Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4)
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Farindian Summer
By Loren K. Jones
Twilight Times Books
Kingsport Tennessee
Farindian Summer
This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are used fictitiously and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Loren K. Jones. Expanded and revised from a previous electronic edition published by e-Quill Publishing, Brisbane, Australia 2010 with title “Farindian Summer.”
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
Twilight Times Books
P O Box 3340
Kingsport, TN 37664
www.twilighttimesbooks.com/
Revised Electronic Edition: May 2017. Author’s preferred version.
Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Prelude
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Prelude
THE ZEL’HESTEL ESTATE IN SOUTHERN FARINDIA was a beautiful place. Roads bordered by hedges of blackberry and raspberry bushes passed through orchards of apple and pear trees. Well-tended fields of barley, oats, and wheat filled every flat area. In the center, a manor house that was older than the province that had become the Land of Farind stood strong and tall, more fortress than simple home, but a home nonetheless. However, the seeming tranquility of the outside was not to be found inside.
“It cannot be allowed!” Lord Cevin Zel’Hestel the Sixth stood and screamed in his study. Around him, in an assortment of ornate padded chairs, sat the other six Lords of Eastern Farindia. He was too old for such outbursts, and clutched his chest as he staggered back to his heavily-carved chair. “It cannot be allowed,” he continued in a more moderate tone as his personal servant all but forced a goblet of wine into his hand and encouraged him to drink.
A younger man, though still a white-haired elder who had known most of the others as children, shook his head. “There doesn’t seem to be a lot we can do about it, Lord Cevin. There are only our seven Chosen Houses left to oppose them.”
“We did well enough after the rebellion, Lord Zel’Korvalas,” Lord Zel’Hestel said in a harsh tone that was barely above a whisper.
“We faced rabble then,” another, significantly younger lord pointed out. “The Evandian Army is not rabble.”
“No, Lord Zel’Esten, they are certainly not,” a very young man agreed. Where the most of the lords were elders, he looked like he was barely old enough to shave. “My grandfather is of the opinion that we should oppose them, but our resources are limited. The Zel’Freedan estate can field a hundred trained fighters and three hundred auxiliaries.”
“We can field about the same,” Lord Zel’Anlar sighed. “We’ve all maintained the same strength we had after the rebellion. I doubt any of us could field much more than that though.”
Lord Zel’Barnal nodded. “You’re right about that, Gabrin. Zel’Barnal can field even less, just the hundred trained men of the treaty and another hundred auxiliaries. Gods Below, we’ve never needed more than that. We’ve only had to fight Kavadian bandits, and we’ve always had the Old Guard in Kel’Kavin to call on in an emergency.”
“And now it’s the Old Guard and their upstart prince that we need to defend against,” Lord Cevin pointed out. The rest of the lords quieted down and looked glum at the reminder of who they were opposing.
Chapter 1
“SIRS, NO!” STAVIN CRIED AS HE FACED the Elders’ Council of Kavinston. The time-darkened wood of the council chamber kept his voice from echoing, but the dim light of the oil lanterns didn’t hide the anguish on his face. Me? An Elder? They can’t be serious!
Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey bowed his head, his iron-gray hair falling forward until he brushed it back with a flick of his fingers and once again focused his attention on Stavin. “Prince Stavin, it must be this way,” he replied. “You are second in line to the Evandian crown. As the only Chosen member of the community, you should at least be on the Council, if not the Chief Elder.”
“You are also,” Warmaster Kel’Horval pointed out, “the highest ranking Warmaster in Kel’Kavin, Senior Warmaster Zel’Andral. By tradition you are now the Warmaster of the Academy,” he continued as he stood and stepped aside, “and this chair is yours.”
“No, sirs,” Stavin replied as he shook his head and took a step backward, away from the Elders. His voice was soft with shock as he looked at the Elders one by one. “No, I can’t be the Warmaster.” He took another step backwards, away from the Elder’s table and everything it represented, as he continued to shake his head. “I can’t.”
Warmaster Kel’Horval walked around the table and stopped when he reached Stavin. He looked down into his son-in-law’s face and sighed. “It is our tradition,” he said softly, “that the highest-ranking warrior leads the Academy, Stavin.”
“But I can’t teach them,” Stavin said as he looked up into Charvil’s face. “I don’t know enough.”
The pleading in Stavin’s tone was just barely noticeable, but Charvil knew him far better than any of the other Elders. He looked down into Stavin’s face for a moment longer, then turned to face the Council. “He has a point. He’s also going to be out of the valley a lot.”
Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey looked at the other Elders silently for a moment, then bowed his head in resignation. “I place before the Council a proposal to exclude Senior Warmaster Zel’Andral from leadership of the Academy. While his rank is sufficient, he is correct that he lacks the experience to properly teach our young men. And, as Warmaster Kel’Horval has pointed out, Prince Stavin is going to be out of the valley for much of the summer. Is there any opposition?” When no one spoke, he continued. “Very well, Prince Stavin. Warmaster Kel’Horval will retain control of the Academy.”
Stavin breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Thank you. Now I can get back to the Archive.”
“We cannot allow that either, Prince Stavin,” Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey said as he shook his head.
/> “But I wanted to be the Master Scribe. It’s all I’ve spent the last eight years dreaming of,” Stavin whispered as he stared at the Chief Elder in stunned disbelief.
Master Scribe Kel’Zorgan was also in the room, and he shook his head slowly as he stepped forward. “While it is appropriate for a prince to be a scholar, it is not appropriate for one to be a scribe. You, Prince Stavin, are going to have more important uses for your time.”
“Then what am I to do with myself?” Stavin asked in a soft, pleading tone as he faced his Craft Master, and a feeling of devastation swept through him.
“That,” Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey said as he looked at the rest of the Elders, “is going to take some discussion. Something appropriate must be found. We would also like you and your family to move into the royal suite. That places you in the most protected position in Kavinston.”
“You want me to give up my house, too?” Stavin asked in a stunned whisper.
*
“You want me to give up my house?” Sharindis screamed at her father when he and Stavin went to tell her what the Elders Council had decided. “Daddy, no! No! You know how much it means to me to have my own home! You know!” Tears were streaming down her face as she stared at the shadow of her father. “You know.”
Charvil sat beside her on the love seat and put an arm around her shoulders, and sighed as he shook his head slowly. “I know, baby girl, I know. But you are a princess of Evandia now. While the annexation of the rest of Farindia hasn’t been decided, Kel’Kavin is now Evandian territory. It’s not appropriate for you to live in a little house on the edge of town. The royal suite is yours by right.”
Sharindis looked around, unable to see her house, but loving it nonetheless. True, it was a small house, but it held the library Stavin had built her, and was the home she never thought she’d have. “This is my house, Daddy. My home. This is where I want to live.”
Stavin sat in a chair facing his wife and her father, and leaned forward as he spoke. “I did my best, Shari, but the Elders are being stubborn.” He looked at his father-in-law, but Stavin’s expression held no trace of apology. “They want us to move into the suite. They wanted to make me Warmaster of the Academy as well, but we talked them out of that.” Stavin sat back and covered his head with both hands. He shook his head as he said, “I’m not telling her,” when Charvil looked across at him, as if prompting him to continue.
“Not telling me what?” Sharindis asked in a dangerous tone.
Charvil took a deep breath and said, “You can’t work in the Archive anymore, Shari. It’s not appropriate.”
“What!?” Sharindis screamed at the top of her voice. Her scream woke Karlin in the next room, and he added his protest to hers. Stavin went and gathered up his son before Sallin could, then returned to the library.
Charvil shook his head, but continued over the ringing in his ears. “It is not appropriate for a princess to be working as a scribe in the Archive. The Council has already approved Jessaka and Marral as Arlen’s new apprentices.”
There were tears running down Sharindis’ face now. “You’re taking it all away from me?” she asked in a heart-broken tone that almost made her father cry. It was the same tone she’d used when she found out that she’d never see clearly again. “Aren’t I allowed to have even one of my dreams?”
Charvil sighed. He’d tried to convince the others that Shari should be left where she was, but the other four elders had closed ranks against him. She was a princess, and must be treated like one. End of discussion.
“We have to, baby girl. We don’t want to, but you’re a princess and Stavin is a prince. We can’t let you be scribes anymore.”
“You let Marina teach,” Sharindis pointed out in a sulky-little-girl’s voice.
Her father sighed. He knew that tone all too well. “As a guest, yes, we did.”
“Then why can’t I?” she demanded.
Charvil took a deep breath as he tried to figure out an argument that would satisfy her. He finally gave up and just said, “Because you’re not a guest, Shari.”
“Charvil,” Stavin said as he leaned forward once again, rocking Karlin to calm him down, “we have to have something to do through the winter. There has to be something to keep us busy.”
Charvil took a deep breath and looked around the room. Stavin and Shari had more books than the rest of Kavinston combined, and one book in particular caught his attention.
“How much of the Book of Inatat have you completed?” he asked as his head tilted to the side.
Stavin followed his gaze. “A bit more than half. We need something other than that, sir.” Stavin turned back to face Charvil and shrugged one shoulder. “Translating it and rewriting it in Common Script gets tedious.”
“Well, there’ll still be the final year group to work with. That would be appropriate for you. You are still the best we’ve ever had with a Dragon’s Tongue, and you are a Warmaster. It’s your duty to pass on as much of your skill as you can to the next generation. As for Shari,” he looked down at her and sighed. “I’ll speak to Arlen about letting you continue teaching once the twins are born.” When she gave him a questioning look, he continued. “And continue to work on the scrolls.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Sharindis said as she relaxed against him.
*
The arguments were long, loud, and sometimes profane—but in the end, Stavin and Shari were moved, along with their books and personal belongings, up to the Royal Suite of the fortress. The Elders countered every argument against the move that Stavin could come up with.
Stavin immediately placed a table under the only southern-facing window for Shari to use. He arranged their books on the library shelves himself, and was surprised when they all fit. He kept his roller top desk, but the rest of the furnishings in their little house were given to his big brother Bahrandik and his family, along with their new crockery. The kitchen in the royal suite was already well appointed.
Sallin remained their only servant, though several other young women tried to worm their way into Shari’s service. Shari, however, was having none of it, and sent them on their way. They had been her students long enough for her to know she didn’t want any of them in her household.
“This suite is bigger than mom and dad’s house,” Shari complained as she and Stavin sat down to eat the first night they were there.
“Yeah,” Stavin agreed in a sour tone. They were sitting at the dining room table, though they chose to sit side-by-side rather than at the head and foot. The table was meant to seat twenty. Karlin was in a high-chair between them.
Sallin brought out their meals, and Stavin was surprised by how much was on the plates. “Why so much, Salli?”
Sallin bowed before she answered. “Prince Stavin, when you were visiting Princess Marina, this is what her maids said was appropriate.”
Stavin shook his head. “For Marina, yes. But for us, I’d prefer to retain our traditions and eat like everyone else.”
“I’m sorry, Prince Stavin,” Sallin replied, bowing her head and clasping her hands in front of her.
“It’s all right, Salli,” he said as he patted her hand. “Shari needs more because of the twins, but if I eat like Marina and her guards did last year I won’t be able to get my armor on.” He grinned and chuckled as he shook his head. “Dahvin got a touch pudgy while they were here.”
There was something odd about Sallin’s tone when she said, “Yes, Prince Stavin. I noticed that as well. I’ll go back to preparing meals like I used to.” She bowed, then retreated to the sideboard.
Stavin and Shari ate quickly, then went to the sitting room while Sallin cleaned up. “Stavi,” Shari said softly as she touched his arm, “did you notice something strange about the way Salli reacted to talking about Dahvin?”
“You caught that too.” Stavin chuckled and answered just as softly. “I think our dear Salli is a little smitten by our good friend Lord Dahvin. Too bad he’s already married to Lady Glora now.�
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“Too bad she’s a servant,” Shari said as her head tilted to the side. She could hear Sallin in the kitchen. “Though she is being courted, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” Stavin replied. “By who?”
“Karvil Kel’Dessar.”
“I can’t place him.” Stavin’s eyebrows drew together, then he shook his head.
Shari smiled. “He hasn’t been in your classes yet. He will be this winter. He and Varik are friends, and he’s been over to visit a few times. Var says he’s already sick of hearing about how beautiful Salli is.” She turned so she was facing Stavin squarely, but was still whispering. “You told me she wasn’t pretty.”
Stavin paused and considered his words carefully. Leaning forward, he spoke softly to ensure Sallin wouldn’t hear him and said, “She’s not. Oh, she’s not ugly, but she’s not pretty. I’ll admit that she seems to be getting better looking, but I think that’s as much familiarity as anything else.” He shook his head and sat back while Karlin played with his hair. “They say there’s someone for everyone.”
Shari hummed and nodded. “Indeed.” She took a deep breath and sighed, then spoke in a normal voice. “What are we going to do, Stavi? I’ve spent the last nine years in the Archive. It’s all I know how to do.” She sighed again and continued in a bitter tone. “It’s about all I can do.”