The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1]

by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

  Even from high above the plains, Rory had caught sight of the running woman. Her long copper hair told him it was Bethany. When she reached the king, he knew she would be safe and he could focus on his task: killing the demon. Blue Death dove down at the demon and Rory braced the lance, aiming for the center of its chest. At the last moment, the demon shifted aside, trying to swat the dragon from the sky. The dragon spun, pulling its wings close to its body as it ducked under the demon's outstretched arms. The dragon's serpentine tail wrapped around the demon's lower legs and jerked it from its feet. It fell, but the demon lashed out with its own tail, scoring a bloody furrow along Blue Death's side.

  Blue Death snapped its wings open and clawed for the air once more. As it passed the tower, Rory said, “Can you set fire to that?"

  The dragon responded with, 'I can set fire to anything of this world, rider.' She loosed a blast of flame at the base of the tower. Fueled both by the burning liquid that made up her breath and the layers of blood that coated the stones of the tower, flames raced up its length. Spotting the gaping hole in the side, Blue Death sent another blast of fire into it, turning the tower into a blazing chimney. Nothing would escape that tower alive.

  The demon's roar and another thrown rock reminded them both of their primary target. Blue Death said, 'This is the time, rider. I will fly straight at the demon and will not veer. You must plunge the lance through him and then jump free just before we collide. You will only have seconds to do this or you will still be on my back when I fight this fell beast.''

  Rory braced himself, letting his battle senses take control to slow time. His entire focus was on the tip of the lance and the center of the demon's chest. The fell creature seemed to sense this attack would be different and it tried to escape by opening a rent between dimensions. Blue Death increased her speed and even as the demon started to step into the rent, Rory guided the mithrail shaft exactly into the center of its chest. So great was the force with which they collided that the lance pierced through the demon's chest and spine, emerging coated in slime. As the fell creature toppled backward with the weight of the dragon, the lance was forced into the bedrock of the plain of Eastfell.

  The demon and the dragon tore at one another with their fangs, claws, and tails. Rory had been unable to free himself, and he was tossed around as if he had been swept up inside a tornado. Great rips appeared in Blue Death's wings as the demon savaged them. Blue Death was tearing at the fell creature's belly with her massive rear claws, dragging out the beast's intestines which hissed and boiled in the sunlight. The demon pushed the dragon back and then slammed her forward in a massive embrace. This pushed the embedded lance through the dragon's chest, the shield tearing a gaping wound in Blue Death's body as it was forced through. The corrosive acids inside her spilled down upon the torn belly of the demon, eating away at its innermost flesh. It also dissolved the mithrail band that held the saddle in place, and the next convulsive struggle between the two beings from other planes threw the saddle and Rory into the air to crash to the ground a distance away, shattering Rory's left leg and arm. As Rory struggled to free himself from the saddle, the lashing tail of the dragon slammed into the side of his head and everything went black.

  * * * *

  He awoke to the splash of hot tears upon his face. His head lay cradled in Bethany's lap as a team of elven battle mages worked on his injuries. “Stay still, Rory. You're badly injured."

  Rory's vision swam and for a moment her saw two of Bethany's head. He fought to quell the nausea; closing his eyes helped. “Blue Death?"

  King William said, “Both the dragon and the demon have died, Rory. Once they died, their corporeal bodies just slowly faded away. All that remains is a shaft of mithrail embedded in the rock. It wasn't until they were gone that we were able to reach you."

  "How badly am I hurt?"

  One of the battle mages said, “You have a broken leg, a broken arm, a couple of broken ribs, a hairline fracture of the skull, and a concussion. All in all, you're pretty lucky."

  "Why do you say that?” Bethany asked. “He's hurt so badly."

  "The last one to ride Blue Death died in the battle. No one knows where his bones lie since he was still in the saddle when she flew away."

  "Oh. Guess I am lucky, at that.” He tried to reopen his eyes and realized Bethany was wrapped in a cloak from one of the Wolves of Westfell. “What happened to your clothes, Beth?"

  "I was in no position to look for them so I ran without them. It wasn't until I reached the king that I even realized I was naked. General Gustav insisted I take his cape."

  "I'll bet a tankard of ale it was offered only after he took a long look!” Rory started to chuckle but stopped as the pain of his broken ribs lanced through his body. “Some hero I turned out to be. Aren't they supposed to come through unscathed to save the girl?"

  "Hush that nonsense. You earned these injuries since you saved the world instead.” Bethany stroked his head. “The girl managed to save herself thanks to a distraction from the shining rider of Blue Death."

  Epilogue

  The king's first priority was to make sure the threat had been eliminated. A few brave souls, including a pair of battle mages, had ventured into the tower. The stone structure had survived quite well, although everything flammable inside had been consumed by the blast of dragon fire. Reaching the uppermost rooms, they searched for evidence of the fate of the renegade duke and the dark sorcerers. In a chamber relatively untouched by the flames, they found the remains of Rikard, Duke of Eastfell. He had apparently fled into the sealed chamber ahead of the flames. The stout oak door had eventually succumbed to the heat and flame, but he had died before that happened, suffocated as the fire consumed all the oxygen. Bethany, as one of the last to have seen him alive, had to verify the identity of the remains since he had changed so much since the Spring Court. Seeing his face, drawn back in the rigor of a horrible death, she felt immense satisfaction. She later admitted she would have gladly thrust a knife through his heart herself so she could watch him die, but she settled for spitting in his face before the king guided her away.

  One of the battle mages treated her damaged hands and feet. He was most concerned about the long cut that slashed from below her breasts and across her distended belly and abdomen. The wound was cleaned several times with some very powerful solutions and ointments before the mage was satisfied. As he applied the dressing and wrapped a bandage around to hold it in place, he said the cut would probably leave a scar but Bethany didn't mind; it was a testament to her escape from death.

  No trace was found of the dark sorcerers, however. While many believed they perished in the flames, others were concerned that ample time had existed for them to escape the tower. The battle on the plain would have provided all the distraction they needed to escape.

  The wounded from Aluria were loaded into the first wagons and escorted home by the caliph's remaining warriors. Of the one hundred thousand who came north, less than half would be returning to the desert, many bearing the wounds they suffered against the goblins and the orcs. Their dead had joined the rest in a huge pyre that had burned for a week.

  The fell creatures had all melted away, transforming into a mist that dissipated in the wind. The mages insisted this meant the rift in the dimensions was sealed, but that was something only time would reveal.

  King William had asked the battle mages to completely destroy the keep. Using the power of the reopened ley lines, they demolished it, breaking the stone down into smaller pieces suitable for building homes, towns, barns and sheds; the structures necessary to pastoral life. The king abolished the duchy of Eastfell, giving the northern portion to Kendrahl and keeping the rest for Aluria. It would take time to repair the ravaged land and to convince people to settle there once more, but that was for the future.

  The mithrail spear was firmly embedded in the rock and could not be removed. King William had decreed that it would forevermore be regarded as a monument to the epic battle foug
ht on the plain between the Forces of Life and the minions of the Dark.

  Armand, Duke of Kendrahl, had two sons and three daughters. Thomas, the eldest son, was confirmed as the new duke in abstentia since he was back at Kendrahl Keep. His younger brother, Martin, who had fought beside his father and seen him die, stood in for the new duke during the ceremony. As a reward for his gallant service, King William appointed Martin the governor of the new territory awarded to Kendrahl. The young man was already planning how to get settlers in time for spring planting, many of whom he had recruited from among the mountain warriors he had fought with. The wounded especially wanted to stay rather than face the rigors of traveling in the mountains through the heavy snow.

  The wounded Wolves of Westfell began their long trek back home. One of the wagons had been set aside for the heir and his wife. His broken leg and arm had been immobilized in plaster casts after the initial healing spells, and he spent most of the ride home resting with his head in Bethany's lap. He later said he didn't know which was rougher: being jolted when the wagon hit a rut or a rock, or being kicked in the head by the baby in Bethany's belly. He, of course, made the comment far from Bethany's hearing.

  * * * *

  King William stared at the invitation left on his throne. The guards swore no one had entered the throne room, and the king believed them since the invitation was from King Brightblade and Queen Arianna. The six weeks since his return from Eastfell had been hard ones, complicated by the grief he finally had time to feel. There had been much to do, of course, in repairing the city and finding a new chancellor, but that still left many lonely nights. An invitation to visit the Veil would be a welcome break in his life.

  * * * *

  Ilara fussed around the comfortable wagon prepared for the journey to the Veil. A thick pallet had been installed in the bed of the wagon to provide a relatively comfortable place for the recovering heir and his very pregnant wife. Ilara had said Princess Bethany had no business traveling at this stage of her pregnancy. However, Bethany herself had brooked no demurrals. She was going to the Veil no matter what, and she intended to stay there through the rest of her confinement. Ilara then announced that where Bethany went, she would go as well, so she would be driving the wagon. Duke Richard would ride alongside on his horse, leaving General Gustav to manage the duchy in his absence.

  The trip to the Veil had been uneventful, although the king and his few guards had joined them the night before they reached the Great Forest. King William instructed the guards to remain at the Tower of the Pact while he accompanied Duke Richard's party the rest of the way to the Veil.

  * * * *

  The dwarves had done many remarkable things in their reconstruction of the Veil community, including the fabrication of several guest houses located on the ground. Several of the injured rangers had been unable to climb the spiral stairs into the hiakehlas so adequate housing for their recuperation had to be found. When Queen Arianna saw them, she had requested larger ones be built as well to house visitors of high rank, knowing King William and Duke Richard would return one day, as would Prince Rory and Princess Bethany. These new quarters were now filled by the visiting groups.

  * * * *

  At the appointed moment specified in their invitations, everyone was assembled at the new Heart for its consecration and dedication. In addition to King William and Duke Richard, representing the world of men, there were representatives from other groups as well. Barwin, now reinstated as Guildmaster, and all the members of the Guild Board were there. Elona and several of the other hamadryads were in attendance, along with myriad sprites and pixies. King Brightblade and Queen Arianna stood at the head of the procession of mages, while the recovering Winterstar sat near Prince Rorrick and Princess Bethany. Swiftstalker, the remaining rangers and other elven folk were massed behind them.

  The procession of mages wound around the great sphere, each one reaching out to grasp a ley line and anchoring it to the sphere. Rory opened his senses and could feel and see the connections being made. The great sphere began to glow with an internal fire as the Forces of Life combined and collected within it.

  Queen Arianna took the center, facing the crowd, as she said, “The Heart is now joined and keyed to the Forces of Life. May it always shield and nurture life in its great diversity. May its power only be used for the betterment of all."

  The assembled mass began to clap and cheer as the queen said, “The Veil is now reestablished. However, those of you who are from outside the Veil need have no fear, for the Heart now recognizes you. You shall have free and open access to the Veil for as long as you shall live. We do this not just in recognition for your services to the Forces of Life and the Veil during the struggle against the Dark; we do it out of the love we feel for you all. Without our mutual efforts, the Dark would have triumphed. It was only through pooling our diversity that we prevailed."

  Once the Heart was cleared of all but the mages, the secondary Veil was established to contain the magic they used within and to shield the Heart from outside influences. This second consecration of power was dedicated to Windwalker, the elderly master mage who had been killed defending the Heart from the demon.

  * * * *

  A grand feast was held to honor all those who attended the ceremony. Even as the gathered guests enjoyed the hospitality of the Veil, deals were being struck between several of the parties. King William and Duke Richard both met with the Guildmaster to arrange for the quarrying of stone needed for various projects, including the rebuilding of the fourth ring of the city of Aluria. In exchange, King William granted the dwarves the right to establish a new Guild presence in the region formerly known as Eastfell. When the Guild seemed a little less than enthusiastic, Rory mentioned the rich vein of mithrail he had found that stretched under the land from one side of the territory to the other.

  Their meetings concluded and the deals toasted in fine elven ale, Queen Arianna pulled King William aside. “William, Beatrice would not want you to mourn the way you have been. Your kingdom needs you to move on with your life, and to rediscover the joys of being alive."

  "I know that in my head, Arianna, but my heart is not yet a believer. For now, it is only the nights that are difficult, and this fine ale will help me through them for a while."

  "Might I suggest some time in one of the pools, William? The ale and the pools will make all things clearer to you.” Arianna the directed one of the sprites to lead the king to a specific pool she had set aside for his use. As she watched the monarch follow the small fey into the darkness, a secret smile crossed her lips. He would find more than ale and hot water tonight; she had arranged for one of the more attractive of her sisters to join the king “accidentally” at the pool. Perhaps he would discover the joys of this world once more sooner than he expected.

  * * * *

  Everyone had finally settled down for the night when Bethany felt the onset of labor. At first she just thought it was simple pains brought on by the trip and the festivities, but they grew in strength and frequency.

  "Rory, wake up."

  He raised his weary head and looked at her with somewhat bloodshot eyes from way too many ales with his father and grandfather. “What is it, Beth? I'm trying to sleep."

  "Well, sleep is out for the time being. I'm in labor and you need to summon someone to help us."

  Rory called out, “Assistance, please,” but Elona responded rather than the expected pixie or sprite.

  "Elona! It appears Beth has gone into labor. Would you please summon the midwife?"

  "Certainly, my Prince, along with someone to help you out of the room. We can't have you right in the middle of things."

  Mere moments went by before a veritable army descended on the couple's temporary home. Two elven warriors picked Rory up and took him back to the feasting area where Swiftstalker poured him a frosty tankard of ale and kept him company during his wife's delivery. Queen Arianna and the midwife shooed everyone else out to give the princess some privacy, an
d most of them drifted back to join Rory as the waiting began.

  The wail of a crying baby finally split the night and everyone relaxed, eager to hear the news from the queen. She entered the glade and walked over to Rory to say, “You have a fine, healthy son.” It was only after she had gotten Rory alone that she added, “There is one thing, and it probably means nothing, but the child has a rather distinct birthmark. There is a black mark that runs from his left shoulder across his back to his right hip, matching in size and position the scar across your wife's stomach from the goblin's claw."

  "I thought everyone felt the claw didn't penetrate her womb,” Rory said.

  "It didn't. We don't know what it means, Rory, and it's probably nothing to be concerned about. Now, I will have someone take you to see your new son and your exhausted wife."

  As Rory was carried away, Queen Arianna wondered if she truly believed what she just said or if, in fact, the child had been marked by the Forces of the Dark.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Fantasy always held a special place in my heart as a boy. Edgar Rice Burroughs took me to many fabulous places through his various series—Pelucidar, Mars, Venus. Other great writers soon followed—J.R.R. Tolkien, Andre Norton, Mercedes Lackey, Anne McCaffery, R. A. Salvatorre. The fantasy world of elves, dwarves, ogres, orcs, and dragons fascinates and inspires in a way few other places can, which is why it touches even my Æthereal series.

  After spending 24 years traveling the world for the Air Force, I retired to South Carolina and presently work as an IS Regional Infrastructure Support Manager for a Fortune 500 company covering facilities from Florida to New Jersey, plus Wisconsin and Minnesota. I have six children, thirteen grandchildren and step-grandchildren, two dogs, and a library of over 1,500 books of almost every genre.