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

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Nathaniel had remained close to Reyna, convincing himself that he was only being diligent in his duty. In appearance the princess looked to be a young woman of a delicate nature with an inviting smile and attractive body, but the Graycoat had seen her in battle and knew better than to judge her based on appearances.

  The group was offered a glance of Direport, packed with ships and boats of every size. The port was so big it could have been a town unto itself. Nathaniel’s gaze was drawn to the largest ship in the bay, with its flag waving high upon the mast in the wind. The dragon that adorned the flag was impossible to miss. Dragorn’s elite had already arrived in Velia, it seemed. The Graycoat looked up at the king’s palace and realised he was about to meet all the royalty in the land. Then again, he was walking behind an elf, so meeting a few kings and queens was rather dull in comparison.

  As usual, Elaith stuck to Asher like a baby cub. The ranger didn’t appear to mind however, often taking the time to impart some of his own lessons from the road on the young Graycoat. Nathaniel met Darius Devale’s eyes under his hood, a silent statement reflected his glare: be ready. He looked around quickly, checking the alley ways and windows for any sign of his fellow Graycoats. As soon as the elves were safely inside the palace, Nathaniel knew they would pounce on the ranger and take him to West Fellion. He couldn’t allow that. Could he?

  The streets remained empty with only the occasional door opening, whereupon the city guards would quickly force them back inside. Nathaniel kept his grip tight on the bow slung over his shoulder. He wiggled and scrunched his right fingers to warm them up and keep them flexible in case an arrow required notching in a hurry.

  What was he doing? Would he really fire upon his brothers-in-arms to defend the ranger, a man who had killed Graycoats in the past? Nathaniel looked back at Asher again, catching his eye under the billowing green hood. There was honesty in the ranger’s face, an honesty Nathaniel was unaccustomed to seeing.

  The Graycoat hated that there was a longing in his heart to travel with the ranger and have an honest, uncomplicated life on the road. But the order was all he had ever known. Oaths had been taken to protect the realm, and protect it he would. No, not the realm, he thought, the people...

  The streets soon opened up into a grand square, guarded at every entry point by soldiers in red. Servants of the king were hurrying about in the rain with decorations and bunting, climbing the buildings and hanging more flags of the wolf-head. By the end of the day the entire city would be ready for celebrations, when King Rengar introduced the elves to the people. The servants looked up at the group, curious about the king’s new guests, eager to see what all the fuss was about.

  Two soldiers opened the large double doors that led into the palace foyer, where a wide red carpet had been laid out with gold trimming. Standing at the bottom of the marble staircase was Lovani, the master of servants. When the doors closed behind them, the lanky man bowed in front of the elves, who had now removed their hoods and revealed their elegant features.

  “Princess, esteemed guests, may I present King Rengar the sixth, of the royal house Marek, Lord of Alborn...”

  King Rengar descended the staircase from the left, while his wife, Queen Helena, came down from the right, until they both met in the middle. Behind the queen were the royal couple’s three teenage daughters and several maids, one of whom was holding the baby prince. The king was backed by his advisors and the court mage, Galkarus Vod. Dressed in their finest clothes and capes, the royal family glistened with jewellery and crowns adorning each of their heads.

  Nathaniel caught sight of Lovani’s raised eyebrow at the collective grubbiness of the group, giving special attention to the ruined carpet under their muddy feet. The Graycoat stifled his laugh, but did nothing to hide his smirk at the servant’s dismay. The elves bowed out of respect to the royals, though their wet and muddy exterior did nothing to conceal their beauty. Even stood next to the immaculate family, the elves appeared more regal and majestic.

  King Rengar waved his hands, as if welcoming old friends. “After so long, it is truly a pleasure to welcome you in my home.”

  The king went on to introduce his wife and children, while Nathaniel let his gaze wander to count all the guards he could see. There wasn’t a chance that the king would allow the ranger to be taken during such a historic occasion, but the Graycoat couldn’t ignore his training and took stock of his surroundings.

  “It is we who are honoured to be invited into your home, King Rengar.” Reyna gave what Nathaniel suspected was a rehearsed line and smile to match. “This is my guardian and mentor, Faylen Haldör and my advisor, Mörygan Mörgö.”

  The king laughed with glee. “Come, I have gathered the rulers of Illian as you requested. They’re positively shaking with excitement at the prospect of meeting you all.”

  The princess made no move to follow the king. “Perhaps, Your Grace, we might rest for a short while, before meeting such a venerable group?”

  “But of course!” The king seemed to take in the elves’ attire for the first time. “I shall have my servants see to your clothes immediately.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Faylen interjected, adjusting the sack-cloth bag that hung on her back.

  “As you wish.” King Rengar bowed and snapping his fingers at the master of servants. “Lovani will show you to your rooms at once.”

  The elves were ushered away, until Reyna turned back to Nathaniel, who had remained behind, awaiting instruction.

  “Are my protectors not to follow?” Reyna asked with an equal mix of sarcasm and expectation in her tone.

  “Ah, what a fine job the Graycoats have done in escorting you to Velia.” King Rengar bowed his head in thanks. “But the palace guard will see to your safety from now on, Princess Reyna.”

  “We were attacked upon landing on your shores, King Rengar. Had it not been for the bravery and skill of the Graycoats, we would not be standing here.” Nathaniel suspected that last part to be an exaggeration. “I see no reason why they cannot continue to watch over us...”

  The king hesitated before replying. “Of course, as you wish, Princess. But rest assured I have my best investigators looking into the people who attacked you. They will be brought to justice.”

  Reyna flashed Nathaniel a glance, before turning to follow Lovani. Did she want him to stay? His own desires for the elf had caused his imagination to run wild. There was no way the princess of the elven nation could have any interest in him. Could she? Nathaniel had never had so many questions in his life. Meeting Asher and the elves had complicated life somewhat. Or was it simply more interesting? The Graycoat shook his head to rid himself of such internal toil. Elaith and Darius were frantically whispering to one another behind him, keeping their distress away from the departing royal family.

  “What’s the matter?” Nathaniel could already see the problem.

  Asher was gone.

  “Where the bloody hell has he gone?” Darius drew close to Nathaniel, gripping his arm as they continued to follow the elves.

  “How should I know?” Nathaniel wondered if the ranger had even passed through the palace doors.

  “If I discover that you had a hand in helping that vagabond flee, I will personally see to your exile from the order, if not your execution.” Darius shoved Nathaniel’s arm aside and strode on.

  Nathaniel paid little attention to Devale’s threat, instead taking the time to survey the foyer before it disappeared from sight. There was no sign of Asher between the columns or the balcony above. The ranger must have slipped away before they entered the palace, even his tradecraft couldn't see him vanish in the middle of the foyer.

  “Where did he go?” Elaith came up on his side.

  “I have no idea. But something tells me we haven’t seen the last of him.”

  Asher ducked into the shadows of the nearest alley and scaled the building in seconds. The rainwater dripped off every inch of his body, forcing him to take extra care with his grip. From
the safety of the building top, the ranger looked down on the three Graycoats as they rounded the corner. They stopped short, until one of them ran on ahead to check the next street at the end of the alley. The knights proceeded to check behind abandoned crates and clear out the darkened doorways. Asher stalked them from above, a predator hunting its prey. The assassin inside him was hungry to finish his efforts and pounce on the Graycoats, killing them effortlessly.

  The ranger pulled away from the ledge and closed his eyes, allowing the urge to pass. Killing them would only attract attention he didn’t need. The city was crawling with extra patrols, and no doubt every Graycoat would be looking for him now. Retrieving Hector from the stables would be problematic; but he’d deal with that later.

  They were coming.

  The Arakesh had failed to fulfil their contract to whoever hired them. The Father would send more to make things right, he would send someone deadlier. Asher was too close to the intended target to see everything around him, he needed to step back to see the bigger picture. Whatever assassin was sent to finish the job would have to sneak into the city and infiltrate the palace, and Asher knew every way they would try.

  The old ranger pulled his cloak tight against the lashing rain, and sat with his back to the chimney, his thoughts clouded by the mysterious assassin that accompanied the Arakesh. Had he travelled with them, or had he lay in wait to see if the Arakesh succeeded in their kill, before revealing himself? The way he had moved was familiar, especially the speed with which he danced around Asher. The ranger had only ever seen one other individual fight in such a manner.

  “Alidyr Yalathanil...” He whispered the name inside his hood.

  The elven master was Nightfall’s biggest secret, the creator of the Nightseye elixir and the longest serving instructor in all forms of combat. The elf’s twin-blades were legendary. Asher had personally seen Alidyr cut other swords to pieces with his diamond-edged swords. The ranger had spent a long time in Nightfall ensuring the elf overlooked him; a lesson his oldest friend and father-figure had taught him.

  Nasta Nal-Aket...

  It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to even think that name. Was this new assassin connected to Nightfall, to the Father? He moved like an elf and wielded magic like an elf, but Asher would have recognised Alidyr’s voice if it had been him, besides; everyone knew the elf never left Nightfall.

  Asher glanced at the black gem, poking out of his fingerless glove. He was thankful for the protection it had granted him during the encounter with the inexplicable elf. Something told him he was going to have to rely on its protection again before this was all over.

  When the Graycoats had moved on in their search, Asher jumped onto the adjacent, taller building and climbed onto the roof. The ranger surveyed the city and the palace, looking for the entry points he knew any assassin would take. When they came, he would be ready.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Duty-Bound

  Reyna explored her new chamber, while Faylen and Mörygan examined their own, each connected by a door at the back of the room. Gold and silver antiques lined the drawers and mantle, above the wide fire-place, whose fire reflected in the many long mirrors, which hung in almost every corner. A giant four-poster bed dominated the centre of the room with luxurious fabrics for bed-linen. A bowl of fruits and sweets had been placed on the circular table at the foot of the bed. The cold, stone floor was almost entirely covered by the fur and head of a brown bear, its expression of anger and pain, in what must have been its final moments, upset Reyna.

  The elven culture she had grown up with was hardened, with lessons devoted to hunting and fighting and using magic for combat and protection. It was the only way Reyna had ever seen her people, though secretly when she snuck out at night and ran through the Amara, the princess had felt a connection to the wildlife that had never been explained to her; the calling of the trees, the trust given to her by the creatures that lived in the great forest, and the sense of belonging that resonated in her heart. Was that how her people had once lived? Were those the elves Nathaniel spoke of from the human history books?

  Faylen had always told Reyna that her inquisitive nature was borne of her young age. Her mentor believed that the princess would eventually come round to their new ways, despite having never lived through the wars. Reyna did not agree with that theory. Surely her nature is simply how elves were created to be, and that all other elves by comparison were unnatural in their chosen evolution to become predators. Her people were supposed to be noble and regal, with pure intentions, certainly capable, warriors even... but not killers. The thought of her father’s plan opened a hole in her stomach.

  Could she really go through with this?

  Faylen entered her chamber unannounced, via the connecting door, putting a swift end to Reyna’s musings. Mörygan was close at her heel, his black robes flowing behind his stride.

  “These chambers will suffice.” Mörygan stopped by the glass doors to Reyna’s balcony. “Now Princess, remember your instructions; when you meet with the mages of Korkanath you must...” A knock at the door silenced Reyna’s advisor.

  “Enter.” Reyna knew she should have dismissed whoever was at the door, but she just couldn’t go over the plan again.

  To her delight, Nathaniel entered the room with his ward, Elaith. The princess noted that Darius Devale was not with them, but could only see that as a good thing. As an elf, Reyna felt she was an excellent judge of character, and Darius Devale had a devious feel about him.

  “Any luck finding Asher?” the princess asked, all too aware of the stir it had caused between the Graycoats. Reyna still wasn’t sure what significance the ranger was in the knights’ plans, but they appeared to be distressed at his sudden disappearance.

  “Yes, I would very much like to speak with him,” Mörygan added. The older elf was more interested in Asher’s magical abilities than anything else.

  “I’m afraid not.” Nathaniel motioned for Elaith to close the door behind them. “Darius has left to organise the remaining Graycoats to search for him.”

  “Do we think something untoward has befallen the ranger?” Faylen asked, no doubt fearing that the assassins had returned.

  “Asher fulfilled his agreement with the king in escorting you safely to Velia,” Nathaniel explained. “I believe this form of exit is quite normal for a ranger.”

  “A shame,” Mörygan remarked. “He was perhaps the most interesting human I’ve met.”

  Reyna rolled her eyes, hearing the passive insult her advisor threw at Nathaniel. The princess was just happy to see his dark eyes and unusual hair again. His rough exterior was wonderfully new to the elf.

  Nathaniel became very interested in Faylen’s handling of the sack-cloth bag she placed on the floor. Reyna knew what was coming and smiled, knowing that the Graycoat was about to be astonished. The elven mentor opened the bag and reached inside, until her entire arm appeared to have gone through the stone floor. Faylen pulled up and began to work the cloth bag around the edges of an emerging wooden chest. Both Nathaniel’s and Elaith’s mouths fell open in speechless wonder, as the impossible unfolded in front of their eyes.

  “There was a chest inside that... bag.” Elaith nudged Nathaniel’s arm, as if to ensure that he had seen the same thing.

  “Do they not teach you magic at West Fellion?” Reyna asked, bemused.

  “Not really,” Nathaniel replied, his eyes fixed on the chest. “Nothing like that.”

  “This magic is nothing.” Faylen opened the chest to reveal fresh clothes. “Even your mages possess this knowledge.”

  “Now we require privacy, young knight.” Mörygan dismissed the Graycoats with a look to the door.

  Nathaniel met Reyna’s eyes once more, before he bowed his head and ushered Elaith out.

  The Adean waves battered Galanör and his team as they reached the rocky shores of Korkanath. The elves were exhausted, having been abandoned by the Mer-folk well over a mile away from the islan
d. The sea creatures feared Malliath’s piercing gaze, his dragon’s eyes capable of spotting their glimmering scales beneath the surface. The group floated on their backs in the rain, metres away from the black, rocky beach. The magic allowing them to breathe underwater and survive the pressure of the Mer-folks’ speed had dissipated.

  “If I don’t see another Mer-man for the rest of my immortal life, I will be a very happy elf.” Adamar‘s strong arms recovered faster than the others, bringing him closer to the shore.

  “Wait Adamar!” Through laboured breaths, Eliön called for caution, when Adamar found the rocky surface beneath the water. “We don’t know if the princess has...”

  “I’m not freezing in the water, waiting for a signal we’ll never see.” Adamar waded through the ocean up to his waist. The diviner would be useless on the island, leaving them to more traditional methods communication with Mörygan. “This storm will cover any sign from Velia.”

  “Adamar...” Galanör intoned his authority, hoping to stop the big elf in his tracks.

  Thunder erupted overhead, drawing their gaze to the high walls of Korkanath. The stone walls grew out of the natural rock that formed the island. Adamar strode onwards, until his first foot breached the water and settled firmly on Korkanath’s dry land. The next thunder-clap, that tore apart the sky, did little to mask the angry undertone that roared across the world. All five elves, still in the water, looked at each other in concern, before slowly turning to Adamar on the beach.

  Galanör didn’t have time to be angry with him. “Everyone out of the water, NOW!”

  Adamar unsheathed his sword, while the others scrambled from the water. Ailas was the first to reach the shore, tearing the protective cover from his quiver and notching an arrow in the blink of an eye. The two elves searched the stormy skies in every direction, waiting for the group break the water’s edge.

  “Put your weapons away!” Lyra ordered. “They will do no good against Malliath. We need to find the binding spell first.”