The Mantle of Darkness: Whill of Agora Book 7: Legends of Agora

by Ploof,Michael James

  Whill slid the ring on Avriel’s finger and smiled upon her through teary eyes.

  She removed her vale and looked to him with love in her shimmering eyes.

  “Whillhelm Warcrown,” she said, taking his hand. “Whill, I knew of you before you were born. As a young child I would listen for hours to anyone who had the patience to tell me of the prophecy of Whill of Agora. I wanted nothing more than to grow into a strong warrior, one who could help the promised one defeat Eadon. When I first came to you, I was in love with the idea of you, but soon I came to love the man more than the legend. My brother warned me of the consequences of such a love, one that has never been known in our societies, and one that would surely be shunned. But I cared not then, and I care not now. For I know what I want, and he stands before me today. Whill, I promise to honor and cherish you always and forever. To be a loving mother to your children, and to ever make your house a home. I promise to put us first above all things, and to forever remain at your side. No force on earth or of the heavens will tear us apart. This I promise you.”

  Avriel’s eyes were shimmering, and Whill knew of what she spoke.

  She slowly slipped the ring on his finger, and Gretzen raised her arms to the heavens. “Now, before the gods and spirits of your ancestors, you may seal your promise with a kiss.”

  Whill pulled her close, and they shared a long, loving kiss.

  When they finally parted, Roakore gave a gravelly “Hoo, rah!” and slammed his fist to his chest. Those gathered rose to their feet to cheer the new couple.

  Thunder rolled in the distance, and Whill new that it was Kellallea, cheering them as well. But it was also a reminder.

  Chapter 20

  Avriel’s Announcement

  That night, the people of Del’Oradon dined with their king for the last time. Whill had ordered that everyone in the city was to sit down for dinner at exactly seven o’clock, whether they could find a place in the square or not. Food for the feast had been distributed to each and every home, inn, shelter, and barracks. Many of the people took their tables out to the streets, connecting to the city square, where three hundred tables had been set. Whill sat at the head of the longest table, where the wedding guests held their drinks to the clear night sky.

  “To my wife and the queen of Elladrindellia, Avriel!” said Whill in a voice enhanced by Orna Catorna.

  The crowd cheered, and Avriel rose as well, kissing her husband and taking his hands. Her voice too was enhanced for all to hear. “Whill, I made you wait long enough. Now I will tell you the sex of our child.”

  The crowd cheered, and Whill’s heart leapt.

  Avriel waited, letting the tension mount. Then, when she knew that Whill could no longer bear it, she declared, “Soon I will give birth to your son!”

  “A boy!” Whill cried. He took her up in a hug, and the crowd cheered and clanged mugs.

  Avriel laughed and stayed his kiss. “And…” she said, causing the city to fall deathly quiet. “And, I will give birth to your daughter as well.”

  Whill was speechless. He looked to Avriel’s stomach with mind sight, something that he had refused to let himself do up until now, else spoil the surprise. There within her womb he saw the twins.

  “I’m to be a father twice over!” he yelled to the crowd.

  Cheers echoed throughout the city, and Whill kissed a beaming Avriel. “Thank you,” he said for only her ears. “Twice over, thank you.”

  “I have named the girl Arra, after my mother Araveal,” said Avriel, quieting the crowd. She looked to Whill. “What shall be the name of our son?”

  Whill didn’t have to think long on the question. “Abe,” he said proudly. “After my greatest friend and mentor, Abram!”

  “Hear, hear!” said Roakore, and together with his son guzzled down a beer.

  “Let it be known by all!” said Whill in a voice that filled the city. “Our children shall be named Abe and Arra Warcrown!”

  Whill and Avriel left the celebration well after midnight and retired to Whill’s chambers. They consummated their marriage twice over on the balcony, beneath the moon, where furs and pillows speckled with rose petals had been prepared for them at his request.

  Afterward, they lay in the glow of their lovemaking, staring up at the passing clouds in silence. They held each other, enjoying the warmth of their bodies, and Whill was reminded of what he was about to give up for the good of the people. He did not bother to ask the gods, “Why me?” He had asked that question enough times in the past, and never had he gotten an answer from anyone but Kellallea.

  Whill lay there, wondering if he would have the courage to take up the dark mantle. He shivered to think of what it meant to be the Lord of Darkness and Death. Was it possible to attain such a position without being tainted by its power? Would he become that which he had spent his adult life fighting? And why, he wondered, did such a power need to be contained? Surely it had once been free, just another force of the gods holding the balance. And then there was the scariest question of all. Once he attained the mantle, would he break free and wreak devastation across the world?

  “You’re thinking of Eldarian, aren’t you?” said Avriel, and Whill realized that she had been watching him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It is a great burden that you carry,” said Avriel before adding telepathically, We will find a way to thwart Kellallea’s plans.

  Will we? I have thought on it for many days and nights, and have yet to think of anything.

  I have faith in you, Whill.

  We will need more than faith. Avriel, you must consider the possibility that this is my fate.

  Avriel looked to him, shocked. Then you have given up?

  Of course not, but…I am the first human in thousands of years to be gifted with the powers of old. I am the only one who can defeat Eldarian. If I do not take upon myself the power of the mantle, who will?

  Kellallea, said Avriel.

  Whill shook his head. No, she still has power over you. You know what will happen if I move against her. I cannot risk you and the children, and I cannot risk the power of the dark mantle falling into the wrong hands.

  But you will spend an eternity in darkness.

  And the world will know peace. Let’s not spend what time we have worrying over the future. I want to be here, now.

  Avriel gave a sigh and nestled closer to him. Whill held her close, trying to savor the feeling of her warm skin. For if he was going to spend eternity in darkness, it would be these memories that provided him with light.

  Chapter 21

  United We Stand

  “I ain’t goin’ to no meetin’ with a dragon!” said Arrianna.

  “Then stay behind,” said Roakore. “But I for one be goin’, and so too be Helzendar.”

  “This be blasphemous!”

  Roakore squared on his wife. “Some say it was blasphemous for me to be givin’ females the rights o’ males. This be a new age, Arri.”

  “A dragon be a dragon,” she said and spit on the floor.

  Roakore sighed and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Whill be tryin’ to get the dragons to go away once and for all. And this be the way to be doin’ it.”

  “I still ain’t likin’ it. A dragon be a dragon, and they ain’t to be bartered with. Why get them to leave when our sons can gain a seat at the table o’ the gods by killin’ the beasts?”

  “Ye don’t know what ye be sayin’. Ye ain’t never seen battle. Ye ain’t never seen a friend, brother, son, or father die in yer arms. There be more to life than war and glory.”

  “Ye’ve lost yer head!” she said, shocked. “These be the words o’ a dwarf king?”

  “There be peace to be had, Arrianna. Peace! Somethin’ that we ain’t known in hundreds o’ years. There be other ways to attain a seat at the table o’ the gods. Would ye rather sing the glory o’ Helzendar, who died young fightin’ a dragon, or would ye rather bounce yer grandchildren on yer knee, and see Helzendar liv
e to a ripe old age? I’ve buried too many o’ me sons already. If there be a chance to be rid o’ the devils and have peace, then I be takin’ it.”

  He turned from her and went about putting on his notched, scorched, and dented armor. She remained silent for a time, watching him, but then placed a hand on his shoulder and helped him strap on the plate-mail. “I be sorry, me king. I shouldn’t argue with yer wisdom. Ye be right. If there be peace to be had, we should try. Even if it means workin’ with the devils.”

  “Aye. Ye be comin’ then?”

  “I be,” she said with a grin.

  Whill and Avriel greeted Zalenlia as she landed in the garden at the center of the castle proper. Her golds circled above the city like birds of prey.

  He had called a meeting in the garden, and had invited Roakore, Gretzen, Azzeal, and the newly appointed knight Ragnar. Roakore arrived first with Arrianna and Helzendar. They gave the golden dragon a wide berth as the dwarf king glanced nervously at his wife, who stared with hate-filled eyes at the gold.

  “Good morning,” said Whill, addressing them all.

  “Aye, let’s be gettin’ this over with,” said Roakore.

  Gretzen and Azzeal arrived next, followed by Ragnar. Zorriaz the White landed behind Whill and Avriel, and the dwarves shifted so that they could watch both dragons at once.

  “Thank you all for coming. I have invited you all here today, human, elf, barbarian, dwarf, and dragon, because together we have achieved so much. We have defeated Eadon, and we have eradicated Zander and the undead armies. But another threat is brewing to the west, one that I do not intend to ignore. Zalenlia the gold restored me to health during the war for the north, and now she has asked for my help in return. After the fall of Reshikk, a silver dragon named Longclaw, blessed with the ancient power to breathe lightning, rose to power and took control of Drakkar Island. He has an army of hundreds, and possession of thousands of unborn eggs, many of which are the spawn of Reshikk himself.”

  Roakore pointed at Zalenlia. “So you be wantin’ us to help ye eradicate yer own kin?”

  His wife spit on the ground.

  “I do not wish for any of my kin to die, that is why I left Drakkar. But I will not see them led by one such as Longclaw.”

  “Then what be the plan?” Roakore asked. “We gonna ask ‘em, nice-like?”

  “Reshikk began a great migration,” said Whill. “One that is not over. Zalenlia intends to lead them to their own land, a place where they can live in peace, and in turn, so shall we.”

  “I intend to lead my kin to Drindellia, the homeland,” said Zalenlia.

  The group shared glances.

  “So we be lettin’ ‘em go to Drindellia to gain their strength and increase in numbers?” said Arrianna. “Who’s to say that they won’t be back a hun’red years from now, wantin’ to conquer us all?”

  “We are not all warring creatures, good dwarf,” said Zalenlia.

  “Do not address me, dragon!”

  “Please,” said Whill, raising his hands. “I have invited you all here in good faith. We all want the same thing.”

  “Do we?” Arrianna asked.

  “What she be meanin’ to say be—” Roakore began.

  “Don’t ye be speakin’ for me! I got me own thoughts and me own mouth. Me opinion sure to be that o’ many others.”

  Roakore opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, and finally sat back with a deep sigh.

  “We have all had enough of war,” said Whill. “If it can be avoided, then it shall be. If left to his devices, Longclaw will surely move against us. But Zalenlia has offered an alternative, one that will benefit us all.”

  “Dragons be the natural enemy o’ dwarves,” said Arrianna. “It be our duty to drive them from the mountains and—”

  “You have driven us from the mountains. You have won. Let us leave peacefully, and I swear that we will never return.”

  Arrianna seemed to be getting over the shock of being addressed once again by the devil dragon, and Whill watched pensively. But the dwarf visibly calmed.

  “Ye admit defeat then,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let it be known.”

  Zalenlia conceded with a steady nod.

  “Does anyone else have issues with this proposal?” Whill asked, glancing at everyone in the group. They all shook their heads, even Roakore.

  “Good,” said Whill. “Then let us prepare.”

  Chapter 22

  All Whispers Ride Upon the Wind

  Dirk watched from the high tower as the silver hawks and dragons ferried Whill and the others out of the city to the fanfare of the gathered people. A part of him wished that he was heading out with them to fight the dragons of Drakkar, but another part, the more practical side of him, was glad to see the king leave. His absence would give Dirk the time he needed to sway the rest of the council to his side.

  Someone entered through the tower door behind him, and Dirk smelled the air. On it rode the faint but distinct scent of Frangipani, a favorite of the Magister of Secrets, who was known for his fondness for growing the exotic flowers.

  “Larson Donarron, what whispers ride upon the wind?” said Dirk, still watching the departing heroes through the window.

  “All whispers ride upon the wind, my lord.”

  “Indeed,” said Dirk, turning to regard the man. “What do they say of the upcoming election?”

  The Magister of Secrets strode to the window and glanced out at the city below, reveling as he always did in his knowledge, and savoring the moments before disclosure.

  “My little sparrows tell me that you are behind.”

  “Behind? How can that be? I have the favor of the common people.”

  “Indeed, but the common people still do not have the voice of the lords. The great houses are behind Gelding, for he has promised in secret to restore their titles and lands.”

  “Whill was a fool to make such a change so swiftly.”

  “Many others agree with you.”

  Dirk considered the new information, following it to its inevitable conclusion. “The lords are pressuring their old vassals,” he said to himself as much as Donarron. “The peasants have never known true freedom, and now that they have it, they don’t know what to do with it. When it comes time to vote, the vassals will vote for Gelding, for fear of the repercussion of their lords.”

  “It is true. They know nothing of freedom, but they know fear. They will fall in line as they always have.”

  “Then we must give the lords something to fear as well,” said Dirk, turning on his heal and heading toward the door.

  “The lords will not be easily intimidated,” said Donarron.

  Dirk stopped at the door and glanced back, offering the man a smirk. “You let me worry about that. Put the word out about Gelding. I want every tavern patron speaking about it by midnight. Tell them about his allegiance to the lords. Tell them of his plans to undo King Whillhelm’s good work.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Dirk left the man and took the winding staircase to the base of the tower, where Krentz was waiting with hood drawn. He offered her a nod and drew his own hood. Together they began to stride leisurely through the city streets. Dirk filled her in on what the magister had told him, and a grim look crossed her face as she glanced at him.

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “What would you suggest,” he asked.

  “There is no time to sway the tide with rumor and song. We must be swift to action. It might be true that Whill acted hastily against the lords, but it was the right thing to do. Gelding cannot be allowed to win. If it is true that Whill shall never return from Drindellia, his new government will crumble under Gelding’s rule.”

  “I understand this. I do not know why Whill does not.”

  “He is young,” said Krentz, quieting as they walked past a group of people.

  When they were again alone in the street, Dirk regarded Krentz thoughtfully. “Perhaps he believes that the elves will hel
p to keep order.”

  “I doubt it; he knows that the humans would never stand for it. But it is no matter. Gelding will not win the governorship.”

  “No, he will not,” said Dirk. “Once the sun is down, we will take Fyrfrost out of the city. Until then, let us learn the locations of the largest houses. We will pay them a visit.”

  Krentz offered him a sly grin and stopped, regarding him.

  “What is it?” he asked, thinking that she had another idea.

  “You are the sexiest man I have ever met,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

  Dirk couldn’t help a smile. “I know,” he said, grabbing her hips and giving a squeeze.

  She kissed him long and slow before glancing at the door to their quarters. “Come on, we’ve a few hours until nightfall.”

  “Hours?” he said with a laugh and slapped her backside as she danced away from him toward the door. “You are in a mood!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, stopping at the door and peeking from behind the threshold. “I should have said minutes.”

  “Oh, hoho,” Dirk laughed. “Challenge accepted!”

  Chapter 23

  The Queen of Dragons

  As the sun set on the world, Drakkar Island came into view. Memories of the race to the portal flashed through Whill’s mind. The last time he had been there, he had angered the dragons greatly.

  He rode upon the back of Zorriaz and glanced to the left at Roakore, who looked grim as he stared at the island of dragons. His wife rode behind him, holding him by the waist and grinning from ear to ear. She seemed an eager dwarf indeed. Helzendar rode to the left of his father. To Whill’s right, Azzeal and Gretzen rode upon Zalenlia’s golds.