Whill of Agora: Epic Fantasy Bundle (Books 1-4): (Whill of Agora, A Quest of Kings, A Song of Swords, A Crown of War) (Legends of Agora)

by Michael James Ploof

  She watched and she waited. The mud helped against the bugs. She became like the tree as she stood leaning amidst the thick drooping leaves and curtains of thin flowered vines which hung like tattered rags from the canopy above. The wind seemed never to find this deep haven, and her furs had become laden with her sweat. The air had been chill in the city, but here it was nearly sweltering and thick with humidity. But the cool mud proved useful in this regard as well.

  She waited high above the waters in anticipation of the coming prey. For a time incalculable due to the lack of sky she watched and waited and finally something approached. A rustling began behind her far below in the vegetation. Knowing that a chipmunk could sound like a wolf on the forest floor she could not tell its size. But when its feet fell upon solid earth she could guess at its length. She dared not move and scare it off, hoping that it was the giant boar. It continued on beneath her towards the water none the wiser and soon she could see it as it passed her tree.

  Balancing upon two branches with only a shoulder to the tree to steady her she knocked an arrow slowly hoping that it did not creak. Her heart hammered in her chest as she beheld the beast below. It fearlessly moved to the water and drank noisily. It was indeed a boar and none like she had ever seen. She saw quickly how it could survive in such a place, its hide was covered in large plates of armor and tusks like daggers descended up its snout to its ears. Aurora pulled back her bow and let her breath out long and slow. She aimed for the crease in its plating behind the right shoulder and fired. The elven arrow flew true but deflected off of the plate armor with a twang. The horned hog didn't scatter; rather it turned with a snort and looked directly at Aurora with beady black eyes not befitting its horse sized head. It charged the tree she stood perched in and slammed into it with enough force to shake it. The horned hog reared and charged it again and again until Aurora found herself having to hang on. It backed up to the water's edge and snorted dripping snot from its large wet snout. It tore up big chunks of earth with its deadly tusks and sent it flying in all direction, clearly challenging Aurora. She stood tall upon the branches and answered the challenge with a war cry and leapt from the tree. As she fell she unsheathed her longsword and came down upon the hog with a powerful blow. But the horned hog proved surprisingly agile and darted toward the tree as if to charge it once again. Aurora landed and rolled once to absorb the impact and spun to her feet. The hog had already turned swiftly and was now charging her headlong, its tusks aiming to skewer her. She hacked at it as it charged past and landed a blow to the side of the head that left the hog stumbling in the underbrush. It reared on her violently and she came down once again with her heavy blade. She put all of her strength into the blow and this time broke two tusks and drew blood. Infuriated, the horned hog thrashed and tore at the earth. Aurora braced herself and the hog charged once again. It came straight at her, but she held her ground until it was almost upon her. As it barreled in Aurora spun out of the way and came around to plunge the blade between the thick plate armor near the hog’s hindquarters. The blade sunk deep and Aurora held of tightly as the hog thrashed and bucked. Aurora pulled the blade free and the enraged boar turned on her with an open maw. She put all her might into a blow that broke teeth and cut through the beast's mouth splitting its head wide. The hog lurched and squealed but if came out only as wet gurgling. It fell to its side spent and Aurora was upon it in a flash. She positioned the blade between the armor plating of its shoulder and stabbed down and through the boar's heart. It tensed and died with a wheeze.

  Aurora sat there panting electrified by the fight. Her stomach reminded her why she had ventured into the jungle and she went to work opening the breastplate. It was hard work but eventually she laid the chest of the boar open and cut out the large glistening heart. Aurora raised the heart to the heavens and said a prayer to her goddess and the animal's spirit. When she had finished she brought the heart to her lips and tore a chunk from it and ate. The heart of the horned boar was warm and melted in her mouth. She went into a blood frenzy then, dancing and thrashing about. An energy that she had not known for a long time came rushing back to her, the strength of the beast.

  Chanting her people's songs she set to work building a fire of deadwood. As the fire took on a life of its own she began gutting and quartering the boar. The guts she left for the scavengers, there would be no sign of the mess come morning. The plate armor took some time to remove from the hog’s thick flesh; once it was stripped bare the job went quickly. With her heavy longsword she chopped off the legs, rump included, and hung them to bleed from vines. She took off the head and hung it also, and cut the huge ribs from the spine. With her sword she chopped down small trees and made the frame of her smoking spit. It had to be wide and tall, and strong enough to hold the heavy slabs of meat; many strong hanging vines would help with that.

  Once it was completed she carefully positioned the meat just over the raging fire. By now the wood that had been slow to catch was blazing, having had hours to grow. She knocked down the blazing logs and with her long poker spread the coals out evenly. The meat sizzled and the juices only added to the fire's fury. She let the meat char and set about gathering the large leaves nearby. When she added the leaves to the fire the smoke stopped altogether but then bellowed forth from beneath. The leaves were wet enough to last awhile, so Aurora set to making camp there a dozen paces from the watering hole.

  With her sword she cleared a wide birth around her fire. An hour of cutting trees into spears left a barrage of pointed shafts jutting out in every direction. It was hard to tell where the sun was, but it was well past noon, she figured a few hours remained before sundown. If this jungle was anything like the dark forests of Volnoss, Aurora knew that it would change into a different beast altogether. Creatures that now slumbered would surface to claim the night, and lesser creatures would cower in their dens. The smell of the smoking meat would bring them too, likely in legion. She had to show the predators of the night that she was not prey; tonight she was queen of this jungle.

  She added a few more logs on the fire and a fresh topping of leaves and checked the nearest piece. It was coming along well, by morning it would be ready for transport. With the last remaining hours of light she set to work making a cone tent with trees and leaves. She set two more fires by carrying hot coals in a wide piece of bark to rest in the stacked wood. Soon her tent sat in the center of the three fires, within the ring of spear poles. There was little she could do about the network of vines and branches above her. If any predators dared drop down from up there she would have to deal with it with her blade. As a second thought she made twelve more spears and set them facing straight up throughout the camp. When the jungle began to noticeably darken, she was ready.

  Aurora speared one of the front legs and laid it across the fire on her bracers. At the watering hole she filled her skin. With the coming of night came the feeling of a hundred eyes watching from the jungle beyond. The birds had stopped singing, and new and less beautiful calls filled the night. The jungle began to stir.

  Aurora added more logs to the fire from the pile she had set near the tent; it was enough to keep the fires lit until morning. She thought of her homeland and her people, the Timber Wolf Tribe. For hundreds of years they had lived on Volnoss, exiled from the mainland after the Barbarian-Dwarf Wars. The barbarians had lived in Northern Eldalon and Shierdon, the capitol of their kingdom once being the Krozock Mountains, known now as Northern Ky'Dren. Relations with the young kingdoms of Eldalon and Shierdon had always been shaky; there had been many wars with the two. Lucky for the two kingdoms the barbarians were not interested in conquest, for every barbarian knew that they could have taken all of Agora. The barbarians were happy with their lot, and the tribes cared not for the land of their neighbors. But the humans were indeed conquerors, and ever they pressed. It was not until the Ky'Dren kingdom had grown fat and expanded over the pass to the north that the barbarians became truly threatened. Humans were weak, one barbarian could take do
wn five, but the dwarves, they were a different foe altogether. Less than half as tall as a barbarian and nearly seven times as strong as the weak humans, the dwarves were like an endless pack of rabid dogs. When a dwarf got something in his head he would see it done, and with Holy Scripture driving their motives none could stand in their way, not even barbarians.

  Attacked from all sides, the barbarians were nearly wiped out. Eldalon wanted what is now known as "The Horn", the northern most tip of Eldalon that looked like a dragon’s horn when viewed on a map. The peninsula was a prime location for fishing, and a key strategic naval base. Shierdon wanted to expand its lands to the west including Lake Eardon, while the dwarves wanted the entire mountain. History had shown the barbarians to be savages, but like the tribal elders remind the children, "history is written by the victors."

  The barbarians, mostly women and children, were loaded up on barges by the hundreds, ripped from their destroyed mountain homes, and sent to the frozen island of Volnoss. It had been the dead of winter. Half of the survivors made it through to spring, living off of buried roots and what fish could be caught in the frozen lakes with braided hair-line and bone hooks.

  The barbarians of Northern Agora, the once proud and prosperous giants, had been reduced to a ragged community of refugees. It would be generations before they would become strong once again. Aurora reminded herself that now was the time. The barbarians of Volnoss had not been this powerful since the days of Talon Windwalker, and how they could use him and his wolf now. It was up to her she knew; she alone could restore her people to their former glory. But who would she use to accomplish her gains, Whill or Eadon? She had sworn friendship to one, and fealty to the latter. Though she no longer felt the power of Eadon within her, she suspected that her vow remained. She had hoped to have been free of it because she had fulfilled her promise; she had tried to kill Abram. But she now knew those to be nothing more than self-told lies, her way of wishing away the promise. She had thought of asking for the elves help in breaking the vow, Whill's even. But that would mean admitting her sins, and that would likely get her killed.

  A rustling broke her out of her trance and she became alert and still. The fires crackled around her, and she was covered in a misty sheen due to the heat. She listened; it came again from behind her, and again from her side. Whatever they were they had her surrounded.

  Aurora stood and unsheathed her sword sending liquid fire dancing up the face of the silver blade. She pulled it at a hard angle to cause it to ring loud and true in the night.

  "I am warrior of the north, Aurora Snowfell of frozen Volnoss. Come forth and bleed with me!" She bellowed into the darkness beyond the dancing firelight that cast shadows thrice.

  The rustling stopped dead and the howl of a large cat sliced through the thick air behind her, she did not flinch. All around her the cries rang out and she began to see sleek black feline forms in the shadows beyond the densely packed spears. Aurora growled back at them and grabbed a spear from the ground and threw it up into the air to catch it at the center of the shaft. She cocked back and led one of the moving shadows. As her muscles tensed for the throw a great growl stopped her dead. She scanned the canopy above her and soon found two fire lit eyes staring down on her from on high. If this pack had a leader, it seemed he was it. The great cat howled again unnaturally loud and Aurora could hear the other cats leaving. Aurora had not left the cats eyes, the feline orbs stared back unwavering. She blinked and the eyes were gone and a shadow was falling through the branches. A large black panther the size of her native timberwolf landed with a shower of sparks upon one of the fires. It did not react to the flames, but gracefully stalked off the wood and around the fire to stare at Aurora. She held fast her spear, ready at a moment's notice to impale the attacking beast, but it did not attack, nor did its demeanor hint to violence. It looked curious. There was intelligence behind those elliptical orbs.

  "You are no cat," said Aurora as she circled the beast. "Show yourself as you were born."

  The wolf leapt onto its hind legs and transformed into a tall elf that she knew instantly. "Azzeal," said Aurora, lowering her spear with a half cocked smile of disappointment. She had hoped for a fight.

  "Aurora Snowfell, warrior of the north." The leaf-clad elf replied with a look to the hanging smoked boar. "Did you get...hungry?"

  "Hungry for the hunt, I assume you understand," she said with a look to the panther tracks that led to his feet.

  She took a seat upon the ground and poked at the fire as he regarded her. "Have you decided?" The elf asked.

  Aurora froze as her eyes shot to his. He regarded her without expression, waiting. She knew that her answer would determine her fate.

  He read my thoughts, he knows everything.

  "Have I decided what?" She asked trying to mask her sudden shock.

  "Do not play games with one so old child," he said as he took a seat opposite her.

  Can I defeat him? She wondered. Surely not, he is a magic user and more versed in combat than I.

  "When you move against my enemies, you will become the instrument of my wrath." Eadon had whispered to her as they sealed the vow with flesh.

  "You have read my thought? Invaded my mind? I thought the elves of the sun shunned such practices," said Aurora.

  Azzeal frowned and shook his head. "No, you were projecting in a language foreign to me. I know only that a great burden haunts your mind."

  "These are dark times elf. Who has not a troubled mind?"

  Azzeal nodded conceding the point. From the fire Aurora took the cooked boar that she had set aside to eat and offered it to Azzeal.

  "Hungry?"

  "I could eat." He replied and tore a piece off nodding his thanks.

  They ate in silence for a time in which Aurora tried to mask her guilt and think only in her native tongue. She did not trust Azzeal, or any of them for that matter. It was hard to get comfortable around people whose personal power was impossible to tell by their appearance. Every second in silence seemed to stretch out impossibly long, becoming that much more awkward to Aurora.

  "The great cats, they respect you, are you their leader?" she asked having to say something.

  Azzeal groaned tearing meat from bone. "No, I run and hunt with them. They know I am elf. They wanted to kill and eat you; they were five in all, Shemba and her four cubs. They are nearly full grown and the two males will soon be banished from their mother's territory. Killing you was to be a right of passage."

  "I did not need to be saved," Aurora replied.

  "Perhaps I was saving the panthers," said Azzeal.

  "You cost me five panther hides then it seems, what coin they would have gotten in Volnoss," Aurora added as she chewed the greasy shank.

  "There is no way to know if you would have lived to sell such hides." Azzeal argued.

  "Cut the dragon shyte elf. You seen me take on draggard bare handed," she proclaimed with a greasy clawed hand. "You interfered in my hunt."

  "On my land," he said with a raised voice. "Consider the conquered hog a gift and speak of it no more."

  Aurora was angry, nearly furious. She did well to keep her breathing slow and deep, and ignored her pounding heart. Little use it likely was. For all she knew the elf could see through to her insides. She felt as an open book to him, and her secret teased like a child echoing her wicked deeds.

  Coward at your back

  "What?" Azzeal asked as if she had said it aloud.

  "Coward," Aurora heard herself say to her horror.

  He cocked his head to the side searching her. Before he could utter question she said quickly. "My tribesmen have a saying, 'always there is a coward at your back.' It is a warning and reminder that the mightiest warrior a coward's dagger will take."

  "You think that I conspire against you?" he asked.

  "I...” she began softly, and then raised her chin, "I do not trust your people."

  "That is understandable; it is best earned is it not? Have I not earned your trus
t?" Azzeal asked gazing deeply into her eyes, the light of the fire dancing upon his.

  "We have drawn sword together, that counts for something," she replied.

  "Indeed," he nodded heavily. "It is not I who you distrust then."

  She averted his gaze pretending to hear something in the night. Acting satisfied that nothing was amiss she tossed the leg bone into the fire and drank deeply of her water skin. Wiping her greasy mouth she looked to Azzeal as if she had forgotten he was there sitting across from her, waiting.

  "I had intended to perform a ritual of my people... it is private, sacred," she informed him as she offered her water skin which he nodded away.

  "Then I shall keep you no further," he said to her utter relief. Her mind was chanting to her again and she had all she could do to not scream for it to shut up.

  "Thank you for the meal," he said with a small bow. She nodded with a smile.

  Azzeal looked up as if to leap into the night but then regarded her again quickly. "If you need help carrying your kill out in the morning I offer mine. I will be out until then."

  Aurora held her composure against the perceived meaning behind the gesture. "Thank you, but I would dishonor my opponent if I did not myself carry it out of the wood."

  "Very well," he nodded and turned again to look at the night. He leapt and spread his arms which became wings that lifted him through the lingering smoke to disappear into the night.

  Aurora gave a sigh of relief as she watched him go. She opened her palm and found that she had drawn blood as she clenched her fist to distract from her thoughts. Relieved, she stripped out of her furs and laid them upon a large stone. She stood naked between the raging fires glistening in the cool night air and began the cleansing chant that would begin her long ritual.

  From the branch of a tree not far from her camp Azzeal watched Aurora with feline eyes as she shuddered and stomped around caught in the throws of her native ritual. He had indeed heard her every thought and he had not needed invade her mind. She spoke within her mind so freely that one had only to listen to hear it. And though she spoke in her native barbarian tongue, he knew her words. He had been an ambassador to Volnoss three hundred years before. Aside from meeting the human "giants" as they were sometimes referred, Azzeal had wanted to see the fabled Icetooth bear that was said to be all white. Such a creature would add well to his shape shifting repertoire. He had studied the bears for two decades, and in that time he learned well the native languages.