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Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1)

Page 12

by Philip C. Quaintrell


  The king was not what Asher had been expecting. He was devoid of the usual gems and jewellery that accompanied a man of his standing, with clothes no more majestic than a man of moderate wealth, though his simple shirt and trousers were no doubt made of the finest materials. The ranger guessed Rengar to be of a similar age to himself, with perhaps a few more wrinkles around his eyes. His short dark hair was slicked back and greying along his receding hairline, where Asher could make out the faintest of scars on the king’s forehead.

  “Thank you Lovani that will be all.” Rengar’s voice commanded subservience. Here was a man who had been giving orders and getting his way since birth.

  Lovani stood aside, staring at Darius Devale with his arm outstretched towards the door. Devale hesitated, realising the master of servants was indicating for the Graycoat to leave with him. A single look from the king confirmed he was to leave with Lovani. Darius bowed once, with a distrustful glance at Asher, and left promptly.

  The secret door closed without a sound behind them, revealing the bookshelf that disguised its presence. The king slowly made his way to the embellished chair behind his desk, taking in the ranger’s appearance with a measured gaze. Rengar clasped his hands and tilted his head, considering his words with care and much forethought, as was expected of a king. Asher knew to wait for Rengar to start the conversation; even old assassins knew how to talk to royalty.

  “I like to come up here to think, to get away from it all,” the king began. “I would offer you a seat but only one was made for this room, I don’t have guests in this part of the castle. I hope this demonstrates the gravity with which you have been invited. I have an unlimited supply of underlings more than ready to take secret meetings like this on my behalf, but I wanted to see you myself.” A flash of lightning drowned out the candle light.

  “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”

  “It’s not what you can do for me, ranger, but what you can do for Illian.” Rengar’s pale blue eyes bored into Asher. “What do you know about the elves?”

  The question took Asher by surprise. He knew more about elves than anyone else in Illian, but then again so did every assassin trained at Nightfall. The ranger couldn’t help but look away for a moment, while he tried to bury his memories about the Arakesh’s biggest secret.

  “The same as everyone else,” he lied. “After the dragons started the war with us, they left for Ayda. No one has seen or heard from them since.” As far as he knew, that last part was actually true.

  “Until now...” King Rengar placed his hand over the scroll laid out on his desk. “They are returning, Asher; the elves are coming home. The lord of elves has dispatched an envoy with his daughter, Princess Reyna Sevari.”

  Something about that name triggered a memory in Asher’s mind, but instead of recalling an image he could smell ash and smoke.

  “On behalf of the elves, the Princess will start a dialogue between our two nations, so that we might begin to reintegrate our societies. We can start with trade and what not, but think of the knowledge they hold, not just about the past, but about magic, immortality and the lands beyond Illian.”

  Asher could see the hunger for power that twinkled in the king’s eyes. He was just like every other man, ruler or peasant; he just wanted more. An alliance with the elves would give Velia a serious advantage over the other countries in Illian, especially Greystone, home to King Orvish and personal rival of Rengar’s.

  “I fail to see how I fit into all this, Your Grace.”

  “I have already sent messengers to the other rulers of Illian, including the highest mages at Korkanath. As we speak they are journeying from all over the land to be here for the elves arrival. After all, this is to be a monumental piece of history...” Rengar looked eager to shove it in their faces that the elves had chosen Velia. “Tomorrow I will announce this to my people, so that feasts and parades might be prepared to welcome our guests, both royal and elf.” That explained the extra guards and the curfew around Velia. “However, this damn storm has delayed events. My court mages tell me it cannot be shifted... useless lot. The elves have had to travel north, for calmer waters. Instead of arriving in Direport in a few days, they are now expected to make shore in the mouth of the Unmar. I want you to meet them and bring them back to Velia safely.”

  Asher raised his eyebrow at the king’s request. It was a lot of information to take in at once, especially for someone who had been leading the simpler life for fourteen years. The elves returning to Illian was unexpected, given how things were supposedly left between their two kinds a millennium ago.

  “Surely you have a thousand men more suitable for this than I. The Graycoats would do this for free, but if you’ve heard of me Your Grace, then you know my services aren’t cheap.”

  “I don’t want an army to be the first thing the elves see, and I don’t want to send an organisation that has no allegiance. And you’re right, I have heard of you ranger... or should I say assassin?” The king’s gaze was piercing. “Your past is infamous. To this day Queen Isabella recounts the day you saved her life and that of her son’s from an Arakesh plot. It’s your past that makes you so valuable to this endeavour. My spies tell me that a contract has been drawn up between the Arakesh and an unknown party. It is believed their objective is to sabotage this new alliance and assassinate the elves before they reach Velia. I offer you this job because you know how they think. You’ll see what others could not, a difference that could keep the elves alive, I think.”

  “I take it I don’t have much of a choice?” Asher turned briefly to the secret door behind him.

  “Oh, you have a choice. Take the job and get rich... or don’t. I should point out that the latter will see you returned to the custody of the Graycoats, beyond that I cannot see you making any choices ever again.”

  “Well, when you put it like that...”

  “Name your price, ranger.”

  Asher took a moment to think about that number, it wasn’t everyday such an offer was made by a king. Of course, there was the chance he would never get to spend a single coin of it. If Nightfall really had accepted a contract to assassinate the princess of elves, Asher would be hard pressed to stop them. Elves would prove a formidable foe for any one, or even two Arakesh, forcing the Father to send a team to kill them. It had been a long time since the ranger had fought with the warriors of his old order. He had defeated three in the palace at Lirian and one before that, but he had felt the cruel bite of time since then. Asher knew he was still faster than any man, but the Arakesh were bred to be more than that. It was the first time in his career as a ranger that he had questioned whether he could accomplish the job.

  “This is no ordinary job, nor is it easy...” Asher began with his usual bartering techniques, though for the first time he actually believed his words.

  “I am more than aware of what I ask, ranger. Name your price.”

  “I want an account setting up within Stowhold.” Asher’s first request gave the king pause. Stowhold was the central bank used throughout all of Illian, with the many treasures of every kingdom stored inside, and overseen by the Addathorn family. “This account will never run dry for as long as I live, but don’t worry, I’m a man of simple needs. Finally, I want the deed to five square miles of land on the coast, somewhere near The Willows.” He wasn’t sure why he made that last request, a glimmer of hope for his old age, perhaps?

  “Is that all?” Rengar appeared more amused than anything. “Thinking of settling down are we? I don’t blame you, time beats us all...” The king inspected the back of his hand, where the faintest of liver spots were beginning to show. “You might reconsider, should you succeed. This endeavour will see you rise from humble ranger to a hero of the people, ushering a new golden age for Illian.”

  “Do we have a deal, Your Grace?” The fame would certainly help with future jobs, but Asher had little interest in being a hero.

  “Bring the princess and the elves back to Velia, and you can start you
r new life.” Rengar leant forward in his chair. “I take it this buys me your loyalty, as well as your services. You are to be my representative on this endeavour, ranger. The Lord Marshal of West Fellion has charged Darius Devale and a group of Graycoats with accompanying you, but you are-”

  “Graycoats? I work alone-”

  “Do not interrupt me again.” King Rengar maintained his steely gaze. “You are to be my representative, not precious Devale out there. Your skills are legendary, but I suspect the Arakesh will provide you with quite the challenge, and as much as I hate to admit it, the Graycoats are the best fighters at my disposal, so they will accompany you.”

  “I thought West Fellion wasn’t supposed to do king’s work...” Asher couldn’t think of anything worse than having a team of Devale’s lackeys getting in his way.

  “They need more money. After this, I have no doubt Lord Marshal Horvarth will find himself at my door, requesting I pledge more coin to their order. If Velia pays more, so too will the other kingdoms, to ensure the Graycoats show no bias towards me. Besides, if I send you and them, I risk no Velian lives. Now answer my question.”

  Asher’s loyalty couldn’t be bought, he had been free now for fourteen years and had no intention of giving that over to any king, but for the opportunity of a retirement he thought would never come, the ranger was willing to bow the head and play along. Asher knew he could get lost in the world and forget this meeting had ever happened. They couldn’t find him if he didn’t want them to.

  “You have my loyalty. I will escort and protect the elves on your behalf. But I’m in charge, Devale follows my orders...” Asher hesitated, thinking about his next demand. “...And I want the two Graycoats who brought me here.” The ranger couldn’t fathom why he made such a request.

  “Excellent! Galkarus, my court mage, will see to your horses.” Rengar stood up and made for the opulent door to his left. “Lovani will see you out, you leave immediately.”

  Nathaniel and Elaith sat in the only tavern still serving food past midnight. They had been forced to seek out shelter beyond the walls of Velia, in the small village sprawled across the fields. Nathaniel had shovelled the food into his mouth, paying no attention to its taste, as he imagined punching Darius Devale over and over. With the exception of a couple of professional alcoholics, slumped over the bar, the tavern was deserted.

  Elaith looked despairingly at the plate of ribs before her. “I’ve seen more meat on old skeletons.”

  “Eat up, if your hunting skills are anything to go by, it’ll be the last good meal you get before we reach West Fellion.”

  The young woman grumbled and continued to pick off what meat she could. He knew the fight with the bandits was still playing on her mind, it was bound to. It wasn’t the first fight he would have picked for her, but at least the outlaw she killed was a complete bastard of a human being. The bandit’s face would haunt her for many years to come, but at least the death wouldn’t weigh on her conscience.

  “What will happen when we return to West Fellion?” Elaith asked.

  “You’ve performed well.” Nathaniel wasn’t used to giving praise,.“I will feed back your assessment and you’ll graduate.”

  Elaith didn’t look too happy about the prospect. Even though she had been training for eight years, the final test was over in the blink of an eye. Nathaniel knew the month wouldn’t be over before Elaith received her first patrol duty. Four out of ten students never return from their first year patrolling. He kept that statistic to himself.

  The tavern door creaked open and slammed into the wall. The sound of the rain and thunder blew in with the wind, as a tall silhouette stood in the doorway. Nathaniel’s fist closed at the sight of Darius Devale striding into the tavern, water flowing off his long coat and his hair matted against his face. The senior Graycoat quickly scanned the bar, before resting on Nathaniel and Elaith, and stomped over with an expression to match the storm.

  “Darius...?”

  Devale stood before them and briefly looked back at the door with a face of contempt. “We have been charged with a mission of great importance to the realm...” He paused, contorting his mouth. “There is a far greater chance of success if you would accompany us.”

  In a flash of lightning, Nathaniel caught sight of Asher outside, astride his horse and smirking mischievously at Darius Devale’s back.

  part two

  Chapter Eleven

  Heading for Darker Shores

  Reyna hung over the side of the ship, clinging to the sheets attached to the sails, and bathed in the warm rays, under the midday sun. With Faylen’s Seabreath in her veins, Reyna could finally enjoy the delights of sailing and the joy of the ocean. Looking down, The Adean was rushing by, spraying her with cold water, while Ölli flew overhead, circling the ship. They had escaped the storm and entered calmer waters with their northern bering, though the dark clouds could still be seen on the southern horizon.

  Using exceptional agility, Reyna swung round the sheet and flipped onto the deck. Faylen stood at the stern, ignoring the wheel and using magic to fill the sails with wind. Mörygan was below deck, using the diviner to communicate with Galanör on Dragorn. She looked at the storm again and knew it had forced them all to alter their plans.

  “Mörygan spoke with your father last night,” Faylen called from the stern.

  Reyna slowly walked up the steps to see her mentor. “What did he say?” She knew it wouldn’t be anything good. All her life, her father had been nothing but the lord of elves, his commands were to be followed and nothing more. If it wasn’t for her mother’s love, Reyna would have been convinced her birth was intended solely for her father’s grand plan. Choosing not to dwell on her mother’s absence, the princess focused on Faylen’s words.

  “He feels we are being opposed. The elders, including your father, have been unable to dispel the storm that has affected our plans thus.”

  “Who would even know to oppose us?” Reyna asked, concerned. The plan had been put together over many years by her father, and was only known in full to a fraction of their kind. There were certainly no humans aware of the plan.

  “That is what troubles us all. To control a storm of that size and power takes considerable magic, but to maintain it for so long and against the will of the elders and human mages, that would require almost unlimited energy. Your father doubts it is any one caster, but several, combining their magic to harness the storm.” The crystals that decorated Faylen’s bracelet began to shine, as if the stars themselves were trapped inside.

  “Does the lord of elves think we are being sabotaged?” Reyna asked.

  Faylen gave her a knowing look she had expressed before. Reyna’s mentor knew how she felt about her father and found it difficult that the princess always referred to him by title. Reyna knew that Faylen had always wanted the relationship between father and daughter to flourish, as it had with her mother, but respect was the only emotion Reyna knew how to give him. His age and wisdom demanded it.

  “Your father fears that there are some in Illian still loyal to Valanis.”

  “But how could that be? When Valanis was defeated at Elethiah, the humans were still scattered on the edge of the Wild Moores. Even the Darkakin arrived too late to be influenced by his dark magic.” Reyna had studied history under Faylen herself, but it helped that her parents had lived it.

  “The war didn’t end in Elethiah, there were still elves bound to his insidious will after the battle. We hunted them down before leaving, but your father thinks it might be possible that a following of humans was cultivated first. If this proves to be true, their cult will only have swelled over a thousand years.”

  “So it could be someone loyal to King Rengar, someone who knows we’re coming?”

  “Not necessarily, as well as the high mages of Korkanath, we instructed the king to invite the kings and queens from across the land. There is a much larger circle of suspects now.” Faylen adjusted the sails to change tack.

  “What
could these people want?” Reyna thought about a group of humans coming between them and their plans. It made sense to try to stop the elves from succeeding if they worshipped Valanis, but what could they possibly hope to achieve in the long run? Valanis was trapped in Elethiah for all time.

  “If they exist, their only goal would be to free Valanis. But without the dragons it is impossible to break the Amber spell. The dark one is beyond man’s grasp, Reyna.”

  “Not according to the prophecy...” Reyna was aware of how sensitive the topic was.

  “Your father doesn’t believe in the Echoes of Fate. And you know he has deemed its words unreliable.” It was clear to see the conflict on Faylen’s face.

  Reyna’s mother was a firm believer in Nalana’s dying words, putting her at odds with her husband, who had lost his faith in the gods and their gift of prophecy. Faylen had joined Adilandra in her belief, but the queen had commanded Faylen to stay with Reyna when she left for the southern lands of Ayda, back in the east.

  “If he doesn’t believe the Echoes, why has he made plans according to Nalana’s words?” Reyna wasn’t sure what she believed in, but the fact that her father was so against the prophecy only pushed her towards believing in it.

  “He doesn’t believe in the prophecy,” Mörygan emerged from below, “but he does believe in man’s power to destroy. If there is a way to free Valanis, man is sure to find it. They will not realise what they unleash that day, but they will come to regret it with the rest of Illian. It is our responsibility to ensure that mankind never get the chance.”

  Reyna could feel the need for confrontation rising in her. “And the eve of this plan just happens to coincide with the arrival of Paldora’s star?” The princess looked to the sky where any day now, the comet known as Paldora’s star would cross the night’s sky, as it did every five hundred years. Its presence was well documented in Nalana’s prophesy, as well as the peril that would accompany it.

 

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