Wizard in the Woods
By
Jeffrey M. Poole
www.AuthorJMPoole.com
The Mythra Triad illustration drawn by:
Brett David Gable Illustrations
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real locations, is purely coincidental.
Published by: Hungry Griffin Publishing
www.HungryGriffin.com
Published in the United States of America
1st Electronic Edition
BLNT Lives!
For a complete list of titles available by Jeffrey M. Poole, including the best-selling fantasy series Bakkian Chronicles and Tales of Lentari, and the cozy mystery series Corgi Case Files, please click here!
The Mythra Triad
(On temporary loan from Steve, Rhenyon, & Breslin)
Acknowledgments
Once more I am preparing to publish a book and as always, I am incredibly thankful for a small but elite group of people.
First and foremost, I have to express my profound appreciation for my wife, Giliane. She’s my primary proofer who has the uncanny ability to spot gaping plot holes who then, bless her heart, has the amazing ability to suggest changes/fixes for the aforementioned plot holes. Also, I have to thank my group of beta readers who willingly took time out of their busy lives to help an indie author clean up his manuscript before presenting it to the world. My betas for this title are: Diane, Jamie, Scott, Kristen, Jason, Linda, Caroline, Lawrence, and Tanner. You guys are the best! You have my eternal thanks!
The Mythra Triad (the graphic with two swords and one ax) was hand painted by a good friend from England, Brett. To see more of his work check out Brett Gable Illustrations on Facebook. He’s a very talented artist and you won’t be disappointed.
Once more I have to thank the incredibly gifted husband and wife team of Richard and Rachel Marks. Rachel is the artist I’ve used for all my covers and, as to be expected, the cover she did for this book was simply outstanding. Richard handled the title graphics and, as before, did an outstanding job making the title look fantastic.
The last person I need to thank is YOU. You, the reader, have kept the series alive when I was more than ready to end it to move on to other things. I’ve had an absolute blast writing more stories about Lentari and will continue to do so as long as I can. Thank you very much for helping to support an indie author! You guys & gals rock!!
J.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1 – A MOMENTOUS DAY
CHAPTER 2 – THE ROGUE RESURFACES
CHAPTER 3 – A BREAK IN THE CASE
CHAPTER 4 – CORGI CAPERS
CHAPTER 5 – A NEW ERA
CHAPTER 6 – EARTH, WIND, & FIRE
CHAPTER 7 – CAT’S OUT OF THE BAG
CHAPTER 8 – MISPLACED AFFECTION
CHAPTER 9 – HELLO, UGLY!
CHAPTER 10 – A WHOLE NEW WORLD
CHAPTER 11 – DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING
CHAPTER 12 – SHEALK SHOCK
CHAPTER 13 – OUT OF TIME
CHAPTER 14 – SEALING THE DEAL
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
FAN SUBMISSIONS
For Giliane –
Words cannot begin to describe how fortunate I am to
find you by my side each and every day.
Love you always & forever!
J.
Prologue
Dark clouds of jet black smoke billowed steadily up on the northern horizon. After a few minutes, when it looked as though the ominous smoke had begun to dissipate, more roars echoed loudly throughout the still forest. Flashes of bright orange light illuminated the surrounding countryside, followed almost immediately by more of the black smoke curling up into the air.
Several dozen villagers were chatting nervously amongst themselves. Several kept pointing at the uncomfortably close wall of smoke and then cast furtive looks back at the roofs of their thatched cottages. At least a dozen people had climbed up onto their roofs and were dumping bucket after bucket of water on the tops of their houses in the hopes that the impending fires would spare their homes.
A large, middle-aged, barrel chested man appeared astride a horse. Both he and the white stallion he was riding were out of breath. A moment later a dozen more riders appeared by his side. They were the voluntary village militia, and from the looks of their less than stellar appearance, had been hastily assembled without adequate time to don their gear. The lead rider pointed angrily at the northern horizon.
“What the blazes are you people doing? Do you not see the approaching fires? Forget about your homes. They can be rebuilt. Your families are more important. Get them and yourselves to safety. Now!”
One villager, a gaunt older fellow in his late sixties, stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the deputies from his position on the roof.
“I’m not abandoning my home for one lousy fire, constable,” the villager angrily quipped. He emptied the bucket of water he was holding onto his roof and moved back toward the ladder propped up against his house. He descended only long enough to refill the pail before he returned to the roof. “Three generations of my family have lived in this house. I won’t turn my back on everything that I –”
“I don’t have time for this,” the constable irritably snapped. He looked over at two of his deputies. “The next time he climbs down that ladder you’ll see to it that he collects his things and leaves.”
“If he doesn’t?” one of his deputies asked as he looked up at the angry homeowner who continued to glare at them as though they were nothing more than a band of filthy invaders.
“Then take him into custody. No home is worth losing a life.”
The villager lobbed his bucket off the roof and angrily shook a fist in the constable’s direction.
“Over my dead body am I gonna leave this here house!”
“Don’t tempt me,” the constable darkly muttered. He turned to watch the great clouds of smoke drift closer. He heard a distant roar just before another section of the horizon went up in flames. Another bout of angry black clouds rose up into an already darkening sky. “Blasted dragons are going to force us all out. Perhaps we should…”
He trailed off as he noticed his men had begun violently shaking their heads.
“Don’t even suggest it,” one of his deputies told him in a wary voice. “There’s no way we’re gonna take on a dragon. We’re only volunteers. Battling angry dragons was never part of the job description.”
The constable scowled. A breeze had picked up, one that unfortunately was coming from the north. The dark clouds were being pushed closer, which meant so were the fires. Three more distinct roars sounded in the distance. The constable groaned. This wasn’t the work of a solitary dragon. There must be at least two wyverians out there now. He sighed. He hadn’t signed up for this, either. He turned to look back at his deputy.
“Send word to the king.”
Chapter 1 – A Momentous Day
“That’s a good girl. Bring it back, Peanut. Come on, if you want me to throw it you’ll have to drop it. No, I didn’t say we were going to play tug, did I? Now,
drop it!”
A soggy, battered, fabric disc that had seen better days was reluctantly deposited at his feet. The young man tentatively stooped down to pick up the sodden toy. He ignored the numerous tiny rips and punctures the dog’s teeth had wrought on the old toy and expertly spun the disc around on his finger. His canine companion was beside herself with anxious anticipation. Her loud piercing barks could be heard all across the countryside, even as far back as the northern gates to the city. He glanced over at a nearby copse of fruit trees and narrowed his eyes.
Watching from a distance of several hundred feet away were four soldiers, each standing stiffly at attention, and each wearing a distinctive maroon tunic embroidered with gold thread in the shape of the Royal family’s personal crest. These were the Javyn, his bodyguards. Each guard had been hand-picked by either the king or the commander and each one, Mikal dryly noted, had the personality of a slug.
The youth sighed heavily. Even though his father insisted the soldiers were under orders to not interfere, Mikal knew that they were simply glorified babysitters. He turned to his left and snapped his wrist, sending the disc careening towards a row of sidah trees. Peanut took off amidst a chorus of joyous barks. In moments she had returned and was waiting by his feet. He bent down for yet another tug-of-war match with the dog and then flung the padded disc off towards the mouth of the dragon cavern. The Welsh corgi bounded after the toy, eager to please him and anxious for the game to continue.
Peanut returned to his side and spit the disc on the ground. Not before Mikal’s feet, oh no. It had to be in front of her own two paws. That way the game could easily be switched back to a much more entertaining game of tug. Sensing her owner’s duress, Peanut whined, reared up, and placed her two stumpy front legs on top of his.
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Mikal asked the playful canine. “Are you bored, too? I know what you mean. Nothing ever happens here.”
Peanut cocked her head as she stared at him, as if to indicate her long term memory was much better than his.
“Fine. Nothing happens here anymore. Is that better?”
Satisfied, the corgi dropped back down to all fours and snatched up her beloved disc. She settled into the soft grass and started adding more punctures and rips to the already tattered surface of the padded toy.
Mikal slowly looked around the countryside. He knew he was right. Nothing exciting happened in Lentari anymore. The last bit of fun he had was listening to the astounding tale his former protectors had spun when they described going back in time two years ago. Why hadn’t he been the one to find that hidden portal? Why couldn’t he have been the one to travel back in time and have all those glorious adventures? Mikal’s face fell as he thought back to what he had been doing at the time of their disappearance. Studying. Always studying. Or perhaps sitting in on one of his father’s many boring sessions with various nobles and court officials. Yes, he knew it was for the day when his father would pass him the crown, but everyone knew that day was nowhere in the foreseeable future. Why, then, did he have to be subjected to such mundane proceedings on a daily basis?
Lentari was a peaceful kingdom, Mikal knew. Ylani, the neighboring kingdom to the north, hadn’t caused any problems since Shardwyn’s son, Thaden, had persuaded the Ylanians to unsuccessfully attempt to take over the kingdom and thereby invade Lentari. Keeping the peace was something his father had drilled into him at an early age. That and plenty of communication. Make sure you’re always in contact with your neighbors, his father had told him. Even if there wasn’t any strife between their two kingdoms it was still prudent, according to his father, to maintain the bond of friendship no matter the costs.
Mikal thought about their neighbors to the south. Straosia. The wild lands to their immediate south were largely unexplored and sparsely populated. The king had sent an emissary to visit their Straosian neighbors late last year but they had returned almost immediately, citing poorly maintained roads and a lack of hospitality, not to mention a disturbing absence of vacancies at what inns they could find. His father, Mikal remembered, had told him later that day that he’d try again, possibly in a few months. While not overly concerned, Mikal knew his father would extend a helping hand if the Straosians would ask. The problem is, more than likely they would not. Perhaps he could ask his father to allow him to take an extended journey south to see if there might be anything he could do? After all, it was time he started accepting more responsibility, wasn’t it?
Hearing some heavy breathing noises coming from the ground, Mikal glanced down and smiled. Peanut had been rolling around in the soft grass and had apparently fallen asleep. She was lying on her back with all four of her paws sticking straight up.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go home.”
One of Peanut’s eyes cracked open and studied him. The corgi refused to move until he had taken the first step back towards the castle. In a flash the dog had regained her feet and was bolting after him with several inches of her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth.
Peanut yipped excitedly at him from the other side of the castle’s drawbridge, encouraging him to pick up the pace. As soon as the teenager stepped foot on the heavy wooden planks that made up the drawbridge Peanut turned around and bolted through the open doorway, expertly weaving in and out of the many legs that were passing by.
“Peanut! Wait up!”
Mikal caught up to the playful corgi just in time to see her dash into the Great Hall. Horrified, and certain that his parents would not approve of the dog’s presence while they were conducting their usual dour meetings, Mikal hurried to catch up to the dog. He came to a halt as he noticed that Peanut had jumped up onto his mother’s lap and was now snuggling up against her chest.
“Oh, man,” Mikal softly muttered.
His parents were in the middle of some type of meeting and whatever they were talking about couldn’t have been good. The seriousness of the situation sunk in just as Commander Rhenyon, Captain Pheron, and Lieutenant Darius all turned to regard him with grim expressions. Mikal plastered his best smile on his face and looked over at Peanut. The corgi was sitting complacently on the queen’s lap and was watching him, as though he alone was responsible for interrupting everyone in the room.
“Uh…”
Kri’Entu stared sullenly at him. “Son. Is something the matter?”
“I, er…”
Why wouldn’t his mouth work? All he had to do was ask his father for a few minutes of his time. It was a simple request. It wasn’t anything like having to admit he was romantically interested in a girl from Capily. Thank the wizards his parents hadn’t found out he had bribed the dwarf keymaker to secretly make him his very own portal key which would take him to Capily. All he needed to do was to ask his father if there were anything he could do to help out. Anyone would be able to see that his father was clearly preoccupied with something else. Something serious. In fact, his father had been that way for several months now. Wouldn’t he be doing everyone a favor if he asked permission to explore Straosia?
“Yes, Mikal. Is there something you need?” his father asked again.
“I, er, was wondering if perhaps I could make a journey to Straosia. Little is known about them, father. Perhaps I could –”
“A journey to Straosia will have to wait, son,” his father gently told him as he shook his head. “There are more pressing matters to deal with right now than sanctioning an exploratory expedition to the south.”
“Like what?” Mikal automatically asked. He immediately winced. His father’s instant refusal had annoyed him and Mikal was certain he had been unable to keep the irritation from appearing in his voice.
Kri’Entu’s face became even more solemn than it had been.
“That which does not concern you, my son.”
“Father, perhaps if I…”
Mikal trailed off as he noticed his father’s darkening eyes. His mother came to his rescue. She quietly rose from her throne and gently placed the corgi back onto the
ground.
“I will leave you to your discussion, my love,” Ny’Callé calmly announced. “Mikal, come with me.” A look of gratitude briefly appeared on the king’s face.
Kri’Entu nodded. “Thank you.”
Within moments the king had returned to whatever quiet discussion he had been having prior to Peanut’s sudden appearance.
“But there’s nothing to do,” Mikal grumped as he plopped himself down onto one of the plush chairs inside his mother’s private reading room. “It’s the same thing day in and day out. You and father sit in the Great Hall while I study in the Archives. I’m tired of studying, mother. I want to do something. I’m eighteen years old now! Isn’t there something I can do? Something worthwhile?”
His mother was silent as she studied him.
“Why wouldn’t father let me go south? So little is known about Straosia. What if they’re in trouble? Wouldn’t it be prudent to send a Lentarian representative to see if there’s something we can do?’
His mother continued to be silent. She was softly stroking Peanut’s fur as the corgi snoozed on her lap.
“Straosia is the least of our concerns right now,” his mother softly told him.
“So it doesn’t rank that high on the totem pole. I get it. It’s still important to try, isn’t it?”
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