon. “The only thing you fear is losing your beloved dark elf tramp.”

  Dirk’s upper lip twitched a snarl. “Such words for your own daughter?”

  “Daughter of mine,” Eadon said, as if to himself. “My children are legion; you look upon them as we speak. If ever I have failed, it is with her. She is weak minded, insolent, and a traitor.”

  Dirk quietly fumed, knowing full well that Eadon was toying with him, savoring the anger that he caused.

  “But she has ever set the hearts of men and elves afire,” Eadon added with a smirk.

  Dirk ignored the barb, knowing his rage to ever be impotent against the powerful elf. He looked out past the horrid army to the ever-hazy sky of Drindellia. He loathed this place. It reminded him of nothing but death, of Agora’s fate.

  “Worry not of that. The sniveling humans of Agora will see that they stand no chance. The dwarves will hide in their stinking mountains, and the elves of the sun shall kneel to me, or they will die. Take heart, my assassin; you will be a king of men when this is through. Now, for your next—what did you call it? Contract?”

  Dirk looked at the hated dark elf, his imagination running wild with hideous possibilities.

  “You are to travel to Eldalon and kill Whill’s remaining relatives; his grandfather, King Mathus; and every last man, woman, and child. Without their beloved leader, Eldalon will be driven to its knees.”

  Dirk returned to his chambers to say goodbye to Krentz. He stopped before the door, his hand a mere hair’s breadth from knocking. He retracted his hand as if he had been burned. Shame washed over him and his throat constricted painfully.

  For the first time in his life he was trapped; for the first time he was the victim of a more cunning and powerful foe. He had never before bent to the will of anyone; he would be controlled by no one. Whenever in his life he had been attacked by a bully, either physically or verbally, he would beat them down. He made such a scene as to show everyone in his circles that if you attempted violence or disrespect toward Dirk Blackthorn, you were a dead man. And now, because of his relentless pursuit of Krentz, he had sold his soul to evil in the name of love. For the first time in his life, he felt like an idiot.

  If I do not do Eadon’s bidding, or ever act against him, I will die. If I die, Krentz will lose what protection I can give her.

  Dirk silently screamed and pulled at his black hair. His frustration swelled and his rage boiled at the impossibility he had been given. He could not even conspire against the dark elf. He had learned that the hard way when last he spoke to Krentz. They had been considering ways of escape and how they might break the oath. Dirk had been racked with a gut-burning pain that left him gasping on the floor. He could not resist, and for Krentz he gave in. Had the circumstances been different and Dirk did not have her to lose, he would have told Eadon to eat his own shyte and he would have died fighting.

  He took a deep, calming breath, which came out in a nervous shudder. He opened the door and she was waiting. Before the door closed she had confronted him at the threshold. Tears streaked her eyes and he knew that she had somehow learned of his newest mission.

  “You cannot do this,” she said before he could speak. He avoided her eyes and shut the door behind him.

  “I must—”

  “You cannot! You should have never sworn fealty to him; you should never have found me. You will die because of me.”

  Dirk tried to charm her from her mindset with her favorite smile. He put a hand softly to her smooth, dark face. Her tattoos swirled slowly, churning like her emotions. She took his hand from her face and gripped is firmly with both hands at her breast.

  “I will not die because of a dream you—”

  “Then you shall be forced to do things that will change you forever,” she said. “You may not die, but you will not be able to live with yourself if you become Eadon’s monster!”

  “What would you have me do?” he screamed, yanking his hand away. The crystal walls of the chamber rang faintly with his voice.

  “You cannot kill the innocent; you are not an evil man. It will tear you apart…”

  Dirk’s face, Krentz saw, was one of resolve and determination. In his eyes she saw something she never had before. She saw the shadow of the man he might become if he continued down this dark path.

  “I will do what I must to see you safe,” he said.

  “It is not up to you to keep me safe. I am not like your people. Your chivalrous sentiments are not for me.”

  “And neither are you like your people,” he argued.

  She ignored the statement, not letting him divert the conversation. “You cannot do this,” she said, grabbing hold of his arm as he turned away from her.

  “I must,” he said firmly and pulled his arm from her grip.

  “If you will do this, what will you not do? If you would kill an entire family, what will you not do?”

  Her accusatory words cut through his enchanted cloak and leather armor to pierce his heart. He walked to the door and turned to her at the threshold. In her eyes was the smallest glimmer of hope that he might be swayed from his path. That hope was crushed when he spoke.

  “I will do whatever it takes, Krentz. For you I would see the world burn.”

  He turned to leave but suddenly swooned and fell to one knee. He shook his head to clear it, thinking that it was his inner turmoil over Eadon’s orders that had caused him to feel so…poisoned. He cursed under his breath and his head spun again, dropping him to both knees. He knew he did not have time. A
panic fueled by the realization of what Krentz had done and what she might do sent a surge of adrenaline through his body and he shot to his feet. His eyes tried to focus on one of her images, but all he could make out was the needle ring on her left hand, which was held out toward his face. He staggered toward her like a drunkard and reached for her weakly. He took her by the shoulders as if to shake her, but ended up needing her to lower him to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes and he managed to utter, “Wh…what have you done?”

  “Shhh.” She whispered as a mother might. “Fret not, my dear Blackthorn. I love you. Remember that I will always love you.”

  Dirk struggled against the drug but quickly fell into oblivion.

  Krentz walked briskly through the crystal corridor to her father’s quarters.

  “Father, Father!” she cried as she approached the door to his chamber and beat upon it. “Father, open the door! I would have words.”

  After a long moment the door finally opened, and Eadon scowled down upon his renegade daughter.

  “You would have words, would you? What words would my spiteful daughter have?”

  “I come to barter.”

  Dirk came to and found himself on unfamiliar ground. The brightness of the world stung his eyes. His vision was blurry and his head pounded. He tried to stand and found his legs unresponsive.

  How did I get here? he wondered. He fought through the thick fog in his mind and the truth came rushing back to him. He had been poisoned by Krentz. They had been arguing about his mission and then he had fallen. She had said something to him as he passed into unconsciousness…she had said…goodbye.

  His mind cleared and panic gripped his heart. What had she done?

  “Krentz!” His voice was slurred, and the after-effects of the drug caused him to stagger as he stood. He looked around frantically and saw Eadon standing a stone’s throw away, his form silhouetted in the churning light of what looked to be a portal. They were in a forest clearing, and Dirk knew from the foliage and trees nearby that he was no longer in Drindellia.

  “What has she done?” he screamed and lurched toward the hated dark elf. His legs buckled but he found them quickly, the effects of the poison wearing off.

  “Where is Krentz? What has happened?” he bellowed, his voice hoarse. Eadon grinned at him, thoroughly amused by the spectacle. Dozens of dwargons and draquon stood guard near to the portal, hissing and growling at Dirk as he stumbled toward their master. He ignored their warnings.

  “What have you done, you son of a bitch?” he cried.

  Eadon let out a long laugh. “As much as I looked forward to your services, assassin, Krentz made me an offer I could not refuse.”

  Dirk shook his head in denial and tears found his dark eyes.

  “You are free, Dirk Blackthorn. I release you from your oath.”

  As the words were spoken, Dirk felt the difference within him immediately. His vision cleared, and as he slowly neared the portal, he could see Krentz standing behind her father, beyond the rippling threshold. Here form shimmered and wavered, but it was she.

  “Krentz, no! What have you done?”

  “Enough out of you!” Eadon roared. He raised a hand and Dirk was lifted from his feet and held in midair by the throat. His cries were choked as his hands clawed at the phantom noose that held him.

  “You are free, but if ever we cross paths again, you will be mine even after your death.”

  He let Dirk drop to the dirt and turned to the portal. Dirk sprang to his feet and sprinted after him. As Eadon stepped through, it began to shimmer. Krentz lifted a hand in farewell and Dirk screamed. The portal closed as Dirk dove and he went through the empty space only to land on the other side in the grass.

  Dirk got to his feet and screamed in rage. He then noticed the dozens of beasts that still guarded the portal. He was cornered. He planted his feet and drew his short sword and mind-control dagger. He threw the dagger at the closest dwargon, and when it stuck in the monster’s thigh, Dirk yelled, “Kill them all!”

  The dwargon roared in compliance, having no will to fight the power of the persuasive blade. The creature attacked the draggard to his right, grabbing its tail and with powerful arms swinging it to smash into the one next to it.

  “The draggard are attacking your brother!” Dirk yelled to the other confused dwargon. The mammoth abominations were thick-skinned like a dragon and strong like a dwarf, but they shared the intellect of neither. Eadon didn’t like his creatures thinking too much, which worked to Dirk’s advantage. He went to work on the closest draggard. Using his enchanted cloak to ward off glancing spear and tail attacks, he rolled and twirled and danced around his attackers. He knew the beast’s weak spots and he took every advantage. He hamstrung those he did not kill and threw darts into the eyes of others.

  He caused such chaos that he was able to slip quickly out of the deadly ring of thrashing monsters. He retrieved his dagger from the dead dwargon and sprinted west toward a distant mountain range and away from the fighting guardians of the portal. He knew not where he was, but he knew that if Krentz had sworn fealty to her father, Eadon would give her Dirk’s mission. That meant she would soon be in Kell-Torey. No matter which mountain range was before him, Eldalon would be west of it.

  As Dirk ran, he retrieved a dart from his belt and jabbed it into his forearm. He felt the effects immediately as his heartbeat surged, his head cleared, and his lungs drew in twice as much breath. He doubled his pace as the drug coursed through his veins. He ran faster than a horse out of the woods and through a long field of golden wheat, but he knew he would soon need to find a horse if he was to make it to Kell-Torey in time to stop Krentz. He prayed that the far-off range was the Ky’Dren Mountains as he made haste to save his love from the beckoning of her mad father.

  Chapter 7

  The First King of Elladrindellia

  When Whill left the cottage, he was greeted by Avriel. Her dragon smile would have killed a deer from fright, but to Whill it was beautiful. She moved her head to the side to show Whill the large saddle upon her back. Thick leather straps wound before and behind her front legs to hold the large saddle in place.

  “Where did that come from?” Whill asked as he stepped closer to inspect it.

  Mother made it. You could fill a dwarven vault with the things she has made. Do you like it?

  “I do indeed. No offense, but your scales are not the most comfortable to sit on.”

  She laughed, surely startling any nearby animals. None taken. Come, try the new seat, I have much to show you.

  He didn’t hesitate and stepped through the rung hanging from the saddle. The seat was well padded and soft, with flaps hanging from the sides to protect the legs. There were also a number of possible handholds upon the horn of the saddle. He took hold. Avriel leapt, beat her strong wings, and took to the sky.

  Twilight was upon them as they climbed higher above the city. Far below Whill saw the constellation of lights aglow atop the many pyramids. The sun had just set, but its light had not. Rays of sunlight could still be seen gliding atop the encroaching twilight. Whill and Avriel soared gently on the warm autumn air; they flew between the heavens and the earth, between day and night. They existed for a moment between worlds, and Whill could have stayed there forever. Here his destiny could not find him, his pain was forgotten; his worries could not climb this high, and his cares could not follow.

  What if we never return? he asked Avriel, absentmindedly gazing upon the last rays of light, like pillars to the heavens.

  What do you mean? she asked, as if the thought had never occurred to her.

  “I mean what if we were to leave Agora forever, find another place to live, a place far from this constant strife? I never wanted any of this. I was quite content with my life up until…” He paused and thought about when his life had started to spin out of control. It was when I learned of my parents, within that vault, he thought, and then felt guilty for it.

  You would not leave Agora forever. For
you would ever wonder of its fate, and when finally you were driven mad by wonder and guilt you would return to find a smoldering wasteland.

  Whill knew her to be right. He could not abandon Agora if there was any hope that he might be able to help defeat Eadon. It seemed there was nowhere to go anyway; the elves had escaped only to be discovered a world away in Agora. The same nagging feeling of helplessness came back to him. He knew he stood no chance against Eadon. What could the elves possibly teach him in such a short time that would help him against a master of every school of elven magic? How could Whill possibly hope to defeat him?

  Together he and Avriel flew over the Thousand Falls and beyond by moonlight. For nearly an hour they flew north over forests and streams, valleys and fields. Flying low to the ground they suddenly came to an end to the land. It dropped off to crashing waves and ocean spray. Whill howled as they broke through a foaming wave as it smashed against the rocks. Salt water fell from them like threads of silver in the moonlight.

  Avriel rose above the waves and twisted in flight to face the land once more. She glided down gently toward the jagged rocks and through them into the mouth of a wide eastern-facing cave. Whill’s breath was taken away as Avriel landed not far from the entrance. Crystals of all sizes and shapes protruded from the walls and ceiling. Even in the dull moonlight he could see the spectacular array of colors within the luminescent depths of the crystal. He dismounted and explored the nearby formations.

  This and similar crystal mines are littered throughout the land, Avriel purred, and the crystal resonated with her dragon voice. If only I had my voice, I could show you how the crystal sings.

  “Are these natural?” Whill asked as he glided his hand along the smooth surface of a crystal larger than he.

  No, these are not. We helped them to grow long ago. They are used in many of our tools and weapons.

  “It is beautiful,” said Whill.