DreamReaper_Blood of Kaos Series Book II

by Nesa Miller

  “Dar once told me it would take the strength of a demon to defeat his brother.” Etain pointed at the bed. “Look at him! What good did it do him?” She turned on the elf. “Midir may be dead in body, but his spirit lives in Dar. If a demon couldn’t defeat him, how the hell are a bunch of elf wizards gonna do any better?” She trembled at the memory of Midir’s influence. In fact, it was so strong, she had made every attempt to kill Dar when he had shown up at Midir’s castle. “He is beyond their magic.”

  Linq tried again. “Midir is well-known by the elves, Etain. How could we know Dar and not know of his brother? Alatariel will know what to do. The wizards can help.” He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let us help our High Lord.”

  She could handle arguing. It was a way to channel her fear. However, soft words of support and understanding were too much. Tears slid down her cheeks as she jerked her hands through her hair. Resembling a lost child, she looked at Inferno, then Spirit.

  Spirit walked up to her. “Come on, lass. Let’s get you sorted before you go.”

  “No, I’m okay.” Etain sniffled. “Really.” She turned to the elf. “You’re right, Linq. I’m sorry.” She bit her bottom lip as her eyes strayed to her husband. “He needs something I can’t give him.” Her fingers touched Dar’s. “How do we get to Nunnehi?”

  Linq told of a portal in the mountains at Torfaen Pass, no more than a few hours north of Laugharne. Wolfe and Elfin volunteered to help. Etain said she would shimmer the party to the portal, but Linq advised against it, considering the toll the afternoon had taken on her energies. They agreed she would shimmer Dar and Wolfe, while Linq and Elfin, being swift-footed, would meet them at the portal.

  After a quick farewell, the group departed…three in a blue shimmer, the other two in a mad dash to the mountains.

  At Torfaen Pass, in the light of a bright full moon, Etain and Wolfe gently laid Dar on a small patch of grass while they waited for the elves. Feeling a cold wind blowing through the Pass, Etain gave her arms a brisk rub. “I should’ve grabbed a cloak. I’d forgotten how chilly it gets up here.” She walked in circles, hoping the constant motion would warm her body.

  “Won’t be long until winter,” Wolfe said, busy trying to determine the location of the portal. “Any idea where it is?”

  “I think Linq’s the only one who knows.”

  “Not even Elfin?” he asked, scratching his head.

  She ran a hand through her hair. “Hell, I don’t know, Wolfe. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe we’re the only two in this world who don’t know.”

  He looked at her with a sympathetic eye. “Don’t worry, Lady E.” He nodded toward the sleeping Dar. “He’s strong. With a little help, he’ll pull through.”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “I hope you’re right.”

  Linq and Elfin crested the ridge. “Are you ready, milady?” Linq asked.

  “Aye. Are you? He’s no lightweight.”

  It was a group effort. Sweat, muttered curses, and strained muscles finally got Dar to his feet and balanced between the four escorts. The group faced north as Linq uttered the words in his native tongue, opening the portal. The moon shimmered, like a reflection on the water, and the mountains appeared to recede. A line of white light emerged, spreading out into an oval door. Through the portal, the travelers spied a magnificent countryside, resplendent with old, large trees covered in deep green leaves, bathed in the light of an early morning sun. The grass, thick as carpet, was dotted with multi-colored wildflowers and split by a small crooked river. Off in the distance, the tips of white spires peeked above the lush forest.

  On the other side of the portal, they were met by elves dressed in shades of blue, green, and grey, seated on horses of white and dappled grey. Two more sat at the helm of a large cart drawn by Bavarian-style horses, their coats brushed to a high golden sheen, setting off their white silky manes. Five elves dismounted and helped place the unconscious High Lord into the cart.

  An older elf, dressed in black, his brown hair pulled back in a silver clasp, spoke to Linq. “Her Majesty has ordered the High Lord be taken directly to his quarters.” He turned to Etain. “My Lady of Kaos…,” he greeted with bowed head, “Queen Alatariel has requested your company while we see to the High Lord’s comfort.”

  Linq made the introductions. “Etain, this is Commander Crom, hand-picked by Dar as Commander of the Black Blades of Nunnehi.”

  She had no clue what he was talking about but smiled. “Nice to meet you, Commander Crom.” She accepted his helping hand into the cart, moving to the front where she placed Dar’s head in her lap. “Thank you.”

  With a sudden lurch, the cart headed for the city. Linq, Wolfe, and Elfin were provided mounts of their own. The troop rode in formation, two abreast, along a well-traveled, winding road and into the city.

  12

  Evil Incarnate

  Wolfe turned in his saddle, his eyes wide. “What a place! Did you live here, Elfin?”

  “Not in Nunnehi, but not far from here. It’s been a long time.”

  A stone bridge extended over the river took the party into Nunnehi, and branched out into cobblestone streets that lined the city of white. Each street corner bore testament to the inhabitants’ celebration of nature. Lush greenery of aged trees draped over buildings, while others boasted colorful red or green ivy. Jewel-toned flowers bloomed in meticulous beds set throughout the city.

  Shimmering silver gates welcomed the entourage into the palace grounds. Cherry blossoms, swaying in the light breeze, their delicate blooms twirling through the air, lined the drive up to the main courtyard, the pale pink dancers adding a sense of serenity.

  Wolfe appreciated the delicate architecture of the white stone buildings, some with roofs of thatch, others adorned with regal spires stretching up to the sky. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun, trying to follow the tallest of the spires to its tip. He reined in his horse. “What the hell is that?”

  Elfin pulled up and looked back at his friend. “What, mate?”

  He had to lean so far back, he almost fell from his saddle. “That.” Wolfe pointed past Elfin. “It’s…It’s massive. It is the most massive piece of massiveness I’ve ever seen. Elfin…” He stared at his friend, then back to the structure. “It is massive.”

  “Oh, that.” Elfin chuckled. “That’s the palace.”

  He scanned from right to left. “It doesn’t look like stone.”

  “It’s not. It’s wood.”

  Wolfe scratched his head. “I don’t get it. There’s no joints or seams. It’s like one big piece.”

  “That’s because it is.” He laughed at the look on his friend’s face. “She is a tree.”

  “A tree? But it’s so…”

  “Massive?” Elfin’s face reflected his pride. “She is the center of the Elven world…our protector, our shelter, our mother.”

  It was too incredulous for Wolfe to believe. “People live…inside the tree?”

  “Aye, my friend. Come. Let me introduce you to Modertræ, our mother tree.”

  Coming into the palace courtyard, intricately carved golden doors opened to reveal seven warriors dressed in armor as black as night. On the left breast of each was a crimson sun surrounded by a golden crown of swords. Strapped across their backs was a black-bladed sword that reminded Etain of Ba’alzamon, the sword Dar once carried. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the black-clad warriors reach in to relieve her of her precious package. Feeling Dar shift brought her back.

  “No! What are you doing?” she asked, grappling to hold onto him.

  “Milady, he will be made comfortable in his chambers,” Commander Crom said with the utmost respect.

  “Oh, well, okay. But…” She sat up straight, lifting her chin. “I will stay with my husband. I won’t have him wake in a room full of strangers.”

  “Etain,” Linq said gently, drawing her attention. “These are not strangers. Each man has fought by his side at one tim
e or another. Alatariel has gone to great lengths to ensure he is surrounded by people he knows and trusts.”

  The commander added his assurances. “We were informed that he was administered a strong sleeping potion, milady. He should not wake anytime soon. You will be back at his side in no time.”

  “Speak with Alatariel,” Linq said, an encouraging smile on his lips. “Get to know her. You will see you have nothing to fear.”

  “Aren’t you coming with me?” Etain asked, suddenly feeling out of place.

  “I’m going to see about quarters for the rest of us. You are among friends, Etain. You will be fine.”

  “Dar would want you close by.” Freed from Dar’s weight, she reached out, touching Linq’s arm, lowering her voice. “I want you close by.”

  He leaned in so only she could hear. “It would be good for our young friends to mingle with others like them. We won’t be far.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You are the High Lady of Kaos. You do your part, and we’ll do ours.”

  “Whatever that is,” she said, accepting his assistance out of the cart. “I guess I’ll see y’all later.”

  With Dar safely placed on an elaborate litter, she kissed him on the brow in a silent goodbye, then watched as the Black Blades carried the High Lord through the great doors of the elven palace. Thirteen black-robed figures, also displaying the mark of House VonNeshta, joined the escort, chanting as they made their way down corridors of white.

  Commander Crom escorted the High Lady through the same doors, following the procession for a short time. Coming to an intersection of hallways, the High Lord, his Blades, and the priests turned in another direction. Etain and the Commander continued down grand hallways adorned by great arches carved into the walls. Some were decorated with sculptures or elven artwork, while others offered marble benches as a place to rest.

  Curious about these people who seemed to know her husband quite well, she asked, “Commander Crom, who were those men in the black armor?”

  “They are our warrior elite known as the Black Blades,” he said, continuing down the hallway, “second only to the Queen’s Royal Guard, both of which were the ingenious creation of our High Lord.”

  “Oh.” Etain followed, having to stretch her long legs to keep up with the elf. They turned another corner. “How long have you known the High Lord?”

  “Not long really.” He waved a hand in the air. “It’s not even been a half-turn yet.”

  “Half-turn?”

  Crom stopped before a set of magnificent golden doors and turned. “Almost a half-turn, but not quite.” The blank look on her face prompted him to explain further. “Forgive me, milady. In Alamir time, a half-turn would be two hundred and fifty years. To be more clear, we met roughly one hundred years ago, give or take a few years.”

  “Oh, of course. Not long at all,” she murmured, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She noticed the engravings on the golden doors, a scene depicting a great battle set in a dense forest, the ground littered with the fallen of both sides. A single warrior stood out from the others.

  Crom noticed her interest. “Milady?”

  “Who is the one in black?”

  “Death. The most formidable warrior of all.” He nodded to the guards, who stepped to either side of the grand doors. “This way, High Lady.”

  She held back. “We’re going in there?”

  “Yes, milady. The queen awaits.”

  “Behind the doors of death?”

  Crom sighed. “This is your first visit?” She nodded, captivated by the engraved scene. “It is a reminder of our mortality, High Lady. That is all.” He left her to her thoughts as he conversed with an attendant. The commander smirked, watching the young man rush off. “I do enjoy how the arrival of royalty sets everything in motion.” Etain looked up and down the hall. “When the door opens, I shall go first to announce you, then you will enter.”

  “Uh, okay, but what about the royal-”

  The great doors opened into a magnificent hall filled with elves dressed in every color she could have imagined. She heard soft whispers and the rustle of fine fabrics as they all turned. Feeling her heart race, her gaze darted up to the exquisitely carved ceiling that seemed miles above her head. Light poured in from the rows of curved windows atop panels of painted murals lining the walls on either side. The room conveyed an impression of floating on air, as though she walked on clouds.

  A voice from within called out, “Our most gracious Highness, lords and ladies of Nunnehi… The High Lady of Kaos, Princess of the Realm, and Queen of Krymeria.”

  Although mesmerized by the grandeur of the space and the multitude of people staring at her, Etain felt a sense of peace and well-being. It was a large hall, yet it felt weightless and airy, partly due to the paleness of the walls, partly to the light flooding through the windows. The intricate carvings on the floor reminded her of fine lace. It was this attention to detail that gave the room, and the palace, the impression of floating.

  Commander Crom entered the hall, completing her introduction. “Our High Lady, Etain Rhys VonNeshta.” He stepped aside with a flourish. She stared at the man for a moment, wondering how he could know her full name when they had only just met.

  Silence. Etain, suddenly feeling exposed, gave Crom a nervous smile and stepped into the hall. She gazed around the room, smile still in place, making eye contact with as many elves as possible. Coming back to Crom, he motioned toward a violet-carpeted path between the sea of onlookers. She lifted her chin and set one foot in front of the other. As she passed, each courtier either kneeled on one knee and bowed or gave a deep curtsy. Etain wondered if perhaps there were someone more important trailing along behind her, but fought the urge to turn and look. As she approached the royal dais, Alatariel smiled. Etain hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

  “You are a true queen indeed, Lady Etain.”

  Etain bowed her head. Somewhere from deep inside came the proper words. “Greetings, Your Grace. May the light bless you and darkness flee before your presence.”

  Alatariel stood, smiling at the young woman. “Greetings, High Lady. May the light bless you and darkness flee before the might of your blade. Welcome to Nunnehi.”

  Etain smiled during the kissing of cheeks, handshakes, and warm embraces that welcomed her. Acceptance of her as High Lady put her at ease and made her feel like part of a very large family. Once the introductions were completed, Alatariel dismissed the court.

  “Etain, please join me in my private chambers.” Linking arms with the High Lady, she led her toward a suite of rooms off the main hall. At the door, she turned to the commander. “You may go, Commander.”

  “Pardon, Your Grace, but as the High Lord is in the capable hands of the War Wizards and guarded by the Black Blades, it is my duty to watch over the High Lady.”

  With a slight bow of her head, she smiled and stepped back as Crom opened the door. Inside, Alatariel motioned Etain toward a deliciously overstuffed chair, one of four, covered in luxurious fabrics of spicy red, orange, and warm gold. Set in a sunken area draped in sheer voiles of red and orange cascading from a center point of the ceiling, the room was a bold contrast to the peaceful white and cream of the grand hall. The floor, covered with a plush carpet of deep red, tempted the High Lady to take off her boots and run her bare feet through its deep pile. Etain was enchanted. She snuggled into a chair that offered her the full spectrum of the room, its perspective also giving her a glimpse of the innermost private garden, sheathed in glass and framed by red sheers.

  “You look exhausted, Etain,” Alatariel said, turning to a young girl with long blonde hair dressed in soft pink who stood on the upper level. “Sasha.” The girl curtsied and disappeared through an inner door.

  Etain ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been an eventful few days, Your Grace.”

  Alatariel sat in the chair across from her. “Please, call me Rie. There’s no need for formalities. We are equals.”

  A nervous laugh esc
aped her lips. “Okay, your, er…Rie. All this is a bit overwhelming.”

  “Dar has not prepared you,” the queen stated, shaking her head. “I suppose it’s to be expected. It has been a long time for him.”

  Sasha returned and set a tray on the low table in the center of the chairs. She smiled at the High Lady. “Tea, Your Grace?”

  Etain responded to the girl with a blank stare. “Oh, yes, please. Thank you.” With the tea served, Sasha retreated from the room, giving the women their privacy. Etain picked up her cup and blew lightly over the hot liquid. “A long time?”

  Alatariel stirred her tea, her eyes on the High Lady. “Since Alexia.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Of course.” Etain dared a sip of the steaming liquid to collect her thoughts. Finding it too hot, she set the cup down. “I’m sure she was well-trained in what was expected of a High Lady. No disrespect to her, but I don’t intend to follow in her footsteps. I have my own ideas of what it takes to be a High Lady of Kaos.”

  Alatariel’s eyes sparkled. “I have no doubt you are up to the task. You’ve already proven your resourcefulness by bringing him here. But there’s something you should know.” She delayed the moment with a sip of tea. “Alexia was not a High Lady of Kaos.”

  “Huh?” Her brows arched. “Dar said they were married.”

  “Yes, before the whole of Krymeria. I was told it was quite a day.”

  She eyed the queen, thinking she had become the butt of a bad joke. “Dar is the High Lord of Kaos.”

  “At the time of their marriage, he was merely a prince. He didn’t earn his right to be called High Lord until much later. You, alone, hold the title of High Lady of Kaos.”

  She shifted in her seat. “By later, you mean after Alexia and the children…”

  “That unfortunate incident began his journey to Nunnehi.”

  Etain tried her tea again, finding it easier to handle. “Linq said you knew Midir.”

  “Yes, I had the misfortune to meet him a time or two.”