The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1]

by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

  * * * *

  General Gustav and King William stood atop the battlements of the castle where they had watched the end of the siege unfold. They had joined in the cheering as the nomad warriors charged the army of Eastfell conscripts and fell creatures, then watched in admiration as the nomads had slaughtered their enemy.

  "Amazing fighters,” KingWilliam said as they watched the commander of the King's Own meeting with the naib of the caliph's warriors below on the battle-scarred plain.

  "Yes, they are. I know I would hate to fight them. Do you feel this was just too easy? Their army has been stopped at Westfell, Kendrahl, and now here in Aluria, yet we have not seen that demon. Where is it and what is it doing?"

  Chapter 39

  The first alarm went out when the Veil was torn asunder and a host of goblins and the demon entered the protected area of the forest. Almost all of the elven rangers had been sent to augment the Wolves of Westfell along the border with Eastfell. What few remained were no match for the goblin forces. Forest Lords were torn to pieces by the creatures of the Dark. As the great trees themselves were ripped from the ground, the hamadryads tried to fight but the demon scooped them up and devoured their life force. The pixies and the sprites fled.

  The demon tore at the Veil of the Heart as if it were a living thing of flesh and blood. Great holes were gouged out of the Veil, thinning its strength until the demon finally burst inside. It stomped over to the Heart itself and grasped the sphere in its mighty talons. The mages used every bit of energy they could draw from the ley lines to attack the demon, but it was to no avail. The huge creature picked up the stone and slowly ground it to powder in its hands. When the stone was destroyed, the Forest Lords no longer had anything to focus and direct the life force around them. Defenseless now, the mages were quickly consumed by the demon.

  The goblins struck down every Forest Lord they encountered. Winterstar put up a gallant fight to defend King Brightblade, but they were both overwhelmed. As the king fell, a piercing scream rent the air as Bethany witnessed it.

  Two goblins immediately gave chase and quickly captured her. They dragged her before the demon whose blazing eyes of fire burned brighter as it recognized the target they came to find. It tore open a dimensional doorway back to Eastfell and they stepped through, taking Bethany with them, Her screams were cut off by the closing of the doorway.

  * * * *

  A terrified sprite appeared before Rory and Arianna deep within the mines of the Guild. It took them several minutes to calm the shaking creature enough so it could speak and its message was something neither expected. “The Veil of the Forest is no more. The Heart has been destroyed and all within the Veil have been killed. The demon and goblins came and destroyed everything."

  Rory desperately reached out to the ley lines and followed them back to the Veil. It was as the sprite described; the Veil was gone; the great trees felled and shattered, and the Heart itself no more. There were dead and wounded Forest Lords everywhere. And though he searched everywhere, he could not find Bethany nor any trace of her mithrail pendant. There was only one place in the world where he could not trace that pendant. Bethany was in Eastfell.

  Arianna had likewise traveled the ley lines, seeking the condition of the mages and the king. Most of the mages were dead, yet the king still lived.

  "Rory, your father is still alive although he is grievously wounded. We must get back there quickly but I don't know how. The passes are now all buried under heavy snow, made heavier by the interference from the mages with the weather in Aluria. It will take us weeks to fight our way back to the forest, and the wounded don't have that long."

  "Bethany has been taken to Eastfell, Arianna. I have to rescue her but to do that, I will have to face the demon and the suit and lance aren't ready! It will take another week before they are. What will become of Bethany in that time?"

  * * * *

  Barwin snuck away from the two Forest Lords and raced to the Guild Hall. He bowed before the board and the Guildmaster said, “What do ye want, Barwin?"

  "Guildmaster, the Veil has been attacked and virtually destroyed. There be wounded in need of immediate help."

  "What be that ta the Guild? Let Westfell help ‘em."

  "Westfell still fights the war, Guildmaster. There be none but the Guild who can help the Forest Lords now."

  "What profit would there be for us ta help ‘em? Arrogant people, all of ‘em. Think they be better than all o’ us because they be elves. Let ‘em take care o’ themselves."

  "How can ye be so short-sighted?” Anger flared up inside the elderly dwarf. “Ye know the ancient texts of the Guild. Should the elves leave this world, magic itself will be disappearin'. If we can no longer penetrate stone, how will we survive? If the fey be no more, how much longer do ye think the Guild or even our very species exist?"

  The board members were stunned. Truly, most of them had never bothered to study the ancient texts because they believed the past was simply that: the past. What possible bearing could it have on the present or the future? Yet, events of the past had already returned to affect them. Had not demons come back? Were they not fashioning a lance to be carried once more on the back of Blue Death, who lived under them all this time? Could the old dwarf be right after all?

  "What would ye have us do, Master Barwin?” asked the Guildmaster, bestowing the honorific for the first time since Barwin had been ousted from the board.

  "We must be openin’ the lower tunnel ta the Great Forest ta permit Queen Arianna and Prince Rorrick ta git back ta their land. We must aid the injured and we must help them rebuild."

  "And the suit and lance?"

  "Work must be sped up. If the demon can tear open the Veil and shatter the Heart, what protection be there for us inside this mountain? Unless Prince Rorrick succeeds in destroyin’ the demon, we'll all be lost."

  "It shall be done. Gather whoever can aid the wounded and what free labor ye can find and head for the lower tunnel. Leave the skilled craftsmen here ta finish the suit and the lance.” The Guildmaster looked steadily at the old dwarf. “When this be over and the demon destroyed, this board demands one thing from yerself. We demand ye return as Guildmaster once again."

  * * * *

  Barwin approached Queen Arianna. “Your Majesty, ‘tis agonizin’ ye be over reachin’ the Veil in time ta help yer people. We have a way of doin’ so that be much quicker, although it be all underground. The Guild offers their help in rescuin’ the wounded and in rebuildin’ the Veil."

  Turning to Rory, he said, “Work on the suit and lance will not be stoppin'. If anythin', ‘twill be done the faster. The attack on the Veil convinced the Guild they can no longer be sittin’ back and waitin’ ta see what happens. They agree the most important thing now is ta save the Veil and destroy the demon."

  Rory was torn by his duty to rescue the wounded at the Veil and his love for Bethany. He knew he could not save her yet, and the thought of what she might be enduring was a sword thrust in his heart. He heaved a deep sigh and said, “Lead on, Barwin. At least in the Veil, I will feel like I am accomplishing something."

  * * * *

  It took five days of following dark, twisting tunnels before they reached their destination. As they had traveled, Rory asked Barwin about the genesis of the tunnel.

  "We dug this here tunnel followin’ a vein of mithrail. As the vein twisted, so did the tunnel. Finally, the vein be endin'. We dug a little farther and found ourselves far from the mountains. We hid the entrance and use it on those rare occasions when we be forced to travel to the Veil, like for yer coronation.” Seeing the surprised look on Rory's face, he added, “Aye, I be there. I watched as ye and yer wife were elevated to the ranks ye now hold. I be not surprised ye don't remember me as the glade were quite crowded and we be easily overlooked."

  When they reached the end of the tunnel, Barwin reached inside the rock wall blocking the entrance and released the locking mechanism. Completely balanced with the usual efficiency
the dwarves of the Guild were known for, the door opened with a slight push from the elderly dwarf.

  "I know this spot!” Arianna exclaimed. “We are close to the Tower of the Pact. Rory, we can be at the Veil in just a few hours."

  Rory and Arianna quickly went ahead of the dwarven relief column. By the time they reached the entrance to the Veil, the scope of the destruction was all too clear. Many of the larger trees had been uprooted and were lying on the ground. The carefully tended hedges and flowering plants had all been smashed or trampled. The statuary was also toppled and smashed, as were the nearby benches used for contemplation. The least wounded had dragged themselves to those more badly injured and were tending to them as best they could. Surprisingly, King Brightblade was sitting propped up against a tree, carefully mopping the brow of the unconscious Winterstar.

  "How fare you, my husband?” Arianna softly asked.

  King Brightblade looked up, an expression of incredulous joy suffused his face at the sight of his wife and queen. “I've been better, but I cannot recall a time when you ever looked as beautiful as you do right now."

  She knelt beside the king and placed a hand against his face, staring deeply into his eyes. “Help is here. Barwin is leading a relief mission from the Guild to succor the injured and to help us rebuild. They were behind us by about an hour."

  The king replied weakly, “I always said Barwin was a good man, for a dwarf, that is. How did you get here so fast?"

  "I wish it could have been faster. I despaired of reaching you for another two or three weeks because of the very heavy snowfalls in the passes, but the Guild has an old tunnel that comes out near the Tower of the Pact."

  "We have been aware of it for quite some time, but felt it did no harm to let them think it was still secret.” King Brightblade looked at her with feverish eyes. “You must do something for Winterstar. He has not regained consciousness since he was struck by a goblin's axe when they attacked us. He fell defending me, Arianna, not that it mattered in the end."

  Arianna bent her attention to the fallen elven ranger. She knew he had refused to leave the Veil completely defenseless and so had stayed behind when the other rangers had gone to Westfell. She opened her senses and gathered the energy from one of the nearest ley lines, then focused her awareness on the fallen ranger. He had taken a bad blow to the head, albeit a glancing one. The axe had struck at an angle, ripping away a flap of scalp and part of Winterstar's prized hair. Underneath the skull, however, lay a massive blood clot applying pressure to the brain. She used the energy she had gathered to seal off the ruptured blood vessels and tried to drain away some of the excess fluid, but there was only so much she could do. It was in the hands of the All-Father now.

  Arianna sat back and gazed up at her husband, preparing to tell him the status of his old friend and bodyguard, and realized Brightblade had lost consciousness. She quickly focused her attention on him and realized with horror that he had concealed the extent of his own injuries. His left arm had been crushed and was beyond repair. From the nature and extent of the damage, it looked like a goblin warhammer had slammed into him, catching the arm squarely. Several ribs behind that arm were also broken, and one had punctured the king's lung, collapsing it. He had lost a great deal of blood and infection was setting in along the shattered arm.

  "Rory, I need your help if we are to save your father. First, we must carefully move Winterstar off his lap so we can lay your father out where we can work on him. Would you please move Winterstar while I hold your father still?"

  Rory shifted the unconscious ranger to one side, making the elder comfortable with his own shirt as a pillow for the fallen elf's battered head. He turned back to Arianna to help her stretch his father out.

  "Rory, his arm is crushed and infection is starting to take hold. We will have to remove it at the shoulder, which is the hardest amputation to do. Your sword Wolf Fang will do the job quickly and cleanly. I have already closed off the blood vessels and nerves, so he won't feel it. There will be some superficial bleeding but I will deal with that once the arm is out of the way. Underneath that arm are some shattered ribs. We will need to slowly set them back in place and use the life force to speed the setting of the bones and to heal the puncture in his lung. Then we must deal with the infection and his overall weakened condition by pumping as much energy as we can into him.” She looked up at Rory. “Can you do this? Can you take your father's arm in order to save his life?"

  Rory knew he had the skill with his sword to do as she asked, and he nodded his agreement. She slowly extended the wreckage that had once been an arm, holding it at the proper angle for his sword cut. He brought the sword over his head, focused intently on the exact line the sword must cleave, and then swung swiftly and accurately. Arianna fell back as the sword separated the arm from Brightblade's torso, the arm still in her grasp. She let go of the resected flesh and focused her energy on sealing the open wound. New skin covered the spot of the amputation, bright pink in the pale light of the forest.

  Rory linked hands with her and together, they carefully guided the broken ribs back into alignment, fusing the fragments into a partially healed whole. Arianna carefully mended the jagged hole ripped through the pleural lining and the lung itself, draining away the blood and other fluids that had collected. Rory concentrated on reinflating the lung, slowly drawing the lung to its normal shape while removing the air that had entered the pleural cavity. Soon, the lung was functioning in tandem with the other one. Finally, they attacked the infection while allowing their own energy along with that from the ley lines to fill the depleted reservoirs of the king.

  Rory sat back and realized Barwin was sitting beside him. The dwarf had already dressed and bandaged Winterstar's scalp wound, and now held out two steaming mugs of stew. “Eat this. You both be as grey as a foggy morn. ‘Twill do no one any good if ye collapse. Eat and rest. Guild doctors be attendin’ ta the others."

  As they sat back against the shattered trunk of a tree, Barwin said, “The king be lookin’ better. Fact be, he's more color than ye two do. Shame about his arm, but better an arm than his life."

  Rory sighed. “I wish I had some ale right now. Swiftstalker always claimed it would give energy to a corpse."

  A slim pale brown arm extended a frosty tankard over Rory's shoulder as a sultry voice said, “My pleasure, Rory."

  "Elona! You're all right,” Rory said, astonished.

  "Several hamadryads were slain, but most of us survived. I'm sorry we couldn't stop them from taking Princess Bethany. Although her capture is probably what saved the king and many others from death. Once they had her, they left."

  Rory buried his face in his hands. “My poor Bethany. She never bargained on this when she chose to marry me."

  "No. None of us ever thought the Dark would attack the Veil, Rory. We all felt it was the safest place for her to be, and we were wrong. What's past is in the past and nothing can change it. All we can do now is rebuild the Veil and continue the fight against the Dark. It will be up to you and Blue Death to destroy the demon once the suit and lance are ready,” Arianna said. “We will all be changed by this war, some of us profoundly. We've lost homes, friends like Duke Armand and Earl Sudcliffe, and our complacency. As long as the dark sorcerers live and the rift between the planes exist, this nightmare will go on."

  Barwin came back up to them and said, “Queen Arianna, I be surveyin’ the damage. Most be superficial and easily repaired. Plants can be regrown, new statues and benches can be made. The biggest loss, aside from those who died, was the destruction o’ the Heart itself. I ha’ sent a message back ta the Guild to prepare a new stone ta be keyed ta the pathways o’ the forces o’ life. ‘Twill be delivered here in five days, along with the suit and the lance. In the meantime, we shall begin clearin’ away the damage and plantin’ the new paths.” He bowed and walked away before they could respond.

  "A new Heart!” Arianna whispered.

  "In five days the suit and the lance will be her
e and I can go find Bethany!"

  Chapter 40

  Once the siege at Aluria had been broken, the combined armies of Aluria, Westfell, Kendrahl, and the caliph's warriors from Solange began to advance against the forces of the Dark in Eastfell itself. As they pressed deeper into Eastfell, they began to tighten the wall of steel that enclosed the dark forces. Each day, the command structure of the consolidated army wondered whether this would be the one in which they faced the demon. However, so far the worst they had to face had been the conscripts and their orc handlers. Even the goblins had been withdrawn.

  As they reached the midpoint between the border and Eastfell Keep, they encountered a massed formation of conscripts. The orcs behind them were wielding whips and spears to force the troops to charge the oncoming consolidated army. With a great roar, the conscripts surged forward, outdistancing their fell wardens. Just before the two armies clashed, however, the conscripts threw down their weapons and openly begged the consolidated army to save them from the orcs and Eastfell. Outraged and hopelessly outnumbered, the orcs fled while the former conscripts fell to their knees amid the forces of Aluria and Westfell, openly weeping in piteous gratitude.

  They were starving and weak; the majority had not seen, much less eaten, decent food in months. Disobedience meant to die painfully and some had lost hope so badly they had openly courted a quick death by defying their overseers. Unfortunately, the death they earned was not quick and was often accomplished by being devoured slowly by the goblins. When they saw the massed armies of the realm advancing toward them, and the orcs had begun to force them to advance, they knew they had only one chance to survive or perhaps be granted a quick, clean death. Without a word passing among them, they just abandoned their weapons and hoped in the mercy of the man who had been their king.

  A detachment of the King's Own was left with the former conscripts, more to assist than guard them. On instructions from the king, the poor ragged men were led to Westfell, along with a letter to the duke requesting Duke Richard render whatever aid was necessary to restore the men's pride and dignity.