by Lana Axe
As the couple walked slowly through the long marble corridor of the palace, Lisalla placed her arm in her husband’s. “May I offer you some advice, my king?” she asked, her voice soft and kind.
“Always,” he replied.
“Above all else, love your people,” she said. “Do what is best for them, and you will be a good king.”
“I shall endeavor to do so,” Aelryk replied. “You must also do something for me.”
“What is that, my lord?” she asked.
“You must never fear to speak your mind and offer your advice to me,” he said. “I would have a wife who is also involved in governing this kingdom.”
“I promise,” she replied.
Chapter 53
After spending several days with his grandfather, Yori had finally made his way back to the city of Enald. The town still showed signs of extensive damage from its recent attack by the elves. People walked hurriedly through the streets, going about various tasks. Some busied themselves repairing the damage and removing debris.
Yori continued through the streets to his uncle’s smithy. It still stood and appeared mostly unharmed. There were new wooden shingles to the roof, and some of the posts had been replaced, suggesting that the shop had been damaged but was already repaired.
Inside the shop, he caught sight of his uncle at the anvil. He was hammering away, completely unaware of Yori’s presence. Seated at the far corner of the shop was Meladee. Her dark hair covered most of her face as she played with a cloth doll.
Glimpsing movement at the corner of her eye, she looked up at Yori with a start. “Yori!” she yelled, rushing past her father to reach him.
Ren looked up and spun around in time to see Yori kneel and grab the little girl. He lifted her high in the air before hugging her tightly to his chest. She kissed his cheeks and giggled, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You’ve been gone forever,” she said, scolding him as he returned her to her feet.
“I’m sorry, Meladee,” he replied. “I had a lot to learn. Will you forgive me?”
“Ok,” she replied, grinning.
“It’s good to see you again,” Ren said. “I didn’t know if you’d be coming back.”
“I wasn’t really sure myself,” Yori responded truthfully. “I’ve traveled quite a bit this winter, but it feels good to come home.”
“You’ve probably heard that the war is over,” Ren said. “We took some damage here, but the entire town pitched in to repair the smithy. With all the work I have lined up to repair the town, I’ve had to hire two new apprentices. You’re still welcome to work for me if you like.”
“Thanks, Uncle,” Yori replied. “But I should have a job waiting for me in the palace district.” He grinned, trying to imagine what it would be like working for the king.
“That’s true,” Ren said. “I bet that job pays much better. With all that you’ve probably learned while you were away, I think you might be ready to run your own smithy. I’d like to hear about these runes if you’re going to stay a while.”
“I think I could be persuaded to stay a day or two.”
“Trella has been missing you too. No doubt she’ll want to cook all of your favorite dishes while you’re here.”
“That’s it,” Yori replied with a smile. “You’ve convinced me.”
“Yay!” Meladee shouted. “We’re building a new house. It’s a big one. There’s even going to be a room for you.” She looked cheerfully up at Yori and took his hand.
“Whenever you want to visit, our door will always be open,” Ren said.
Yori looked down at Meladee and winked. She giggled and tugged at his arm, leading him to the site of her new home.
* * * * *
A few days later, Yori arrived once again at the palace district. Trella had sewn him a new red headband, and he checked to make sure it was covering his ears. The war had ended, but the negative sentiment toward elves remained unchanged.
Despite the layer of snow on the ground, the marketplace was bustling with its usual activities. As Yori walked along the streets, his spirits were high, reflecting the general atmosphere of the city. Everyone seemed to be smiling.
Moving unnoticed among the crowd, he stopped at the palace gates to request an audience with the king. Two guards in shining chainmail stood proudly, watching as the people went about their duties.
“Excuse me,” Yori said to them. “I was sent on a mission by the prince, and now I have returned. I need to report back to him.”
The guards looked him up and down. One of them replied, “The prince is now the king.”
Yori smiled knowingly. “Yes, I’ve heard the news. May I see him?”
“You can wait inside, but the king is very busy. One of his councilors might come and speak to you.” Opening the gate, the guard waved him through.
Within the stone walls of the palace, Yori felt trapped. Having spent time in the forests, he no longer felt as comfortable indoors as he once did. Despite his uneasiness, he stood with his back straight, trying to appear dignified. He felt a bit silly, but he didn’t want to be mistaken for a servant or dismissed without the chance to see the king.
After nearly an hour, a gray-haired councilor in a yellow robe strutted down the hallway. “You have a report for the king, I’m told,” he said. Staring at Yori with disdain, he awaited a response.
“Yes,” Yori said. “A few months ago he sent me to learn a special craft. I have returned to offer him my service.”
“The king himself sent you?” the councilor asked suspiciously.
“He was the prince at the time, and yes, he sent me himself.” Yori returned the stare, showing the old man that he was not intimidated by his tone.
“What was this craft?” the councilor asked, narrowing his eyes.
“That is between the king and myself,” Yori replied. Growing impatient, he added, “He’s not going to be pleased when he learns you’ve kept me from my duties.”
The old man snorted. “What name shall I give to the king?”
“My name is Yori,” he replied. “I am the blacksmith he pardoned and sent on a mission.”
“Wait here,” the man said. He turned and strode back down the hallway, disappearing through a tall wooden door.
Yori sighed and continued to wait. Several minutes later, the councilor once again appeared at the end of the hallway. He beckoned for Yori to follow him.
The doorway led into the king’s throne room, where a large number of people had gathered. Apparently Yori was not the only one who had business with the king. The councilor motioned for him to take a seat among the crowd, but a voice commanded him differently.
“Yori,” Aelryk said. “I didn’t actually expect you to return.”
Yori stood dumbfounded, unsure how to address a king. Their previous meeting had been so informal that he had not stopped to consider how he should behave in the king’s presence.
Waving frantically, the old councilor summoned Yori up to the front. With a tilt of his head, he signaled Yori to stand in front of the king. Yori obeyed, standing awkwardly before the throne. Silence ensued, and he glanced back at the councilor who was lowering his head, apparently trying to tell Yori to bow.
Yori bowed awkwardly before the king, trying to fight his own embarrassment. The king suppressed his laughter, understanding how out of place the young half-elf must feel.
“Have you completed the task I gave you?”
“I have, Your Majesty.”
“Good,” the king replied. “Have you mastered the craft of rune carving?
“I have.”
“And have you come here to fulfill your promise to work for me?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, but I have a condition.”
Aelryk raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What might that be?”
Yori took a deep breath and let it out. He knew he was in no position to make demands of a king, but his conscience would not allow him to remain silent. “I will work for you on the cond
ition that the weapons I craft will not be used to harm the elves of the Wildlands.”
The king nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I have every intention of upholding the peace treaty. I understand your request, and I give you my word.”
Yori gave a single nod. “Then I am at your service, Your Majesty.”
“Good,” Aelryk replied. “I will have quarters arranged for you here in the palace.”
“If you don’t mind,” Yori began, “I would prefer to live on the north side of town near the large grove of trees. I prefer to remain close to nature.”
“I will have a home constructed for you,” the king said. “The palace armory is now yours. I trust you to oversee its daily operations and produce quality weapons and armor for my troops.”
Yori felt a surge of pride. Being placed in charge of a king’s armory at his young age was no small accomplishment. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said.
“You may encounter some prejudice while the war is still fresh in everyone’s minds. In time, I hope we can move beyond that. You are dismissed.”
He bowed again before taking his leave. Exiting the palace, he followed the dirt path around to the armory, where a dozen smiths were hard at work. These men were now under his supervision. As he entered the army, he noticed a small purple flower had lifted its head and pushed its way through the snow.
About the Author
Lana Axe lives in the Missouri countryside surrounded by dogs, cats, birds, and reptiles. She spends most of her free time daydreaming about elves, magic, and far-away lands.
For more information, please visit: http://lana-axe.com/
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
About the Author