The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1]

by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

  As they rode out, Rory found himself riding beside Arianna. “You were right."

  "About what?"

  "That I would know the correct name for the new sword when the time came. It shall be known as Dark Foe."

  Chapter 14

  Rory sat back in the steaming pool, soaking away the tension from his shoulders and back. If only the hot water would ease the tension in his mind and soul as well. Since returning from Kendrahl, he had been troubled by the thought that he might have done something that would have saved the twenty-eight who had died. Rationally, he knew he had not been in charge of the expedition, nor had he planned the battle. Yet he felt somehow, he should have used his many gifts to have saved those who perished. That survivor guilt fueled his search for the mysterious source of the incursion. Who was behind it? Who stood to gain by letting monsters loose in Kendrahl?

  Arianna swam over to where Rory sat brooding. She reached a slender hand down and pinched his thigh. “Stop that! We have been over this time and again. Rory, you are not yet eighteen years old and you have already had the experiences of men three times your age. You have fought in furious battles to protect innocents and prevailed. You have also learned the hardest lesson of them all: Good people die, too. Sometimes they die for no reason or through a senseless act of violence like your mother did. And others die in a war against evil. The warriors who died were there because, like you, they knew it was where they belonged. We all knew the risks we faced when we set out but we understood the reasons to go were stronger and more important than a fear of death. Elven warriors are all volunteers, Rory, not conscripts like in many human armies. We do this because we know in our hearts it is necessary for good to prevail. Just as you knew the life of that single child was worth giving the ogres advance warning and that it might mean the death of a warrior, we know it is better to give our lives to stop what is wrong than to hide away in safety while evil destroys what is good."

  Rory smiled a sad little smile. “I know you are right, Arianna. I feel it in here...” He touched his head. His hand moved to his chest. “But in here, I feel that there must have been more I could have done."

  Arianna shook her head. “I don't believe you. More you could have done? Did you know you killed two ogres all by yourself? Of course you do, because you did so calmly with a bow. How many orcs did you kill, Rory? You have no idea because that was in the heat of battle. Well, I know how many you killed because I counted each and every one of them. I was there by your side throughout that battle, following you with my mind because I care very much about you. You killed sixty-eight orcs with your two swords and dagger. You alone killed ten percent of all the orcs slain that day. You saved the lives of many warriors by killing their opponents seconds before the orc would have slain the elf, including your father, our prince. So stop this senseless brooding! It is in the past and nothing you can do now will bring those fallen warriors back. You need to focus on the present and the future."

  "I need to find out who was behind it!” Rory said.

  "That is for the future, Rory. Right now, you need to make love to me as a reaffirmation of life itself!” Arianna pressed her body to his and his depression melted away.

  * * * *

  King Alaric turned to Prince Brightblade. “You know it is almost time for him to go back to Westfell."

  Brightblade nodded. “Yes, I know."

  "Will he be ready to go? Can he get past this brooding he has done since Kendrahl?” King Alaric asked. “The duke will be very displeased with his present frame of mind."

  "Father, please don't worry about it. Right now, Arianna is working her magic on him, and you know no one can resist her. She can alter anyone's perceptions. I envy my son, you know. I have always harbored a secret passion for her."

  Alaric chuckled. “Not so secret. She knows exactly how you feel about her but she told me the time was not yet right for the two of you. She says there will come a time when you will need her as much as Rory does now. When that time comes, she will be at your side forever."

  * * * *

  The mages of the Heart kept a careful watch over the realm of Aluria, but there were some areas they could not penetrate. The ley lines that stretched into Eastfell and Solange were somehow blocked off and nothing they did could penetrate beyond. Rory was very suspicious of Eastfell, and these blockages of the naturally flowing energy of life indicated that evil was rampant inside these duchies. Since he could not discern what was going on from the Heart, he knew he would have to find out the old-fashioned way; by going there and seeing with his own eyes.

  Arianna had been successful in altering his point of view. The depression was gone, replaced by an eagerness to be outside once again. Spring Court would be his door to the lands of Eastfell and Solange. The training he had been given in the Veil would help him immeasurably outside. He no longer feared ambush or poison; his vigilance over the life force continued even when he slept. Should an assassin get close enough, his mithrail shirt would stop any blade from reaching his skin.

  He looked down at the naked woman sleeping in his arms. Arianna had taught him more than simply what went on between a man and a woman. She had given him a sense of self-confidence that would carry him through almost every situation. A few months ago, he'd been terrified of being caught in one of the spa pools; last night, they had joined a crowd at one of the most popular pools. He found himself joking with many other naked women without a care that none of them were clothed. How could Spring Court hold any terror for him now? He hugged her tighter and felt her stir against his side. He would miss Arianna terribly but it was time for him to return outside.

  Part Three

  ALURIA

  Chapter 15

  After Rory dismounted from his horse, he gripped the hand of General Gustav and realized he was looking at the man eye to eye. He was now as tall as the grizzled veteran. “It is good to see you again, General."

  "And to see you as well, lad. Duke Armand passed this way a few days ago and told Duke Richard about your adventures in Kendrahl. I have never seen your grandfather so proud and yet so worried in all my life. Go up, now, and give him a hug so he will know you are all right.” General Gustav gave Rory a gentle push up the stairs.

  Rory bounded up the steps and seized his grandfather in an embrace. When had the older man become so frail? “Grandfather, it is wonderful to see you again."

  "What have they done to you, boy? If you hadn't been wearing Westfell colors, I wouldn't have recognized you. You're as tall as a tree and as hard as stone!” Spotting the glint at Rory's throat, he whispered, “Is that mithrail? A shirt your size must be worth a fortune!"

  "Just a gift from my father before the Kendrahl adventure, Your Grace,” Rory said. “Have you been well? You must tell me all the news."

  * * * *

  Duke Richard and Rory went into the keep. Swiftstalker slid from his horse and turned it over to one of the grooms. “Give them some extra oats today. They've earned it.” Turning to Gustav, he said, “We rode from the Great Forest in two days. I am getting too old for this kind of thing."

  The general laughed. “I agree that riding long distances is for the young. Come with me and let's see whether some ale will take the stiffness from your joints while you tell me all about Kendrahl."

  Swiftstalker turned very serious as he said, “I'm not sure you have enough ale for that, but lead on. How's your new bride?"

  "Pregnant, of course. I understand I have you to thank for that."

  "I never touched the girl, Gustav!"

  "Not that, you old fool. I mean that she's my bride.” Gustav smiled fondly at the elven warrior. “Duke Richard told me it was your idea that we be wed. I have lit a candle in your honor every night since."

  "I never knew you were religious, Gustav."

  "Religious, me? Hah! I will leave to your imagination how beautiful Rachel looks by candlelight."

  * * * *

  "You've changed, Rory, and I don't just mean physicall
y,” Duke Richard said. “You are much more assured."

  Rory looked at the fire. “I have learned much this past winter, Grandfather. Some of what I have seen and done has been at great cost."

  "Armand came by on his way to court, so I know about the campaign against the ogres and orcs. Would you like to talk about it?"

  Rory's voice was flat and toneless as he said, “There is not much to talk about. We discovered a party of ogres and orcs were raiding in the Kendrahl Mountains and we went to stop them. In order to save a child, I attacked the ogres before the rest of the war party was ready but it didn't matter in the end. We killed them all without losing anyone and saved the remaining villagers. A few days later, we encountered a large party of orcs and fought them for many hours. We killed them all but lost many warriors. We did not discover who was behind the raids, although we are continuing to search for that information."

  Duke Richard knew more than he let on. After Duke Armand had left for court, Richard had another visitor. Prince Brightblade had come in to the library late that same night and had given Richard the details so he would be able to watch Rory for any return of the depression that had haunted him for weeks afterwards. Rory had slain two ogres alone and another working with Swiftstalker. Then he had killed sixty-eight orcs single-handedly in bloody direct conflict. After the battle, he had created a monument to the dead using some kind of magic.

  "There's more to your change than just being in a battle, Rory.” Duke Richard looked at him. “Who was she?"

  A smile touched Rory's lips briefly. “Arianna, one of their greatest mages and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

  "I am happy for you, lad. Treasure her memory but do not measure Lady Bethany against the standard your Arianna has set. It would not be fair to Bethany, for how could she compete against the most beautiful woman and a mage?"

  "What Arianna and I shared had its place, Grandfather, but that is in the past. Lady Bethany will have her place in my future. Each shall be treasured in their own way."

  "Did I see two swords on your back when you rode up?"

  "Yes, I have found fighting with two swords to be much more effective than just one, especially against multiple foes.” Rory shrugged. “I had not considered it before my uncle used two swords against me in the training arena."

  "Your uncle?'

  "Lord Swiftstalker is Prince Brightblade's brother. They share the same mother. After our demonstration, none of the other elven warriors would challenge me. Instead, they had been tasked to ambush me at random times and places. It became a game for them until I came close to killing one on the way to see King Alaric about the ogres."

  "Were any of their attempts successful?"

  Rory shook his head. “No, none were. Grandfather, I have some other abilities that are not visible. I can use the Force of Life that surrounds us to detect threats before they come close. That was how I found the ogres in Kendrahl; I sensed their evil nature. Using the same sense, I can detect poisons in food or drink, and even change it into something harmless so I can partake of the tainted item and confuse those who meant me harm. As Arianna would say, ‘Confusion to the enemy.’”

  "Now that is what I would call a useful set of talents. It would be best, I think, if you were to keep those a secret from all except those you trust the most."

  "I agree. Only you and my uncle know of it outside the Veil,” Rory said quietly. “You are both my family and if I cannot trust you, there is no one who can be trusted. I also plan on following the elven tradition of wearing mithrail everywhere outside the Veil. One never knows when they can be betrayed or surprised."

  * * * *

  "I had never seen anything like it, Gustav. He was a fighting machine with swords that moved in a steady blur. Blood and pieces of orc flew everywhere. At one point, he threw his dagger a distance of over one hundred feet to punch through the skull of an orc before it could stab the prince in the back. He then resumed fighting the orcs around him until he moved to stand beside the prince. I was told later that Rory killed sixty-eight orcs by himself, over a tenth of their total losses,” Swiftstalker said. “I will never, ever cross blades with him again. He has such control that he pushes me to my own limits and a bit beyond. I fear I would be shamed by drawing his blood by accident."

  General Gustav drank the rest of his ale. “I could see it in his eyes. He is a man who has met and defeated death on so many levels that it no longer holds any terror for him. He will be a formidable duke some day."

  Swiftstalker drained his goblet. “My friend, you do not know the half of it. I must know whether you have a problem with Rory because of Winter Festival."

  "Because he kissed Rachel? Don't be stupid! Any man would have done the same and the callow boy he was then stood no chance in resisting her. She told me all about her plan that night, including her considering taking advantage of him after he'd been hit on the head.” Gustav laughed. “She kept nothing back when I started courting her, hoping to make me mad enough to back off. All she did was show me how strong and determined she could be, and that made me know she was the perfect woman for me. Oh, we have our spats now and then, but that just adds spice to the loving after we make up again.” He drank deeply from his refilled mug. “I think I owe the lad a debt."

  * * * *

  As Rory soaked in the copper tub, he knew he would miss the spa pools of the Veil the most. “Assistance, please."

  A pixie appeared. “How may I be of service, Lord Rorrick?"

  "Would you happen to know whether there is a natural spring anywhere near the keep?"

  "I believe there is one deep under the keep. May I ask why?"

  "I was wondering whether we could build one of the spa pools similar to those in the Veil."

  "What a wonderful idea! There is an old chamber deep under the keep that could be used. Would you like us to begin work on this project?” The pixie was excited.

  "Yes, but keep it quiet, especially from Lord Swiftstalker. I want it to be a surprise. Try to have it done by the time we return from Spring Court in Aluria."

  Chapter 16

  "Uncle, you and I are going to start a new fashion trend today at court,” Rory announced the morning after they arrived in Aluria. “I had a long chat with the house pixies who accompanied us."

  "Really, and what did you decide we will be wearing?"

  "I will not wear those confining hose and tunic combinations any longer. They are uncomfortable. Yet I do not believe the court is quite ready for the hedonistic pleasure of the Veil's silks. What I propose is a compromise between the two. I have asked the pixies to take the design of the silk trousers and make them from something more substantial for the sake of propriety. We shall retain the silk shirts and sash belts."

  "I think that is a marvelous idea, nephew. You will never know how much I hated those damn tights.” He opened the wardrobe and removed one of the new outfits. After examining the trousers, he said, “This is going to set them all on their rears, Rory! Even the king will want to wear these because they are practical and not constricting."

  They quickly changed. The new trousers fit them perfectly and were cinched at the waist with a corded belt. Their silk shirts, trimmed in their house colors and bearing the Westfell motif of the snarling wolf in silver thread, went next and covered the mithrail they each wore next to their skin. A color coordinated silk sash held their daggers, the only acceptable weapons at court. Rory debated using a glamour to conceal his swords but decided to trust his dagger, mithrail, and senses to protect himself and his grandfather. Slipping his feet into his half-boots, he drew his thick black hair into the silver clasp Arianna had given him his final morning inside the Veil.

  When Duke Richard walked in to their suite, he stopped. “What are you wearing? And more importantly, where can I get some to fit me?"

  Rory laughed. “Somehow I knew you would say that, Grandfather. I had a set made for you as well.” He opened the trunk near the wardrobe and removed a set of the ne
w clothes scaled to fit the old duke. Swiftstalker served as valet, helping the duke exchange his hose and doublet for the trousers and silk shirt.

  "Ah, this is so comfortable! Why have we never worn these before?” Richard mumbled. “I have seen these silks worn by the Forest Folk and admired them. It just never occurred to me that we could make something similar out of our fabrics.” Taking a last glance in the looking glass, he said, “Let's go stun the court."

  * * * *

  "Richard, Duke of Westfell, and Rorrick, his heir. Accompanied by Lord Swiftstalker of the Forest.” The crier's voice carried across the room, stilling all conversations. The crowd of courtiers and other guests of the court turned casually to see the new arrivals.

  Duke Richard strode down the center of the aisle toward the pair of thrones, with Rory one step behind on the right and Swiftstalker behind Rory on the duke's left. Richard's stare never left his king as he approached, watching the king's reaction to their new style of dress.

  Reaching the dais, Duke Richard went to one knee as did Rory and Swiftstalker. “Westfell asks leave to join the Spring Court if it pleases Your Majesty."

  "Your arrival has been the most anticipated event of the court, Duke Westfell,” the king said loudly. “Since the Duke of Kendrahl reported the events in which your heir played no small part, the court could speak of nothing else. Now, however, they will have something new to gossip about. What are you wearing?"

  Duke Richard rose to his feet and said, “Do you like them? They are so much more comfortable than hose and ever more practical."

  The king glanced at Rory. “Can this possibly be your heir? We had thought Duke Kendrahl had exaggerated in his descriptions of the young giant who slew an ogre and fifty orcs by himself. It must be him, for there is his ever-present shadow, Lord Swiftstalker."