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 29

by Aaron J. Ethridge

“Like my uncle,” the maiden nodded vigorously.

  “What difference does that make?” he asked with a shrug.

  “Look, Sir Darian!” she snapped. “If you don't care about the customs of Solarin...”

  “Of course I do!” he instantly assured her.

  “Then, would you please just let me get on with it?!”

  “Go ahead,” he smiled.

  “Alright, I will!” she replied before grabbing him by the edges of his breastplate and pulling his mouth down to hers.

  For almost a second, it seemed as if the young knight's body was made out of stone. Complete and total shock had frozen every muscle in his frame and, except for the warmth of his lips, the maiden might well have believed she was kissing a statue. This moment passed quickly, however.

  Like a young bird thrown from its nest, Mother Nature had cast Darian, without warning, into the unknown. Like most fledglings, however, the Telian learned to fly before he hit the ground. His lack of experience brought with it a certain lack of skill but, this deficiency was made up for, at least to a certain extent, by his apparent enthusiasm. As this was the first kiss of passion either of them had ever shared with another, it was, in its way, truly magical.

  After several seconds, and Ian loudly clearing his throat, the maiden drew back, causing the knight to stumble; which nearly resulted in his falling into the fire. Instantly, both Kilren and Gregor were on their feet, a wide smile on the face of each. The lieutenant grabbed his friend by the shoulders in order to steady him, while the prince turned his attention to the fair young sorceress.

  “That's Solarin tradition, is it?” he asked, his eyes locked on the maiden.

  “It is,” Ian assured him, her reply having been nothing more than a deep blush.

  “Well then,” the young lord replied, “that being the case, I think I should point out the fact that I'm not a lady, I'm not engaged, and I'm certainly not anything like Gwendolyn's uncle.”

  “No one can argue with you there, lad,” the dwarf laughed.

  “I've also had the honor of saving Lady Gwendolyn's life,” Gregor pointed out.

  “I suppose you have,” the bard nodded.

  “Of course,” the handsome young lord continued, taking a step nearer the maiden, “I'm certain that, according to tradition, the lady can choose to express her thanks in a variety of ways.”

  “She has a number of options that would be considered traditional, yes,” Ian replied.

  “So, if you'd prefer to reserve such a magnificent mark of gratitude exclusively for Sir Darian,” Gregor said, gazing down at Gwendolyn's beautiful face, “I'll do my best to understand. I can't say that I won't be terribly disappointed but, I'll try to be understanding about it.”

  This declaration elicited the knight's glaring gaze. Although, he wasn't sure exactly why that was. After all, tradition was tradition and Prince Gregor had unquestionably saved her life. For a moment, however, Darian found himself wishing that he hadn't. Not that he wished he hadn't saved her life, obviously. It was just that he wished someone else had. Like him, for instance.

  “What?” Gwendolyn asked with a forced laugh. “Of course, not. I mean; it was just for the sake of tradition, after all. We can't really restore Solarin without restoring its customs, can we?”

  “No,” was his simple reply.

  “So,” she continued, her voice shaking slightly. “Ladies of Solarin should act like ladies of Solarin, don't you think?”

  “I do.”

  “Obviously, I owe you a debt I can never fully repay.”

  “I take it then, my lady,” he said, gazing directly into her eyes, “that I may have a kiss?”

  “You... of course, you may. After all, it's tradition.”

  Without another word, the handsome young lord took her in his arms and kissed her. Although the maiden wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about this display of gratitude as she had been the former, she would have been lying to herself had she denied the fact that Prince Gregor seemed to know a good bit more about what he was doing than Sir Darian had. On the other hand, the prince's skill attested to a certain degree of experience that she was glad to know the Telian didn't have. And so, although Gregor's kiss was undoubtedly the more physically pleasurable of the two, she would have much preferred to kiss the young knight a second time, in the hopes of giving him additional experience.

  Ian had given up clearing his throat and actually started coughing loudly before Gregor took the hint and released Gwendolyn from his embrace. Erana stared at the pair, wide eyed and open-mouthed, while neither Kilren nor Jalek could keep themselves from chuckling. Darian was gazing at the young lord, his jaws locked, and his eyebrows drawn so tightly together that it appeared as if he were trying to make them touch.

  “You're glaring,” Kilren whispered to the knight.

  “Am I?” Darian asked, his jaw muscles relaxing to some degree.

  “You are,” the lieutenant assured him.

  “I didn't mean to be,” the knight replied, turning his eyes to his friend. “I was just thinking.”

  In truth, he spent the next few hours thinking. He offered to take first watch, hoping that he would be sleepy again by the time it was over. He wasn't. He continued to be wide-awake, carefully contemplating his own feelings, as he lay on the ground through the second and third watches of the day.

  He couldn't help it. He had tried his best but, it was beyond his control. There was just something about Gregor he simply didn't like. The prince struck him as sneaky somehow. Not that he would betray them or anything like that, of course. Gregor was clearly a man of honor and integrity. However, that didn't mean he could be trusted with just anything. The number one thing he couldn't be trusted with was Gwendolyn.

  But why? What had he done wrong? Those were questions Darian couldn't answer. It wasn't that Gregor had done anything he shouldn't have – or that he’d done anything the Telian wouldn't have done himself. Still, there it was. He couldn't shake it. Whatever he did, he had to make sure that Gregor didn't end up alone with Gwendolyn. Up to this point, he had done a pretty good job of that but, it was a delicate enough situation that he would have continue to show constant vigilance. One thing was certain; he had to keep Gregor from ever saving her life again...

  With bleary eyes and a mild headache, the Telian climbed back in the saddle the following afternoon. As they got further from Mikral City, they would be able to do more and more of their traveling during the day. This also meant that they would do more and more of their sleeping at night; which was something the Telian was genuinely looking forward to.

  As weary as he was, he decided to continue reading as they rode along. He had almost reached the end of the tome and was eager to finish it.

  “That's it,” he said with a satisfied sigh after several hours of travel, closing the volume and slipping it into one of his saddle bags.

  “You've finished it?” Kilren asked.

  “I have,” the knight nodded. “It was actually pretty good. I think I'm a lot better at being gallant than I was before.”

  “I'm sure you are.”

  “It also gave me a lot to think about.”

  “I'm sure it did,” the lieutenant chuckled.

  “For instance, I've been considering what we talked about before.”

  “What was that?”

  “You told me to tell you if I ever came up with a reason for wanting to marry Gwendolyn beyond having children with her.”

  “That's true,” Kilren nodded. “I did.”

  “Well, I have,” the knight replied.

  “What is it?”

  “According to the book,” Darian said, “it's wise to marry a woman who can really help you manage your estates. The more efficiently they're run, the more profitable they'll be. That means you can keep your tenants' rents low and still provide them with everything that's their due. Not to mention, providing enough to take care of your wife and children.”

  “Mmmm, hmmm,” Kilren replied.


  “Since Gwendolyn's father is so skilled in business,” the knight continued, “I think he'll make an excellent father-in-law. Plus, he's been a noble and a peasant, so he can see both sides.”

  “Right... And, that's it? Just kids and a good father-in-law?”

  “Well... no,” Darian admitted. “Just between the two of us, I think I'm really going to enjoy kissing her all through the long winter evenings, as well as looking at her.”

  “I'm glad to hear it,” Kilren laughed.

  “In fact,” the Telian continued, “I wonder if, at some point, I shouldn't remind her that I've actually saved her life more than once.”

  “I certainly would!” the lieutenant assured him.

  Over the following few days, having completed his reading, Darian spent most of his time in Gwendolyn's company, doing his best to be gallant, without allowing himself to forget for a moment that they were currently in the middle of a war. According to the book, his next step should be to talk to her father. That would hardly be practical until after the current conflict had been resolved, however. There was no point in their courting when, at any moment, one or both of them might get themselves killed.

  Still, it was obvious, even to him, that she wanted them to court. What he found even more surprising, however, was that it was equally obvious to him that he wanted the same thing. Looking back at it, he felt certain that he had started falling in love with her the moment they met. It almost made him laugh out loud when he considered the year's worth of hints and encouragements she had offered him, to which he had been – until just days before – completely oblivious.

  He couldn't say exactly why it was, but that kiss had opened his eyes to things he had never been able to see before. Instinctively, he could tell that it had been more than just tradition that had motivated Gwendolyn. She had wanted to kiss him. And, as it turned out, he had really wanted to kiss her for a long time. He just hadn't realized it until after it had actually happened.

  Another observation that sincerely pleased him was the fact that Gwendolyn seemed to be doing her very best to avoid being alone with Gregor. Although the young lord wasn't one to flee the field of battle, even when facing impossible odds, he found himself flanked time and again by the maiden's precaution and the knight's perseverance. In spite of this, however, he showed no signs of a weakening resolve. Still, Darian could accept his many attempts, provided, of course, that they always failed.

  In spite of Darian's almost constant attention, Gwendolyn did find the time to have several private chats with Erana. In hushed conversation, interspersed with quiet giggling, the ladies discussed the knight's rather remarkable transformation and the fact that, at least from time to time, kisses could be as powerful in real life as they were in fairy-tales. Erana was shocked, however, to find that Gwendolyn was considering whether or not she should offer Darian another mark of gratitude, considering the fact that he really had saved her life more than once.

  The elvish maiden explained, in no uncertain terms, that such an act would be completely inappropriate. Not to mention unseemly, if not downright obscene. Gwendolyn had done what the savage customs of her barbaric people required. That was not only understandable, it was even laudable from a certain point of view. To go beyond that, however, was unthinkable. Perhaps, when Sir Darian actually asked her to marry him, one more kiss would be justified, but certainly no more than that. Unless, of course, he saved her life again. In that case, she wouldn't have any choice but to honor tradition. Still, they could hope that wouldn't happen.

  This line of discussion eventually led back to Kilren and Erana. The elvish maiden confessed that, on more than one occasion, when they had been alone, the lieutenant had tried to persuade her to kiss him again. At the time, she had been convinced he was lying about it being a human custom, but now she had no choice but to accept that he had been telling the truth.

  It was a truth that she had to make sure her father didn't find out about until after she and Kilren were engaged. She couldn't imagine what his reaction would be to the idea that engaged human couples would kiss before their marriage. She was positive, however, that he would never agree to her engagement with Kilren if he were aware of the fact.

  “What if he saved your life?” Gwendolyn asked.

  “He has,” Erana pointed out.

  “I know,” the human maiden replied before gently biting her lower lip.

  “Then, what are you asking?”

  “I'm asking if you plan to thank him properly.”

  “Absolutely not!” Erana exclaimed. “How can you even ask me that? You know that, according to elvish tradition...”

  “As Ian pointed out days ago,” Gwendolyn interrupted, “you're planning to marry a human man.”

  “That doesn't change the fact...” Erana began.

  “Do you want to?” the human maiden interrupted again.

  “Do I want to?”

  “Do you want to kiss him again?”

  “I can't believe you just asked...” the elf began before pausing. “Did you hear that?”

  “Don't avoid the question,” Gwendolyn replied with a smile.

  “I'm not,” Erana said softly, before once again pausing. “I heard a horse.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Ian,” the elf cried toward the head of the column as loudly as she dared.

  The dwarf turned to see Erana motioning for him to bring the band to a halt, which he immediately did.

  Just over an hour before, the band had ridden into a wood on the very outskirts of Lord Jannus's lands. More than likely, whatever the elvish ranger had heard was no threat to them. However, they had come too far, too carefully to risk being discovered by their enemies by failing to show the proper precautions.

  The elf and her love slid from their saddles and disappeared into the surrounding woodlands, moving as silently as their remarkable skills allowed them to. Just minutes later, the pair burst from the underbrush panting for breath.

  “It's Lord Jannus,” Kilren said between gasps.

  “He's dying,” Erana added, pointing behind her. “Hurry, Darian!”

  The knight kicked his beast into motion, flying in the direction the ranger had indicated. In no more than half-a-minute, he encountered a sentry who led him quickly to a camp hidden within the shades of the forest. A number of injured men sat around a small fire, their horses tied to the nearby trees. The aged lord himself was lying on a makeshift-bed composed of long grass and moss; a large, blood-covered bandage wrapped around his head.

  The Telian leapt from his horse before kneeling at the side of the injured lord. In silent prayers, he asked the Eilian to fill him with the power to heal the old man's frail frame. Instantly, he was answered and the power of the gods flowed through his body. Lord Jannus opened his eyes with a smile and spoke.

  “Thank you, Telian,” the old man said. “I'm fairly certain you just saved my life.”

  “The Eilian just saved your life,” Darian replied with a smile of his own.

  “I would appreciate it,” the lord continued, “if you would attend to those of my men who are the most seriously injured.”

  By this time, the rest of the knight's companions had arrived. Darian, along with Ian, immediately began healing the various wounds throughout the camp. Gwendolyn once again asked the Eilian for guidance before joining her companions in their task. As soon as this was complete, the knight turned his attention once again to the aged lord.

  “What happened?” he asked, helping the old man to his feet.

  “I can only assume that King Palnar took my betrayal as a personal insult,” the old man answered with a dark chuckle. “He sent an army of nearly two-thousand men, complete with a regiment of sorcerers, to burn my home to the ground. Which they managed to do, quite successfully.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that, my lord,” Ian replied.

  “I'm sorry for all the men who died trying to prevent it,” the lord said with a sigh. “Had I known we would face a force th
at numerous, I'd have led our men in retreat before the enemy ever arrived. I can only imagine what's happened at Rakklin by this time.”

  “We should head there immediately,” Darian asserted.

  “I suppose so,” the old man replied, shaking his head, “but, I'm not sure what good it will do.”

  “My lord,” a young soldier said, rushing into the camp as he spoke, “we've just received a message from Sir Willrak.”

  Chapter 17: The Storm

  “Let me see the note,” Lord Jannus said, holding out his hand as he spoke.

  The young soldier immediately obeyed. The aged lord broke the seal on the letter and quickly read its contents.

  “It seems that the Eilian are watching over us,” he said, lifting his eyes to the heavens with a smile. “After my fortress was nothing more than a smoldering heap of ruins, King Palnar ordered the force that attacked my home to make their next target the castle at Rakklin. Before their siege had even begun, however, a considerable force of elves crossed the Neres and marched toward the village.

  “Word reached the Mikralian commander before our allies did and he decided the best course of action would be to make a strategic withdrawal. As a result, Rakklin has been saved and Willrak currently has a number of elvish archers helping him man his walls.”

  “That's excellent news!” Darian exclaimed.

  “It's certainly better news than we could have hoped for,” Gregor nodded.

  “In addition,” the aged lord continued, “Lord Andor is, or was when this was written, in camp at the fords of the Neres. Willrak asks that, if I can find some way of getting a message to you, I ask you to join your lord there.”

  “We need to leave now,” the knight replied.

  “I agree,” Ian replied. “How long ago was that note sent?”

  “It was penned yesterday afternoon,” Lord Jannus replied, glancing down at the note. “I dispatched a messenger to warn Willrak of the probable attack two days ago.”

  “We should hurry,” Kilren said. “It will take us days to reach the fords from here. A lot can happen in that much time.”

 

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