The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1]

by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

  Looking down at the sword in his hand, Winterstar chuckled and slid the blade back into its scabbard on his back. “I find this particular pathway a quiet place to practice my sword moves. The training arena can be fairly crowded at times, and I find I spend most of my time correcting the techniques of the others using the facility."

  "Would it permissible for me to use the arena? It has been several days since I last worked out because we were traveling."

  "Of course you can use it; it is available to everyone. Don't be surprised if you get challenged to spar with some of the others. They are always eager to test their skills against a new opponent.” Winterstar looked Rory over. “I don't think I will be among your challengers, but I suspect I will be wagering heavily on you. Who was your trainer? Swiftstalker?"

  "Yes, along with General Gustav of Westfell."

  "Now I know I won't match blades with you! That combination would be deadly.” Winterstar laughed.

  "I will leave you to your workout. I am just out for a stroll, getting to know my surroundings. What lies farther down this path?"

  "Other than the stables, there is not much down this path, which is why I practice here. Few of us visit the stables unless we are heading outside. But if you go back about fifty yards or so, you will find a branching path off to the right that will take you to the gathering grounds."

  Rory bowed and then strode off in the indicated direction. He found the place where the path branched off and slowly wandered along its winding course. He turned around one hedge-obscured bend to discover another contemplation spot with a turn and another marvelous statue. What made this one different was that this spot was in use by one of the most beautiful women Rory had ever seen.

  His first impression was of fire. Her hair was a mass of gold and red, and seemed to move with a life of its own as she sat there contemplating the statue. Her kaftan was also of the same hues, arranged to give the impression of leaping flames. Her face was incredible. Individually, each part was perfect, yet together, they combined in a fashion that seemed to surpass perfection. Her carriage was erect and absolutely still; only her eyes, the color of emeralds with a strong light shining behind them—a clear bright green—moved in her face as she examined the statue before her. Her skin was the color of new fallen snow, flawlessly white and without any visible blemish, marked only by rich full lips the color of fine claret. As he stepped forward, her gaze snapped toward him, freezing him in his tracks.

  "I beg your pardon,” Rory said, “if I have disturbed you."

  She rose to her feet. The fluid grace with which she stood made all others seem clumsy and awkward. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him with the same intensity she had shown before. “You must be Brightblade's son. I had heard you described as being much like him, but he was never as large as you and your eyes are very different."

  "Yes, I am Rorrick, son of Prince Brightblade. I have been told that my eyes are like those of my mother. I must say that I have never seen eyes as bright or as green as yours."

  A faint rosy flush flashed over her skin. “The green is from nature, and the glow is a gift from the life force. It is a transitory aftereffect from manipulating forces within the Heart. I am called Arianna."

  "I'm pleased to meet you, Arianna. Would you explain what it was about this statue that had you so intent upon it?"

  Arianna gestured at the bench. “Please join me and I will see if I can explain.” After they both sat, she said, “Working with the Forces of Life requires intense focus to see and manipulate them. I have found that after several hours of work, that focus remains for a period of time. I spend that time studying things at a level deeper than I normally would. For example, I have been experiencing the life of this stone, from lying deep within the Kendrahl Mountains to being quarried by the dwarves, how it felt to be shaped and polished by the dwarven sculptor, and finally its satisfaction with its place here within the Veil."

  "You speak as if the stone was alive!"

  "All things are alive at some level, Rorrick. The deeper you perceive the Forces of Life, the more of it you can experience. Rocks experience life at a vastly slower pace than most things do, while small creatures such as insects have a fleeting existence. The Great Forest's trees have experienced eons and have very profound thoughts when you can convince one to talk with you. The focus and the energy needed to work with the forces also use an incredible amount of your own life force. Which is a roundabout way of saying I am famished and must eat something. Would you care to join me in something to eat and drink?"

  Although he was not the slightest bit hungry, he did not want to let this beautiful and fascinating woman out of his sight, so he readily agreed. As she led him back to the large dining area he had passed before, he could not help but observe the way the silky kaftan clung to her body as she moved, accentuating and revealing then drifting away to mask and obscure. He realized there was nothing under that flowing garment except Arianna herself. The effect was electrifying.

  As they entered the dining area, they were greeted by Swiftstalker and Prince Brightblade. “Why am I not surprised that your son has managed to find the most beautiful woman inside the Veil?” Swiftstalker said.

  Prince Brightblade came over and clasped his arms around Rorrick. While this open display of affection surprised him, Rory was stunned to realize he was now the same height as his father but seemed larger because of the muscle mass of his shoulders, arms, and legs. “What have you been doing to him, Swiftstalker? He's huge!"

  "What can I say, oh great Prince. He just keeps growing! Arianna, you are as ravishing as ever."

  "And you are still a shameless flatterer, Swiftstalker. Will you never cease your relentless pursuit of every female whose path you cross and settle down for an age or two?” Arianna chided him.

  "Was that an offer?” Swiftstalker quipped. “An offer from you would certainly be worth considering."

  Arianna laughed. “The only offer you will ever get from me is for a swift kick where it would do you the most good!” She moved over to the banquet table and began selecting things to eat from the platters of vegetables and fruits. Rory recalled that those who dealt with the life force often forswore meat. While she selected her choices, Rory drew himself another of those wonderful ales. He followed her over to the table where his father and uncle were sitting.

  "Rory, Swiftstalker says you can see the Veil,” Brightblade said.

  "That is true. I see a kind of sparkle in the air. I was also able to see Elona while she was still within the tree."

  "What! I have never known anyone who could do that!” Swiftstalker said. “Are you sure she did not let you see her?"

  "She was quite surprised at the time, too. She made mention that no one had ever done it before. I'm not sure how I did it. I just felt like someone was watching me and I just seemed to see her standing there."

  Arianna looked puzzled. “Is Elona the hamadryad who lives in your hiakehla? You actually saw a wood nymph while she was still in her tree?” At Rory's nod, she turned to Brightblade. “You must let me take him to the Heart. If he has this much power, it must be trained for his protection, as well as for the benefit of the Veil."

  Prince Brightblade turned to Rory. “You've been busy. Just after Swiftstalker met with me, we encountered Winterstar. He has requested that you put on a demonstration with your sword at the training arena. He suspects you may be of master class, even though he had not heard any of Swiftstalker's report. Now one of our leading mages wants to bring you into the Heart of the Veil, a place that less than one percent of our people can pass into through its defenses. And now I find you have done something even most of our mages cannot do, and that's detect a dryad.” He shook his head. “I knew you would be special but I never knew just how unique even among the Fair Folk. Tomorrow promises to be a very interesting day. Swiftstalker will bring you to the arena in the morning. Arianna and I will both bring you to the outer edge of the Heart in the afternoon. Going the res
t of the way in will be solely up to you."

  Chapter 11

  Rory woke as a shaft of light from the rising sun pierced the window and stabbed into his eyes. It seemed that wonderful ale with the hazelnut taste had the kick of a mule. It also seemed to coat the inside of his mouth with some kind of foul, sticky paste. Why in blazes did I drink so much? He just hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself. As he swung his legs out of bed and groaned as the pounding in his head increased, the door to his room crashed open.

  "Get out of bed!” Swiftstalker said. “Any man who drinks as much as you can should be ready to go by now. Come on. I know your head hurts because my own is killing me. A quick dip in the pools will either kill us or cure us."

  Rory slipped into his clothes and reluctantly followed his uncle to the pools. Mercifully, they were empty. Swiftstalker undressed and dove into the first pool. He swam in steady strokes across the water, keeping his head submerged. When he reached the other side, he climbed out and dove into the next pool to sit on one of the carved niches. “Go on, lad. I feel better already."

  Rory undressed and dove into the pool. In the last split second before he came into contact with the water, he realized there wasn't even the slightest wisp of steam anywhere around this particular pool. As he entered the water, he knew why. This pool was fed by an underground aquifer that carried extremely cold water just barely above the freezing point. Emulating his uncle, he swam the length of the pool underwater and then dove into the second pool, whose tepid waters now seemed scalding after the icy plunge.

  Before Rory could begin to complain, Swiftstalker asked, “How's your head now?"

  Rory realized his headache was gone. In fact, he felt pretty good. Perhaps he could face the challenge of the sword demonstration after all. “Much better, thanks. I'm not sure I can carry on a sword demonstration wearing the loose silks that seem to be the fashion here."

  "I agree. I've asked the pixies to make you up a set of fighting leathers for this morning. They are already over there on the bench, along with some footwear more familiar to you. Your sword and dagger are also there."

  Rory climbed out of the pool, dried himself off with one of the big towels, and then drew on the silky undergarment to protect his skin from chafing in the fighting leathers. As he slipped on the dark green leather shirt with its Westfell Wolf crest, he realized it was a sleeveless vest. He gave Swiftstalker a quizzical look.

  "The better to show off your muscles, my boy. In fact, when you fight, you may want to consider going without the vest all together. There's nothing like bare skin against a naked blade to sharpen one's focus. Not to mention the fact that your broad shoulders, big chest, and heavily muscled arms are unusual among our people. The women will love it."

  "Uncle, are women all you ever think about?” Rory laughed.

  "Absolutely not. I also think about food and drink!"

  Now dressed, Rory slipped the scabbard strap over his shoulder and settled the sword across his back. With his dagger once again on his belt, he felt fully dressed once more, realizing at last how much he had missed the weight of the dagger. He drew his sword with one swift motion and stepped through some of his moves to see whether the leathers bound in any way. Watching Rory, Swiftstalker quickly dried off and dressed in his more familiar leathers as well.

  "So will you be fighting, too?” Rory asked.

  "You could say that. I'm going to be one of your opponents, lad. I may have taught you everything you know about the sword, but that does not mean I taught you everything I know.” Swiftstalker settled his own sword across his back. “I still have a trick or two left to show you some humility."

  "Good! It's a poor day when you can't learn something new."

  * * * *

  The training arena was a large circular depression ringed with terraced seating. The stone benches were filled; many of the spectators had been drawn by their curiosity about their prince's son, while others had come to test their own skills against a new opponent. Rory was pleased to see Arianna there. She gave him a wink when she caught him looking at her.

  Swiftstalker said, “Here's how this is going to work. First, we will start with our own slow individual exercises to limber up our muscles. Since we are using naked blades, we will be on opposite sides of the arena to prevent any accidents. Once we are sufficiently warmed up, you and I will spar a bit, slowly building up the speed of our blades. Should either of us draw blood from the other, the match ends immediately and whoever drew it loses because it shows a lack of control over your sword."

  "Makes sense."

  "Once we conclude, you may be challenged by one or more of the others. Whether you accept or decline a match is up to you, as is the number you choose to face. Again, these are friendly matches with the goal of comparing skills without drawing blood.” Swiftstalker drew his sword and said, “See you in the center in a few minutes."

  Rory pulled his sword scabbard off and set it beside one of the benches out of the way. He started going through his moves, slowly at first but steadily increasing the speed of his thrusts and swings. He felt calm and focused; the crowd had receded to the back of his mind and all he was aware of was his blade. As he finished a particularly difficult move, he decided he was ready. He walked back over to his bench and took off the vest as suggested by his uncle. In the upcoming demonstration, the vest might have offered a minor hindrance to his moves and he knew better than to give Swiftstalker even the slightest advantage. He was so focused on what he was doing, he didn't hear the sighs that came from many of the women present when he removed his vest.

  Rory stepped to the center of the ring and waited for his uncle, his sword loose in his hand. Swiftstalker came into the center and stopped about eight feet from Rory. They gave each other a slight bow, their stares never leaving the other for even the slightest moment. As they came up from the bow, Swiftstalker sprang at Rory, his sword slicing through the air.

  Rory felt the now familiar sense of time expanding. Effortlessly, his sword parried his uncle's move. So much for slow. They exchanged a rapid series of moves. Even with the expanded time sense, the moves were quicker than normal.

  After a few moments, Swiftstalker sprang his surprise. In the blink of an eye, he drew his dagger and began to fight with both blades. Rory's own dagger seemed to just appear in his hand as he met Swiftstalker's. To the spectators, their moves were a blur and the sound of blade meeting blade was almost continuous. At several points, the crowd applauded particularly deft moves but Rory's focus was so intense he never heard them.

  Their sparring had lasted almost a quarter of an hour when Swiftstalker stepped back from the ring to exchange his dagger for a second sword. Winterstar tossed a second sword to Rory. While Rory had never fought with two swords before, the flow of the blades seemed to come naturally. At first, Swiftstalker pressed him but before long, Rory was backing Swiftstalker across the ring, their blades in a constant blur of motion. As Swiftstalker's foot crossed the boundary of the fighting circle, Rory's hands fell to his sides, the swords hanging loosely in his grip.

  Swiftstalker bowed deeply to Rory, conceding the match, and then clasped forearms in congratulations for a match well fought. “That was wonderful, Rory. I thought I had you for a while when we started with two swords but you soon adapted to that with no trouble."

  "It seemed awkward at first but I found I enjoyed it. I may start carrying two blades if I can ever find another one as good as Wolf Fang.” Rory wiped down the blade of the sword his father had given him.

  "Now comes the real question. Are any of these others brave enough to go against you with a blade in challenge?"

  The majority of the warriors watching knew they were outclassed and declined to challenge, although a few wondered whether Rory would be interested in showing them some of his moves in slow motion since most could not follow them at the speed Rory had executed them. One very young warrior boasted he could beat Rory if he wanted to, but quickly backed down when Winterstar pushed hi
m into the ring in front of Rory. Rory looked at the terrified warrior and said, “Remember that on any day against any warrior, anything can happen. The sun might flash off a blade and blind you for a critical second. Your foot might slip in wet or soft ground. Your scabbard strap might break and the scabbard might tangle your feet. Or an opponent might come at you with two swords rather than one, as Swiftstalker did to me today. You must be ready for anything and expect your opponent to take advantage of even the smallest of openings."

  Winterstar said, “That's good advice for us all to remember,” and the other warriors nodded in agreement.

  Since there would be no challenges, Rory agreed to observe and critique some of the other matches. He first intended to put his vest back on after wiping away the sweat from his chest and neck caused by his exertions in the circle. A delicate hand took the towel from him.

  Arianna said, “Let me dry your back.” She stepped behind him and toweled away the sweat. “I have never seen anyone move that fast before. I was sure one or the other of you would misjudge and someone would be hurt."

  Swiftstalker said, “We weren't even fighting at full speed, Arianna. I have seen Rory fight much faster against a real opponent."

  "Really?” she said, “I would hate to cross blades with him."

  Watching the matches showed Rory just how unusual his talent was. He knew Swiftstalker also experienced the time effect when he fought and had believed it was something all elven warriors used, but watching some of them fight made him realize that few did. Of the others, only Winterstar and one other seemed to achieve it. Still, all of the warriors would be able to easily defeat most humans.

  "Winterstar, perhaps you could explain why there are so many elven warriors. I know you do not fight humans, at least along the Westfell borders because word would have reached the keep had the pact been broken by either side."

  "It is true that we do not fight humans in Westfell, but we do have the occasional raid from the Outlanders across the Greater Tyree River,” Winterstar replied. “Not all our enemies are human, however. Raids from fell creatures have happened in the past and so we prepare should they come again."