by T P Sheehan
Most of all, Magnus’s heart was with Catanya. He wanted more than anything to remain by her side. Now that they were together again Magnus knew her desire more than any other would be to return home—to reunite with her mother and Hannah. With her skills and Magnus’s own they would be of great help in the fight to reclaim their lands. But first he needed to gain the support of the dragons and the Irucantî whose very existence was for the protection of his people. For this reason he could never give up. For this reason he had to reach the Romghold and deal with the High Priests—either through negotiations or otherwise.
Several hours passed as Magnus carried Catanya upstream. The creek was now a broad river bringing with it good coverage along the banks, and so Magnus waded across to the northern side in search of an area to spend the night. He was aware Catanya had not slept for several days and, with her injury, needed it even more so.
He eventually happened across a good area to stop. The land rose to a slight hill affording him uninterrupted views from the east to the southern coast and to the west. Behind them loomed the Black Cliffs and further on he could see the faint glow of lights several miles away. He assumed that was the town of Brindle. Magnus calculated Ba’rrat to be nearly twenty miles back. On this side of the riverbed, Magnus settled on an area with low hanging beech trees that would hide them through the night.
He lowered Catanya onto the soft grass beneath a tree. She lay down and asked Magnus to lie beside her, but he preferred to sit up and keep watch through the night. Catanya rested her head on Magnus’s lap and he shared with her the large cloak Eamon had given him, wrapping it around her. He watched as she fell into a deep sleep. At one point Catanya turned over to her right, revealing the markings over her left temple. Magnus felt the silkiness of the dark hair she allowed to grow over the markings that were still visible.
Magnus looked at her resting eyes, her beautiful face and how content she was. Catanya had confronted the greatest of warriors to find him and save him. And all she wished for in return was to be with him. “Just as you promised me long ago,” Magnus said. Catanya opened one eye and looked to him.
“Hmmm?”
“It’s nothing. Rest Catanya. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
EPILOGUE
The old man woke with a start.
It was how Trager always woke, thanks to the nightmares that plagued his sleep. He sat up in a sweat, grunting through gnashed teeth and cursed the Gods as usual. But this night was different. There was commotion beyond his bedroom quarters and that woke him instead.
“Dermot!” Trager shouted with a shrill tone. “Dermot—what in damnation is going on out there?”
The young servant opened the huge doors that led to the Elder’s sleeping quarters.
“Your Greatness… The city has been breached!”
Trager scrambled out of bed, stumbled across his room and out the door. “Rubbish! Guame’s city walls cannot be breached. And there certainly is no breaching this cathedral. If you’re wrong boy, you’ll hang for waking me.”
“It is true, your Greatness,” Dermot quivered.
Pounding started on a second set of doors across the large gallery. In moments, the doors splintered and flew inward off their hinges.
“What in all the realms is going on?” Trager shouted.
Through the open doorway, six Astermeer horses and their riders charged into the hall and formed rank with three to a side, allowing a seventh to ride between them and approach the Leader of the Authoritarium. Trager looked at the men with their long, blonde hair and dark blue robes that fell by the sides of their white steeds—each of whom stomped angrily.
“Rhydermere!” Trager whispered, his sunken grey eyes widening.
The seventh rider raised an arm and the six Rhyders drew their white Icerealmish swords. A flash of white light danced along the blades of each.
“What is this outrage?” Trager trembled as the Rhydermere elder dismounted and walked toward him. It was a woman. Her blonde hair flowed to her waist and she wore an azure robe that fell to the ground over her pointed grey boots. Her blue eyes—as brilliant as sapphires—stared at Trager.
“What is it you want of me?” Trager demanded.
“Your life.” The woman drew her sword and thrust it into Trager’s heart. His eyes popped from their sockets and his mouth opened wide. The Rhyder twisted her Icerealmish blade making Trager scream in pain. “All members of the Authoritarium are now dead. This day marks the beginning of the Fourth Age of Allumbreve.”
Trager stared at her in disbelief. “I know you…” he stammered through bloody lips. “You are Bonstaph’s wife!”
“I am Alavia. And I take your place as ruler of the four realms…”
THE END
Table of Contents
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
MAGNUS
BONSTAPH
CATANYA
XAVIER
PRIESTHOOD
NUYAN RIVER
RUN
SARAH
CHASE
HEALERS
THE ROMGHOLD
FROUGHTON FOREST
CREATURE OF THE VALLEY
EAMON
CLEANSING
SIX THIEVES
THE HUGMDAEL INN
GUAME
AUTHORITARIUM
TRAINING
DECEPTIONS
THE YOUNGLING
RUBEA
CONFRONTATION
ELECTUS
INAUGURATION
AWAKENINGS
JAEL
SOUTHERN PLAINS
BA’RRAT
FERUSTIR
THE ARENA
BAD TIDINGS
ONE HUNDRED
WAITING
CARLO
REPERCUSSIONS
BREAK IN
BREAK OUT
ESCAPE
DELVION
DAWN
SORCERER
FÄRGD
SEPARATE WAYS
STEYNE
THE EASTERN WALL
A GATHERING
BRUE
JOFFREN
FAREWELL
BEYOND BA’RRAT
EPILOGUE
