Dark Lords of Epthelion Trilogy:Warrior Queen of Ha-Ran-Fel, A Dark Moon Rises, Castle of Blood

by Sandra Kopp

  Another of the Serpent’s disciples? This area teems with them. Arris thoughtfully chewed his lip.

  “I always thought Liesel should not have died,” Angyar murmured.

  “I am sorry she did.” The words sounded paltry, and Arris wished he could offer more. If Eli was anything like his son, he thought, Liesel meant nothing more than an attractive diversion until he’d had his fill, or a more enticing object appeared. Chafing under a forced marriage, he would have eagerly seized any opportunity to be rid of her. Complications in childbirth often claimed a woman’s life, and no one could have proven Eli guilty or negligent.

  Meanwhile, Angyar had simply waited, patiently bearing the scorn of his nephew and brother-in-law until he could avenge his sister’s death.

  Arris leaned back and sighed deeply, wondering whether the investigators ever noticed the lack of footprints around Eldor’s estate. While hard-packed earth comprised much of the yard, softer areas near the house should have yielded prints.

  Or had they really looked? Did they really care? During his rise to wealth Eldor Rand had bullied and intimidated more than a few people.

  You’re probably safe, my friend. Arris cast Angyar a sideways glance, and for a moment it seemed they connected telepathically. You know I suspect you, don’t you?

  Angyar stoically stared ahead. I also know you will say nothing. Aloud, he asked, “What does the council say?”

  Arris faced forward again. “They consider the fire an unfortunate accident and have closed the matter. Erik Tanner’s brother felt they should have done more, but the council disregarded his demand to reopen the case. Tanner threatened some of them. Then his barn burned down. Now he says nothing.”

  “Good. They have stopped a bully in his tracks.” Angyar studied his folded hands a moment and then tilted his head back, turning his gaze skyward. “Eldor served the serpent god; or rather, he tried to bend the god to his will. For a while he prospered. Much land and cattle, good crops, a beautiful wife. He should have cherished her, for no finer woman ever lived. They could have had a good life.”

  “And then?” Arris pressed.

  Angyar sat up, placing a hand on each thigh as he drew his legs back under the bench. “The serpent deals treacherously with his most devoted slaves, and even more so with vain fools who try to lord it over him. So it was with Eldor Rand. Cheating, murdering, always grasping for more.” Angyar clenched his fists and shook them. “More wealth! More power! Serpent, give me more, more, more! Take away this drudging woman who digs in the dirt and clings to me now. I loathe her! Give me instead the voluptuous but worthless harlot who tosses her head and bats her eyes and minces about, demanding the fancy apparel while teasing and enticing every man she fancies. Yes! Give me her!” Angyar dropped his hands. “Now they’re both dead, Eldor and his harlot—and the world is better for it.”

  For several minutes neither spoke. Finally Arris quietly cleared his throat. “I smelled the smoke early in the morning and followed it to Eldor’s place. As I studied the ruins I noted Marna’s body close to the house but Eldor’s some distance away.”

  Angyar snorted. “Do you think he would have risked his life to save her? No! Marna dies, he hunts another. Eldor was not like other men. In his world, he was king! Even the serpent god, amused at first by his arrogant bluster, tired of and destroyed him.”

  Arris shifted and turned to face Angyar. “You know this serpent god very well, don’t you?”

  The old herdsman regarded him sagely. “Better than you. Anhuapta once enticed me with the promise of benevolent lordship over Barren-Fel. I would unite the peoples, regain our lands, and reign in peace throughout my remaining days. But I renounced him. Now he entices you.”

  Arris stiffened. “I neither speak to nor listen to him.”

  “No?” A curious smile curved Angyar’s lips. “Be careful, my friend. You, who once inhabited the mystics’ realm, are you still so discerning? Anhuapta speaks in ways one does not expect. I have noted in you perceptive abilities beyond those of mortal men, even more so since the fight. Are these your own, honed during your Arganian days and retained through discipline? Or Anhuapta’s, meted to you bit by bit as he—or you—feel you need them?”

  Arris felt the blood rush to his head and straightened. “I sometimes employ what little of my Arganian heritage remains, and only what I deem necessary to protect my loved ones.”

  “Only what you deem necessary,” Angyar repeated softly. “And you do it in the name of love. How noble—and yet, how selfish.”

  Arris regarded him narrowly. “What do you mean?”

  “As I said, Anhuapta employs the unexpected to ensnare his prey. Just take a little, you say, to protect those you love. But you have stepped inside his trap. Just a foot in the door—that’s not so bad, you think.” Angyar’s eyes gleamed. “But you are inside, and now you taste power and it is sweet. Soon you will sacrifice your loved ones for more.”

  “I will not! Curse the power! I don’t want it! I choose to live as any other man, regardless of the limitations. I possess no special gifts or endowments. I retained my knowledge of herbs and potions, but lack power to cast spells, enhance my senses, or foresee the future. Indeed, I renounced that power when I discovered its source, and I continue to renounce it to this day.”

  “So you say. But will you acknowledge the sorcery through which you accompanied your brother to Eldor Rand’s wife on that fateful night?”

  “What sorcery?” Arris demanded.

  Angyar caught his breath and raised his hands submissively. “Nothing, nothing. I spoke hastily.” He shot Arris a sideways glance. “Having dealt with demons has made me wary. I perceive things other men don’t. I see things in you which concern me. I value your friendship. I hope you value mine. Mr. Arris, I warn you as a friend. Get out while you still can. You go any deeper—Anhuapta has you and nothing will save you!”

  Arris’ mouth went dry. Indeed, these past weeks he had murmured many Arganian chants, hoping Angelika or even Baldimora would hear and intensify the resistance against Anhuapta.

  His gaze hardened. “I must say, Angyar, your proficiency in the common tongue has greatly improved during these last moments.”

  Angyar returned his stare. “I have lived among Liedorans many, many years, and conversed with Anhuapta and his ilk. I am not an ignorant herdsman, but maintained that guise in order to live peaceably with those I love and wish to protect.”

  Angyar reached over and, laying his hand on Arris’, earnestly searched his face. “I beg you, Mr. Arris, with all the sincerity I can muster: Flee Anhuapta. Renounce all gifts, regardless of how benevolent or benign they may seem, especially those you consider Arganian. Cast them far from you, I beseech you!”

  Arris smiled. “I know you mean well, Angyar, and perhaps you are right. When I heard that Eldor Rand and his cronies were after Pharen I truly wished I had retained my commission. Out of habit I resorted to chants, not believing they held any power. To this day I don’t know that they did, but therein lies danger.”

  “You did Anhuapta much hurt during the Great War. He has not forgotten.”

  “I know.” Arris clasped Angyar’s hand. “I do value your friendship, Angyar. We’ve endured much together, and I count you among my staunchest allies, along with Davon, Hans, and Charles.”

  Angyar’s taut face relaxed. “I am glad.”

  “This evening I will search myself out and expel anything that—”

  “You cannot do this alone.”

  “My brother, Davon, will help me and, if need be, my sister, Angelika.”

  Angyar looked doubtful, but slowly nodded. “Davon possesses the needed discernment.” He paused. “I don’t think you should involve your sister.” Angyar glanced down. “I only hope you make good on your word.”

  “I shall, never fear.”

  “I will intercede on your behalf.” Angyar rose stiffly. “I return to my family now. Good day to you, Mr. Arris.”

  “And good day to you, A
ngyar. My best to your family.”

  “My best to yours also.” Angyar turned and walked to his horse.

  A cryptic smile crept across Arris’ face as Angyar rode away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Early November

  Felicia Marchant smiled to herself as she trotted her snow-white pony across the meadow. Autumn had cooled the muggy air and stained the verdant foliage with vibrant hues of orange, red, and gold. With the Rands, Erik Tanner, and the McNeils all dead, the heavy shroud of distrust among neighbors had slowly lifted. The remaining McNeil clan had retreated from public affairs. Best of all—Felicia drew a deep breath and held it a moment before letting it out again. She had wonderful news, but Arris had solemnly charged her to disclose nothing before the gathering.

  “How could Arris swear me to silence? I could burst with joy, and goodness knows Luwanna would welcome these tidings! I suppose, however, we can all last a few more days.” She chuckled. “And it is just a few more days. How swiftly the time has passed!”

  Birdsong echoed from every quarter, while overhead flocks of honking geese rode the winds to their winter abode. Pale sunlight filtered through a veil of thin clouds and highlighted Felicia’s golden curls. She turned onto the road leading to the Topyl home and urged her mount into a gallop.

  Luwanna, dressed in a loose blue dress, emerged from the henhouse carrying a basket of eggs. Her face lit up as Felicia entered the yard and she hurried to meet her guest as fast as her growing belly allowed. “Felicia, welcome! I’ve not seen you in so long. How are you?”

  Felicia alit and untied a pouch from her saddle. “Very well, thank you. How are you?”

  “I’m doing well.” Luwanna sobered. “I still miss Melinda, though.”

  “We all do.” Felicia fought to stem her rising excitement. “I brought you some green apples. They’re tart, but wonderful in pie. I also have news, although Arris forbids me to reveal anything until the gathering Saturday. Speaking of which: Would you be able to help me?”

  “At the gathering?” Luwanna hesitated. “I would like to, Felicia. I don’t know how much help I would be, though. I’ve not served at such functions and—” She smiled and patted her stomach—“This sometimes gets in my way.” She cocked her head. “I’m dying of curiosity concerning this news. If you tell me and I keep it to myself, Arris can’t possibly know, can he?”

  Felicia ruefully shook her head. “While no longer a mystic, Arris somehow knows these things, and I’ve never learned how to hide something I’ve done that I shouldn’t have. So, until Saturday—” Felicia sighed and then smiled. “Besides, it’s only two more days. Davon, my father, and Peter are setting up the tables. Gilda, Emma Bryant, and my mother and I are bringing the food. I thought perhaps you could help Bereniece set out the centerpieces and the food and then greet the newcomers.” She chuckled. “I thought, too, you might lend Baen some moral support. Baen is coming, isn’t he?”

  “I think so,” Luwanna returned slowly. “He feels awkward, though.” She laughed. “Braun tried to persuade Baen to go to last May’s gathering, but Baen told him he wanted to wait and see what Braun got and then decide. Hopefully I haven’t frightened him.”

  “Dear me, no! If anything, the prospect of meeting someone like you should make him more eager to attend. At any rate, Arris is bringing a beautiful young lady who has endured many hardships and needs a warm welcome. Your kind and giving nature charms all who meet you.” Felicia paused. “I would not prevail upon you, but we’re expecting an even larger group than we had last spring. I realize your pregnancy has not been easy, and should you not feel well—”

  “I’ll be fine,” Luwanna broke in with a smile. “Arris’ potions have lessened my discomfort significantly, and I’m eager to hear this news.” She sobered. “I only wish Melinda had found such happiness.”

  Felicia laid a comforting hand on Luwanna’s shoulder. “Remember what Arris told you at her memorial? Bleak though the situation appears, all will be well?”

  Luwanna nodded shortly.

  “You must believe that.” Felicia smiled, slipped her arm around Luwanna’s shoulders, and gave her a squeeze. “That’s all I can say now. In the meantime, I will see you early Saturday afternoon.”

  “All right.” Luwanna brightened. “Might I offer you some tea now?”

  “Thank you, but I have other errands to attend to. I’m off to the Lupishes.” Felicia returned to her horse and mounted. “Until Saturday.”

  “Good-bye.” Luwanna waved as Felicia cantered away.

  Saturday dawned blustery, cold, and overcast. A mid-morning squall blew through, briefly pelting the roofs and ground with icy pellets and tossing evergreen boughs about like waves on a stormy sea. By noon, however, the gale subsided and the impatient sun pushed the clouds aside to pour its warming beams upon the little town.

  The Teptiel grange bustled with activity. Braun, Luwanna, and Baen arrived to find the tables and chairs set up and Gilda, Felicia, and Bereniece Lupish preparing to dish up the food. Guests filled the building to capacity.

  Braun and Baen retreated to one side while Luwanna joined Felicia in the kitchen. A few moments later she emerged carrying a large bowl of potato salad and proceeded to the two long tables set end to end across the front of the room. As she set the bowl down she spied Arris, carrying his young son, and Merewyn at the back of the room. A young woman wearing a hooded cloak stood beside Merewyn. Arris smiled broadly and Luwanna, remembering that he brought news, hurried to greet him.

  She had barely taken ten steps when the young woman threw back her hood. Luwanna gasped and froze, hands cupped over her nose and mouth. “Melinda!”

  The crowd fell silent, their collective gaze fixed, first upon Luwanna, and then upon the young woman standing beside Merewyn.

  “Luwanna!”

  Arms open wide, the two women raced to embrace each other. For several seconds they remained locked together, each repeating the other’s name, while unbelieving townsmen closed in around them, all talking at once.

  Finally Luwanna released Melinda and stepped back, her incredulous stare traveling up and down Melinda’s frame. “I can’t believe it! I am so happy to see you! But how is this possible? You were dead! But here you are, and there’s not a mark on you. Your face, your hair—everything is perfect! Oh, Melinda!”

  Luwanna hugged her again, and now Gilda, Emma Bryant, Doneara Ellison and a host of other well-wishers gathered around, crying as they welcomed Melinda home.

  “Where were you all this time?” Luwanna stepped back again and wiped her eyes.

  “In Aerie, with Arris’ sister, Angelika. She’s an Arganian healer. I tell you, Luwanna, I have never seen such beauty! Snow white streets sparkle like diamonds in the sun. Waterfalls clothed in rainbows thunder down the cliffs. Flowers, trees, birds, and music all abound. And at night—oh, you have never seen such stars or the moon so large! I had never seen a shooting star before, but up there I saw several. And everyone’s so kind! How I got there I don’t know. The last I remembered was Eldor’s attack, and pain beyond anything I’ve ever felt. The world darkened. I thought I had died. And then I awoke with no pain, and Angelika beside me. I never wanted to leave.”

  “How did you get there?” Braun asked. “Aerie lies in the cliffs more than a hundred miles away. Injured as you were, you couldn’t possibly have made the trip.”

  Arris stepped up beside them. “You remember that Davon and Felicia arrived soon after you did and that Davon said he would see to Melinda. He bade you return home and for Luwanna to rest, for he feared for your child and the harm this trauma might inflict.”

  He laid a hand on Melinda’s shoulder and continued, “Davon detected within her the faintest spark of life. Fortunately, Angelika was visiting our parents. Davon sent for her, and through the Arganian arts she sustained and conducted Melinda safely to the healing house in Aerie, where she remained until last week when Angelika deemed her sufficiently recovered.”

  Felicia c
lasped Luwanna’s arm. “Didn’t I tell you all was well?”

  “You did, but I never dreamt it would be this well!” Luwanna broke into sobs.

  “Oh, come! Enough crying,” Melinda protested. “The heartache has passed. I want to hear about you.” Her gaze dropped to Luwanna’s stomach. “No baby yet?”

  “February—and you shall be the godmother,” Luwanna proclaimed.

  The room erupted into enthusiastic applause. Melinda beamed as she clasped both of Luwanna’s hands. “I shall be honored. And how pleased I am to be able to rejoice with you!”

  Melinda turned to exchange greetings with the others, especially Gilda, Doneara, and Emma, who clung to her as though they would never let her go. But gradually the excitement ebbed, and as the crowd drifted away, a tall, dark-haired young man with intense brown eyes approached Melinda. He bowed stiffly. “You are—available?” he asked.

  Melinda blushed and nodded. The man took Melinda’s hand and kissed it. “I am Baen Topyl. I am a herdsman of Barren-Fel, but have since acquired the means to buy my own farm. I have no wife, but deeply desire one—and children.”

  Melinda’s blush deepened. “I am Melinda Gree—I-I mean—”

  “I know. Braun has told me.” Baen gently squeezed her hand. “You are very beautiful, Melinda,” he whispered. “Might we talk?”

  Melinda’s eyes misted. She nodded shortly. “Yes.”

  Smiling through her tears, Luwanna watched Baen lead Melinda to a corner.

  Melinda stirred softly and snuggled deeper into the downy mattress embracing her. Even though half asleep she knew it was Sunday morning and that she lay in the big feather bed at the Rainers.

  And I’m also engaged!

  Warmth flooded over her as she recalled the handsome, attentive man she had met the previous afternoon. Alone together in that quiet corner, oblivious to the world, they had poured out their hearts to each other, discussing hopes and dreams and plans for their future. Enraptured, they had scarcely taken their eyes off each other. Baen’s tender hand never let Melinda’s go, and even now the memory of his soft, steady voice sent little shivers along her body. Everything Eldor denied her Baen gave freely.