The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3)

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The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 21

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “We thought so,” the lieutenant chuckled.

  Minutes later, the party was again united and making their way toward Lord Merclan's stronghold. Between Ian and Kilren, they were able to select the most obscure and least traveled roads that would lead them to their destination. As the sun set, the decision was made to continue traveling in the hopes of joining the siege early the following afternoon.

  Although, for his part, Kilren had had more than enough of riding endlessly through the night time and time again, he had to admit that, under the circumstances, reducing the risk of being spotted would likely be worth the effort of pressing forward for a few hours after dark. If they were seen traveling through the Mikralian countryside with wagons loaded with weapons and armor, questions would be asked. Those were questions he would rather not have to answer.

  Chapter 12: Surrender

  At least it seemed as if they were no longer actively trying to get the girl killed. Leaving her behind as they went on their last fool errand had kept her safe, even if it had merely been an afterthought, rather than part of their original plan. Obviously, they had no idea how valuable, how powerful, she was. One would still expect, however, that a Telian Knight would show a little more concern for the safety of a lady, just on principle.

  On the other hand, she was hardly your average young woman. That elf they traveled with also had remarkable skills for someone of her relative youth. Both of them had proved extremely useful to the knight and his companions. Galrin had to admit that, looking at it objectively, if he didn't know how remarkable Gwendolyn was, he would have thought nothing of risking her life in order to bring that kind of power to the battlefield.

  A smile spread across the old man's face as he pictured the broken bodies of his own men laying scattered across the field. She had slaughtered so many just days before. Her own powers were nothing compared to his own, of course, but she was still a child. In time, what might she be taught to do?

  This thought caused the ancient wizard to sigh. Why hadn't he found her sooner? Why couldn't he have raised her himself as he had Valrak? She had been there, right under his nose, for fourteen years. He had searched the stars for decades only to discover that she had been born mere miles from his own fortress home. It was obvious the Eilian had a sense of humor. She had been so close, and yet ignorance had kept her completely beyond his reach.

  If only he'd have been able to show her the freedom of limitless ambition, the tranquility of absolute dominance, and the joy of unlimited power. Had he reared her, it was also likely she would have become Valrak's consort. His foster son was everything a worthy woman could want; strong, determined, cunning, valorous, and ruthless. In time, he could set Areon itself at her feet. Gwendolyn was a young woman who could help him take it.

  Still, it did no good to dwell on what might have been. She had been ill-raised and ill-educated, but there are motivations beyond lust for power. Love is perhaps the greatest of all. What might a young woman not do for love? That was certainly a weapon they could use against her. They only needed to bring it to bear. The next time he spoke to his son, he would mention it. Obviously, it would take time. Affairs of the heart are something that can't be rushed. It would be well worth the effort in the end, however. The best way to persuade her to open the gates would be to ensure that she truly had a desire to do so. What could a girl like Gwendolyn find more motivating than love itself?

  “So, Ian,” Kilren said, turning to the dwarf, “I've been meaning to ask you about something for a while now.”

  “Ask away, lad,” the bard replied. “We've got hours of empty evening to fill before we stop for the night.”

  “Which is one of the things that brought the subject to mind,” the lieutenant pointed out. “I want to know more about that elvish princess that married a human.”

  “We want to know more,” Erana corrected.

  “Yes, we do,” Kilren replied, smiling at his love in the moonlight. “We figure it might come in handy when we're trying to convince her father to give us his permission.”

  “And his blessing,” the elvish maiden added.

  “It might at that,” Ian replied with a nod, drawing his pipe from his pocket. “Depending on which you choose to mention to him.”

  “Which?” Kilren repeated. “How many elvish princesses have married human men?”

  “More than a few,” the bard replied, as he sat filling his pipe. “Although, some of their histories certainly wouldn't have the effect you're hoping for.”

  “Obviously, we don't want one of those,” the lieutenant replied.

  “Obviously not,” Ian nodded. “In your case, I think the best story to share with him, or remind him of, as he may well have heard it before, is the tale of Princess Selina Flass and Viclan Waar.”

  “Whichever you think is best,” Erana nodded.

  “Well,” the dwarf replied before pausing to light his pipe, “it's certainly one of the happiest and, as they were very much in love, I feel it relates to your situation.

  “Selina was the eldest daughter of King Byral who ruled the Kingdom of Afflin nearly eight hundred years ago. Although Afflin was completely ruled by elvish nobility, the kingdom had a relatively large population of human subjects. One of these was a woodcutter named Kalkast Waar. He built his cottage within miles of one of the royal hunting lodges, having gotten permission to do so from the local lord. This was how he and his wife, Doris, came to meet Selina.

  “She was an extremely adventurous child who took up wandering through the woods at the tender age of eighteen. Which, of course, would be the equivalent of nine years old for a human. Her father and brothers had come to the lodge to enjoy a month of hunting. While they spent their days in that pursuit, she spent hers exploring the surrounding woodlands. She stumbled upon the woodcutter's cottage and was overcome with curiosity.

  “Although she had heard a great deal about humans, she had never seen one before. Having watched Doris for several minutes, who was working in the couple's little garden at the time, Selina decided to emerge from the underbrush, where she had been hiding and speak to the woman. The woodcutter's wife was extremely friendly to the child and showed her the garden and led her through the cottage. The next day, Selina decided to visit again, and was introduced to Kalkast. After that, she became a regular visitor whenever her father was at the lodge.

  “Two years later, while the king and his sons were hunting once again, Doris gave birth to Viclan. Selina asked for permission to stay with the Waars for the remainder of the month, in order to be of what help she could, which her father permitted her to do. From that time on, she stayed with the woodcutter and his family during the month her father and brothers were at the lodge. She would even visit them occasionally throughout the rest of the year.

  “The princess was fascinated by the child and spent most of her time at the cottage with him, playing with him, teaching him elvish words, and carrying him through the woods to show him the beautiful scenes she'd discovered on her adventures. Viclan, of course, was aging at twice the rate of Selina. The older he got, the closer their friendship became. Although she didn't realize it, she was slowly falling in love with him. Viclan was much more aware of his feelings, however. On his twentieth birthday, while they were visiting one of their favorite spots, he kissed her.

  “He and Selina had never spoken about that aspect of elvish culture, so he had no idea that he had just asked her to marry him.”

  “I know how that is,” Kilren chuckled.

  “What?!” Erana snapped.

  “I mean,” the lieutenant lied, “I know what it's like not to know something about elvish culture. I had no idea when I asked you to marry me that I'd end up wearing a crown of flowers every year.”

  “I thought you liked it.”

  “I do,” he replied, “but my point is that I didn't know. Elves have a lot of culture, you know?”

  “I guess you're right, actually,” she smiled.

  “Please continue, Ia
n,” Kilren said, turning once again to the dwarf.

  “Yes, of course,” the bard replied, before clearing his throat. “Selina was shocked by what Viclan had done and immediately left him, making her way directly to her father's lodge. The young man was surprised by this reaction, but he was both remarkably self-confident and extremely resolute. He was also convinced that she loved him, whether she knew it or not. The next morning, he showed up at the lodge asking to see her. Selina sent word for him to meet her in the gardens, which he did. She informed the young man that, having had a sleepless night to consider it, she decided that she truly did love him and had decided to accept his offer of marriage. Although years after they had been married, he admitted that he was somewhat stunned by this statement, he didn't allow her to get that impression at the moment.

  “The couple requested an audience with her father, which was immediately granted. Viclan boldly asked the king for permission to marry his daughter. Hardly surprisingly, this request was denied.”

  “This story is a lot like ours,” Erana pointed out.

  “Which is one of the reasons I chose it,” Ian replied. “King Byral was kind, but pointed out that their marriage was quite impossible. Viclan, although an excellent young man in many ways, was not a noble...”

  “What difference did that make?” Kilren interrupted. “Elvish nobles can marry commoners.”

  “The nobles of Innalas can marry commoners, such was not the case in Afflin,” Ian corrected before continuing. “The king also pointed out that Viclan had no fortune, and was aging at twice the rate of his daughter. He asked the young man if he would want Selina to marry beneath her and have the choice of living as a woodcutter's wife or supporting her husband with her own fortune. The maiden insisted that she would be willing to do either, but Viclan agreed with her father. He bowed to the king and each of her brothers in turn, took her by the hands, asked her to wait for him, and turned to make his way quickly from the hall.

  “Wait for him, she did. Over the next decade, her father attempted to persuade her to marry several different noble suitors, all of whom she rejected.”

  “I thought elvish daughters didn't disobey their fathers,” Kilren observed.

  “As a general rule, they don't,” Erana agreed. “But, we have the right to refuse to marry. We won't wed against our family's wishes, but they would never attempt to force us to marry a man we didn't love.”

  “Just so,” Ian replied. “Selina assured her father that if she weren't allowed to wed Viclan, she would never marry. He refused to accept this, however, and spent the next ten years trying to persuade her to change her mind. During that time, the young man joined the army of Afflin and worked his way up the ranks. The Eilian blessed him and, during his seventh year of service, he actually managed to save the life of the king's own cousin, Talfen Daelor – or Duke Daelor as you would say in Solarin – from a rabid bear. For this, he was made a Kaelfen which, as you know, is a Knight, of Afflin.

  “Viclan was also extremely skilled, and fortunate in business. He saved every tennari and, before he was twenty-one, he and his father bought a small farm which his parents managed. Over the next nine years, he expanded this farm, bought several others, purchased a silver mine, and hired a small fleet of ships that traded in fruits, furs, cloth, wood, gold, and gems. By the time he was thirty, he had more wealth than Selina's dowry and had been made an elvish noble.

  “He returned to the hunting lodge ten years later to the day, Selina at his side, and once again asked the king for his daughter's hand. This time, he not only gave them his permission, he asked them to forgive him for delaying their union for so long. They were married just two weeks later...”

  “Two weeks!” Kilren interrupted, snapping his fingers. “So, they didn't have to wait the standard engagement period?”

  “They didn't,” Ian replied.

  “This is a great story,” the lieutenant said with a smile. “By the way, how long is the standard engagement period?”

  “It varies,” Ian said. “In most cases, it's a year or two.”

  “Which would be like six-months to a year for humans,” Kilren observed.

  “Just so,” the bard nodded. “King Byral said that ten years was more than long enough for his daughter to come to a final decision. The only reason he made them wait the two weeks was to give them time to prepare for the wedding.”

  “How did they get around the aging thing?” Erana asked.

  “They didn't,” Ian said, shaking his head. “Viclan was a blessed man, however. He was hale and hardy well into old age. He died a few days after his eightieth birthday, however. He and Selina's children were half-elves, aging at a rate halfway between human and elves. As a result, Viclan was able to see several of his grandchildren before he passed away. In spite of the fact that she was still relatively young, Selina never remarried.

  “Some people believe she lost her mind after he died. She would wander alone through the woodlands where they had grown up together, talking to him about their future together. Selina, however, claimed that Viclan had refused to leave her and that his soul was waiting for hers; refusing to go to Kaldor until she could join him. Some of her grandchildren even claimed to have seen and spoken with his spirit when they were young.”

  “What do you think?” Kilren asked.

  “That, whatever the truth was, she was happy,” the dwarf replied. “Whether or not he was actually able to wait for her, she believed that he had. Whatever the case was then, I'm sure they're happily together in the halls of Kaldor now.”

  “Well, if I can,” the lieutenant said, his eyes on his love, “I'll certainly wait for Erana.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt,” the bard replied with a nod.

  “I'll never marry anyone but Kilren,” the elvish maiden replied. “I'd made up my mind about that long ago. I just wish I'd have thought to tell my father that in the first place.”

  “Don't let that trouble you, my dear,” Ian chuckled. “Even if you had, he wouldn't have believed you. And, I'm sure you'll have the chance to tell him before too long.”

  “I hope you're right,” Kilren replied.

  Shortly after midnight, Ian called the band to a halt. They had traveled far enough to reach the fortress of Lord Merclan by the following afternoon. Under the circumstances, that was far enough. If they did happen to encounter the enemy, they certainly wouldn't want it to be after having traveled all night without rest.

  The group quickly started a small fire in the center of the wooded glade where they had stopped, before spreading themselves on the ground around it. As weary as they were, something was playing on Gregor's mind.

  “Sir Darian,” he said, gazing at the blazing branches before him, “what was it you called Valrak before?”

  “A Kalathian,” the knight replied.

  “You called him something else, as well,” the young lord asserted.

  “A Disciple of Kalath.”

  “Who was Kalath?”

  “A Telian who lived thousands of years ago,” Darian explained. “I don't know much about him, though. Andor only told me that I would have to be very careful if I ever encountered one of his followers.”

  “How would you know if you had?” Kilren asked.

  “When I ask the Eilian to open my eyes, they show me the true nature of a person,” the knight asserted.

  “You do that on a regular basis, do you?” the lieutenant chuckled.

  “I do when I meet new people,” Darian nodded. “It's how I knew I could trust you when we first met.”

  “Keep in mind, lad,” Ian said, pulling the pipe from his mouth, “that there are those who can blind the eyes of Telian Knights, even if they can't hide from the Eilian. This is especially true of Kalathians. You have to use your mind – as well as your faith – when you make the decision to trust someone.”

  “I know, Ian, and I've learned to be more cautious since I first met Kilren. Still, I was right about him."

  “Which is
wonderful,” Gregor asserted. “But, is that all you know about Kalath?”

  “I'm afraid so,” Darian replied.

  “Yaellan Kalath, was a faithful and powerful Telian,” Ian said before pausing to take a draw from his pipe. “He, much like our own young knight, traveled with a number of companions, seeking out evil and seeing justice done. His band made powerful allies, and powerful enemies. After countless adventures, a wicked king hired a dragon to hunt them down and destroy them. Although they managed to overcome this foe, Raslin Morrin, a priestess of Theolan, was slain during the battle.

  “Yaellan knelt by her side and begged the Eilian to fill him with the power to raise her from the dead. They refused.”

  “What?!” Kilren interjected. “Why?”

  “No one knows for certain,” Ian replied, turning his eyes to the young man. “Some believe it was because the gods feared that making the attempt would have killed Yaellan. Others feel that it was simply a matter of her time having come. After all, everyone dies eventually. Still others believe that her soul had no desire to leave the halls of Kaldor and return to Areon.

  “Whatever the case, Yaellan was distraught. He bowed his head, pleading with them to give him the power to save her. As he raised his eyes, he saw a vision of Winrall standing at her side. The eldest of the Eilian assured the knight that he would help him if that were truly his desire. Winrall warned him, however, that the gods had decided to let her die; but assured him that he would intervene, if that was Yaellan's choice. The Telian immediately begged Winrall to give him the power he needed.

  “His request was granted and, moments later, Raslin was once again among the living. Yaellan nearly died. The divine power he channeled almost consumed him. It didn't, however. Raslin had no idea what had happened to her, but she was very pleased to be alive. Within days, the entire party had recovered; none of them any the worse for wear.

  “After reflecting on what he had done, Yaellan repented...”

  “Repented for what?” Gregor asked.

 

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