Contents
Sunstone
Moonstone
Dragonstone
Soulstone
Heartstone
Free Download
A Note from Jake
Title Page
Sunstone
Book 1
A blue haze of sunlight filtered through the trees surrounding the old road running from Aldmoor to Taleros. Pine trees towered over the herbaceous underlayer where the sun reached through the thick dark canopy and a few young sprouts stretched out their boughs to capture a bit of the light. In the morning stillness, not a leaf moved, as the world caught its collective breath. The old road barely deserved that term. Two parallel patches of bare dirt and gravel meandering through the wilderness, separated by a patch of green. In places, it was nearly impassible due to pits and mounds created from falling trees. There was seldom reason for the city-dwellers of Aldmoor to make the trek up to Taleros, and the town folk preferred it that way.
Once the trade coming down the old road had provided lumber and foodstuffs to support a thriving, growing economy. The road itself maintained by a King’s tax and regular patrols of the Dragon Guard provided protection. Since the end of the Dragon Wars the growth had stopped and Taleros muddled along in its own little back-water, ignored and ignoring the Kingdom disintegrating around it. There were no more trade caravans and the Dragon Guard had not been heard from in a decade.
A trio of horses galloped down the pathway, shattering the morning peace, a white gelding in the lead. Its cloaked rider had given the horse his head, relying on the horse’s strength and sense of self-preservation to carry them safely down the uneven road. Back arched, the rider stole a glance back. Seeing their pursuers gaining, she urged her horse faster. Careening around the next bend, an arrow slammed into the tree beside the road, missing the rider by inches. Digging heels in, they urged their horses faster.
“We’ll never out run them on this road!” shouted one. “Go on! We’ll make a stand and give you time to escape.”
“No!” the lead rider shouted back. “We must stand together.”
“Krystelle, you must reach Lord Adelwolf or this has all been for nothing. No more arguing. GO!” He was right, and Krystelle knew it. Urging her horse ahead, she felt her two companions dropping behind.
Five warhorses thundered into view, pursuing the fleeing riders, their broad chests heaving as they galloped down the pathway. Atop four of the beasts rode simple soldiers in chain mail, two firing arrows from their short horse bows. The fifth carried a hooded figure in a blue-grey cloak, long silver ponytail streaming behind him in the wind created by his passage. He had exquisite leather gauntlets reinforced with obsidian steel. Seeing the two riders ahead of them on the road, swords drawn, the dark wizard motioned to his men, “Ride on! I’ll take care of this scum. One hundred gold marks to the one who brings the girl to me.” The four riders redoubled their efforts, intent on claiming the bounty. Drawing their swords, Krystelle Mora’s escort faced off against the four riders now barreling down on them, trailed by their leader on his black stallion. Recognizing the real threat was here in front of them and that Krystelle Mora would have no trouble outwitting these four without the dark wizard to help them, the two riders allowed the soldiers to sweep past.
The cloaked figure pulled his horse up short and sat for a moment, contemplating the two riders with their swords drawn. With a shout, they raised their swords and charged the man. Unperturbed, he looked down and cupped his hands together, eyes closed. They had crossed half the distance separating them from him when he looked back up and thrust his hands towards them. A ball of fire burst forth and slammed into them. Two lifeless bodies fell from their mounts with dual thuds as the now riderless mounts trotted away. The wizard shook his head, “Fools,” he muttered, riding off after his real prey.
Some distance ahead, the woman in question was becoming desperate. She knew it was simply a matter of time before the dark wizard, Gerlach Pwyll, and his men caught up with her. The poor gelding was no match for the endurance and speed of trained warhorses and was nearing the end of his strength. The chase had gone on too long and was now in its final stages. She needed to find a way to gain some time if she was to have any chance of eluding pursuit, much less delivering her message.
Ahead she could see that the road passed into a thicker portion of the forest and she saw her opportunity. In the split second before her pursuers came back into view she hurled herself from her saddle to roll down the embankment. Her horse continued on its path with renewed vigor now the load had lightened. Bruised, she managed to secret herself in the underbrush just as her pursuers came into view.
She watched, scarcely daring to breathe as they hurtled past. They had not seen her leap from the horse. Puffing out a sigh of relief, she scrambled down the hillside, away from the road and limped into the deep forest. With luck, she would find the river and be able to follow it to Taleros. She hoped that her two companions had managed to stop Pwyll, but in her heart knew they were no match for Gerlach Pwyll. She would not let their sacrifice be in vain.
Further down the road, the fleeing horse slowed to a halt. Sides covered in foam and chest heaving, the gelding was spent. Had the rider remained astride, she would have found herself cornered. The four riders skidded up, sawing on their reigns to bring their mounts to a stop and the soldiers dismounted, drawing their swords. One took the white’s reins and said to the others, “She’s run ‘im in to the ground. She can’t have gone far. Find her.” Spreading out, they began beating the bushes for any sign of the woman. One, Bricius, was a former hunter and tracker, and was familiar with the forests outside Taleros. Kneeling down he inspected the ground near where the horse had stopped and made his way back down the road, almost crawling as he searched.
His companions made short work of their own search and returned to the road as Gerlach Pwyll trotted up to join them, cloak billowing in the wind. The one who had restrained her horse approached Pwyll to report. “There’s no sign of her m’lord,” he stammered. “She’s escaped. We should hurry to Taleros to cut her off.” He paused, failing to notice the narrowing of Pwyll’s eyes that should have served to warn him from pressing the wizard further. “I’ll still get my 100 marks though, won’t I?”
In one smooth motion Pwyll kicked the man in his face, sending him sprawling in the dirt. “A bit premature to declare her escaped.” He glared at the remaining two. “I don’t reward failure. Do the rest of you have any…suggestions?” he snarled at them in his gravelly voice. They hurriedly shook their heads in the negative. “What of Bricius?”
The tracker came trotting back to their horses, “There’s no sign of her through here. She must have jumped from the horse while we were out of sight. We’ll have to track back to find the place she left the road.”
“Lead on then Bricius.” Pwyll motioned to his men to mount up.The one he had kicked peeled himself up from the ground, nose broken and dripping blood. Staggering over to his mount, he pulled himself into the saddle and scowled at Pwyll’s back. Another of the soldiers shot him a look of warning before handing him the leads to Bricius’ horse and the white gelding. Not a wise move to cross the wizard.
Determined to find the trail, Bricius walked back with care, intent on tracking their quarry. Rounding corners, he took an outward track nearest to the tree line, reasoning that would have been the likeliest place for her to secret herself while they rode past. They had gone a few hundred yards when he saw something out of place and he knelt down to investigate. His keen eyes examined the lay of the underbrush. Something, or someone, had lain here recently and then moved off into the forest.
“Here, M’ lord! She came this
way.”
Gerlach Pwyll and the other three soldiers dismounted, scanning the lush green vegetation for any other indications of their prey. “Are you certain this is the way she came? Can you follow the trail?”
“Yes, m’ lord. I’d stake my life on it!”
“Very well.” He pointed to the one with the bloody nose. “You, guard the horses and the trail. Be wary in case she tries to double back.”
Dismounting, the soldier collected the leads from his comrades and bowed his head slightly. “Yes, m’lord.” Pwyl and the remaining two soldiers made their way into the forest following Bricius. The tracker made slow progress at first, wanting to be sure he was not following a false trail. As they progressed deeper into the wood, the trail became clearer. A footprint here, a broken twig there.
Bricius prided himself on being able to follow the most subtle of trails and this one was far from subtle. Krystelle Mora might be known as an accomplished sword-master, but she was not skilled at covering her tracks. All the better for Bricius. He could almost feel Gerlach Pwyll’s breath on the back of his neck and had seen what happened when someone failed the wizard. When he had said that he would bet his life that he could track her, he knew that it might literally cost him his life if he failed this job.
Examining the signs, he turned to Gerlach Pwyll, “She’s getting careless. Either she thinks she’s gotten away or she’s panicking. We’ll have her before she reaches the river.”
The wizard smiled, although it did not quite reach his bloodshot eyes and snarled, “Lead on. I want this business done before the sun has set.”
#
This was a rare occasion for Sebastian. He seldom had the luxury of a free morning, and was determined to make the most of the opportunity. Most days he spent mucking stables or tending to the fields on his uncle’s farm. Today, though, his uncle had gone to market in Taleros. He had left before dawn, taking their two hands, Owen and Kret, with him. There’d be hell to pay if his uncle knew, but Sebastian was confident that uncle Caleb would never notice his absence. He had spent a good part of the early morning on chores so it was not like he had completely shirked his responsibilities.
Walking to the river, he frowned, wondering if his uncle would ever trust him to go to market himself. He was almost eighteen, a man by most accounts and he deserved an afternoon now and again with time to follow his own pursuits. Even if his uncle thought it a waste of time. Sebastian enjoyed having a beer or two with his friends in town and listening to the occasional gleeman when they came to town with their stories of elves and wizards and dragons.
Sitting on the gnarled, exposed roots of an old tree, he cast his lure out to the middle of the swiftly running Taler River. Here, in the depth of the old forest, the river was about two hundred feet wide and the forest rose above it on both sides, rising up towards the stark, grey Danto mountain range. A few stalks of water reeds and a river tree poked out above the surface just in front of his perch. His feet rested on a large boulder that was half submerged, water gurgling past on both sides.
Lulled by the peaceful afternoon, Sebastian let his mind wander as he created his own stories of princesses, wizards, and knights out of the fragments he did remember from the times his uncle had let him visit the market. When he did escape the watchful eye of his guardian, stories of heroes and villains, dragons and epic battles kept him enraptured. He was so caught up in his own stories, he did not even notice his line pulling; letting him know he had a fish on the hook, much less hear the silent figure sneaking up behind him.
“Do not make a sound,” a voice whispered from behind. Sharp cold steel pressed the side of his neck, the pressure just short of breaking the skin, a small hand holding down his free arm. “What’s your name?”
“Sebastian. Sebastian Headley,” he croaked, throat suddenly very dry.
“Sebastian. That is a strong name. Quickly now. Where are you from? What village?”
“Taleros.”
“Well, Sebastian Headley from Taleros, it looks like I’m going to have to trust you. Can I do that? Can I trust you?”
“Yes…you can trust me,” he whispered. He felt the blade draw away from his neck and as the figure released his arm, he scrambled forward, splashing in the river as he turned to face his attacker, water rushing around his ankles.
Laughing, she secreted the dagger in her cloak. “What are you going to do, stab me with your fishing rod?” He looked awkwardly at the rod in his hand and threw it to the shore, standing up and stepping out of the current as she continued. “I need you to listen as if your life depended on it, because it does. In a very short time Gerlach Pwyll is going to come riding out of those woods. Do you know who he is?” Sebastian nodded, his eyes growing large at the mention of the notorious dark wizard.
“Good. Then you know he is not to be trifled with. If he realizes you have spoken with me, your life is forfeit. However, if you will help me, I will see to it you escape these woods. Will you help me?”
“Pwyll is coming here?” Sebastian felt panic rising. “We’ve got to get out of here!” Everyone in Taleros had heard stories about the dark wizard. He had a reputation for ruthlessness and cunning that spread fear throughout the populace. Devoted to the memory of Sterling Lex, he pursued the study of magic and the dark arts in defiance of the Ban. It was said that the Krenon, charged with enforcing the Ban, had tried to apprehend him on multiple occasions, failing every time. Failing and dying. Most respectable folk knew better than to associate with him. It was said that the best way to survive an encounter with Gerlach Pwyll was to avoid it completely.
Seeing Sebastian’s rising panic, Krystelle continued, “Yes, he is coming here and the longer we bandy words the greater likelihood he will find us both and I will fail. Now will you help me?” Terrified, he could only nod his assent. “Good. Now listen carefully. I am going to give you a letter. You are not to open it; you are not to look inside. You are going to hide while I distract Pwyll. Take it with you and keep it safe. If you do not hear from me by sunset tomorrow, seek out Quiren Adelwolf of Gabirel and deliver it to him. I can not tell you how to find him, all I k0now is that he lives in the wilds outside of Taleros.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make sure you get away.”
“Can I know your name? If I’m going to make this Quiren Adelwolf believe me, I’ll need to know your name.”
Considering, she turned back from her survey of the forest towards Sebastian. “I suppose it can not do any harm. I am Krystelle Mora and I am a sword-master of Gabriel.”
He gaped at her. A sword-master of the fabled warrior-monks of Gabirel was sending him on a quest to another one of their order! It was like something out of one of his daydreams. He started to say something more when she held up a hand, listening. “They are coming. Will you do it?” He nodded and she pulled a packaged bundle from beneath her cloak and handed it to him. “Now HIDE! Whatever happens, do not reveal yourself. They must not find you or that package.” Pushing him towards the dense underbrush a few yards downstream, she waded into the river.
Heart racing, Sebastian wiggled his way into the brush, taking care not to disturb the vegetation more than necessary. He knew how to hide in these woods; having done it many times to escape his uncle’s demanding expectations. Moments before he had been dreaming of an adventure and now he found himself in the middle of one! Despite his terror, he almost laughed at the thought.
Turning, he watched as the woman made her way across the river. During their brief encounter, the hood of her emerald green riding cloak had hidden her face in shadow. Now the hood had fallen and he could see the profile of her face. Even disheveled, with streaks of dirt marring high cheekbones, she was stunningly beautiful. She had a strong, regal jawline and intensely dark eyes accentuated by a wisp of silver powder just beneath her brows. A narrow circlet held her curly auburn hair swept back away from those eyes, tendrils of hair escaping and looking for their freedom. There was something ab
out her that seemed familiar, as if he had seen a drawing of this strange woman or had met her before. He wished he had presented himself better in this first meeting. His grungy work clothes and shaggy, dull brown hair were not apt to impress a lady such as this. He felt like a coward, hiding in the woods while she lured Gerlach Pwyll away. Yet, there had been a rightness to what she had said. This was the way it must be. He turned back to the forest, slipping further away and out of sight.
Disappearing into the underbrush, Sebastian nestled down to hide. Peering out between the shrubs, he watched Krystelle make her way across the river. She had just reached the far shore when her pursuers burst from the forest. One of them towered over the others, long silver hair identifying him as Pwyll. No one else alive had hair that color and moved with such an easy, deadly grace. Some claimed that his hair was silver as a result of his efforts to restore Sterling Lex to power. Others rumored that he had made a pact with a demon through ritual sacrifice and the horror of it had caused his hair to turn. The most common theory said his hair was silver because he had Elvish blood in his ancestry. Not that anyone had seen an elf since the Ban had been put in place at the end of the Dragon Wars.
One of the soldiers raised his bow to fire an arrow at the woman who was now scrambling up the bank across the river. Pwyll lifted one gauntleted hand. “Hold. I don’t want her harmed. We cross the river. She won’t get far.” With a glance to his companions, he lowered the bow and they plunged forward into the water. In this open area, the Taler River was wide but not deep and they were able to make their way across quickly. Sebastian watched helplessly as the four men surrounded the woman on the far side.
She had stopped, throwing down her cloak and drawing a sword and dagger. Turning to face the tall wizard she drew herself up to her fullest height and looked squarely up into his eyes as he towered above her. Sebastian now could see that this was no lady with skirts divided for a country ride. No, it was breeches and a leather jerkin for her. Yet he was certain no one would ever mistake her for a lad. “Gerlach Pwyll. Only you would be so bold to attack a representative of the Knights of Gabirel on her way to render aid and comfort to the people of the Kingdom. Your life will be forfeit when the High Council hears of this affront.”
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 1
