Dark Lords of Epthelion Trilogy:Warrior Queen of Ha-Ran-Fel, A Dark Moon Rises, Castle of Blood

by Sandra Kopp

  “I am sure of it.” Davon frowned. “Where is Angyar?”

  They found the old Wyar on his feet near a neighboring thicket. His eyes glistened with tears as he stumbled forward and clasped Arris’ hand. “You have saved us,” he said brokenly.

  “Not by myself,” Arris told him. “Davon provided clues needed to defeat this enemy. No sword could have done it.”

  “All of them—gone.” Davon darted a look around.

  “Yes. This time for good,” Arris replied.

  “Nedra?” Angyar ventured.

  “I daresay she is gone as well.” Arris paused as another horse nickered from behind him. Davon burst into laughter as Trevor trotted to him.

  “Where did he come from?” Arris asked, turning to look behind him. A bloody, ragtag group that included Charles, Edwin, Marcos and Bertrand now approached, followed by an army of silent Rauths and a small Liedoran army headed by King Theodus. The entire company appeared dazed, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

  Arris sprang to greet his friends. Though wounded, they all seemed well enough. Theodus’ arrival had effectively drawn the Rauths’ attention away before the castle’s demise, saving them all.

  Arris surveyed the company. His eyes rested upon Theodus. “I can understand the Rauths’ presence,” he said, “but why have you come?”

  “We traveled to Valhalea to apprehend The Fox,” Theodus returned, his steely gaze fixed upon Bertrand. “Only we quickly found we’d been duped. As we traveled back, we posted notices for his capture, and a reliable informer in Garris advised us he had taken a band into Madmarose on his way to Barren-Fel. So we followed.”

  “Which is what we hoped for, knowing we faced an enemy that we alone could not withstand.” Bertrand’s lips tightened into a thin line.

  Marcos gestured toward the castle’s former site. “What happened here?”

  “With Davon’s help I opened the Vortex and issued the command to transport it, its founder and all pertaining to him into the dark void in the farthest reaches of the cosmos,” Arris answered.

  Marcos regarded him narrowly. “Its founder being. . .”

  “Anhuapta.”

  “Then Nedra is also gone.” Marcos stared at the ground, a hand planted on his hip.

  “It would seem so,” Arris returned quietly.

  Hans sighed quietly, and Arris laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Marcos and Hans both shook their heads and Marcos continued, “She sold herself to the demon. There could be no redemption.”

  A Rauth elder stepped up. “What do we do now? We have neither leader nor our sacred valley.” He fixed Arris a hard stare. “What about you? You had power to banish the demon. You could lead us.”

  Arris shook his head. “I am no king, but. . .” He shifted his gaze to Angyar. “How about one who has proven his devotion to Barren-Fel and its people; one who is wise, experienced, and capable, and not an outsider. It is time Barren-Fel was ruled by one of its own.” He cocked his head. “What about you, Angyar?”

  Angyar shook his head, stammering. “Me? Oh, no, I have failed so many times.”

  “As have we all,” Charles returned. “But we learned. Failure is never truly failure unless you give up.”

  Tears rolled down Angyar’s cheeks. “But the lives I have lost. . .”

  “War costs lives,” Theodus told him. His eyes swept the group as he motioned to some of those standing there. “Marcos knows, as do officers among the Rauths and Liedorans. I know. How many nights have I lain awake? No, my friend, death takes those whose time has come. Chastise yourself no longer. Lead your people.”

  “If they will have me,” Angyar returned.

  “While you are here. . .” Hans turned to Theodus. “Liedor holds land sacred to Barren-Fel, prime farmland that once grew their food and supported their flocks and herds. Every other kingdom in Epthelion received back what war had taken—except Barren-Fel.”

  A murmur rose among the Rauths and Hans continued, “Do you blame their unrest? Losing the Rauwyar Valley has reduced them to beggary. Has Liedor not enough farmland already? Can we not afford the people of Barren-Fel the same respect we have afforded everyone else?”

  The murmurs ceased. The Rauths fixed their eyes upon Theodus. The king drew a deep breath, staring at the ground as he pondered. “It has been many years,” he said finally, “and Liedor is firmly entrenched in that valley. However—” he looked up again. “I think, too, the time has come to restore what was wrongfully taken. As soon as I reach Langhorn I shall convene the council and discuss withdrawing our settlers from Rauwyar and returning the valley to Barren-Fel.”

  The elder regarded him narrowly. “You will discuss. That means nothing!”

  “Liedor is tired of war. Fortius had considered returning the valley to Ryadok, but Ryadok had his own plans.” Theodus paused. “Our council will meet, and I will issue an edict that the settlers leave Rauwyar and settle within our own borders.”

  “And if those settlers rebel?” the elder pressed.

  “Then our army will remove them.” Theodus swept his gaze across the Rauths. “The decree shall go out within two weeks.”

  Bertrand stepped forward and offered Theodus a short bow. “You did right.” He paused, and for a moment studied the king’s face. “But before you go, and in the presence of these witnesses: I am no traitor, thief or murderer, neither do I seek a throne nor to topple anyone else off theirs. I wish only to rebuild my life and live in whatever peace life allows.”

  “We vouch for him.” Edwin indicated himself and Charles. “I know no finer man nor one more honorable.”

  “Aye, that may be,” Theodus conceded. “Time will tell.”

  “You know me,” Bertrand protested. “We stood together in battle.”

  “That we did.” Theodus pondered a moment and finally clicked his tongue. “Very well, I grant you my pardon. May you live in peace.” He raised a warning brow. “But at the first sign of trouble—”

  “I’m growing old. There will be no trouble,” Bertrand assured him.

  “We will await word of your decree.” The Rauth elder bowed shortly and turned to his army. Raising his hand, he issued a command in the language of Barren-Fel. Without another word, they retreated into the forest.

  “Well.” Marcos managed a smile. “I want to go home and we’ve a long road ahead. Best get started. Farewell and Godspeed to all, along with my thanks for standing with us.”

  “I can have you home in a moment,” Arris told him. “All of you, separate into groups according to where you wish to go.”

  The men murmured as they exchanged questioning looks. Arris waved a hand. “Go on, do it—unless you would rather journey the next ten days.”

  Quickly the woodsmen and Little People gathered together, as did the Liedorans and then Bertrand and his men. Charles, Hans and Edwin stood apart.

  Arris shouted, “Corridor, open and await.”

  Immediately the swirling tube appeared. Arris smiled. “Who’s first?”

  EPILOGUE

  Davon’s eyes misted as he took his infant daughter from her Grandmama’s arms and cradled her ever so tenderly. “Welcome, Eudoria Rose,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful, just like your mother.” His face glowed softly with love and devotion as he smiled at Felicia, who was propped up in bed. She had never looked lovelier. The late morning sun pouring in through the open window highlighted her golden hair, which softly framed her face before cascading down across the shoulders of her pink satin robe. Her wide blue eyes sparkled and her silvery laughter filled the room as Davon, filled with wonder at the miracle he had fathered, almost touched his daughter’s forehead and then drew back.

  “Go ahead, sweetest, touch her. She won’t break. I promise.” Felicia chuckled and smoothed the blanket across her lap. “She inherited much of her beauty from her father. See? She has your eyes and hair.”

  Davon blushed and sat down in a chair beside Fel
icia’s bed. He smiled down at his daughter and traced a fingertip along her cheek, then tenderly stroked her light blonde hair which, while quite short, already showed signs of a wave. “What a miracle! I can scarcely believe I am holding you at last!”

  The entire Marchant family had gathered in Felicia’s room at the healing house in Aerie, looking on as Davon beheld his daughter for the first time. According to Baldimora, Felicia had given birth at the exact moment Davon had been expelled from the castle wall.

  Arris wrapped his arm around Merewyn’s shoulders and pulled her close. Their son, Jonah, sat on Grandpapa Ramon’s lap, playing with his favorite stuffed bunny. Grandmama Eudoria and Angelika sat beside Felicia’s bed, while across the room Baldimora looked on.

  “The healers tell me they were able to correct the condition that necessitated your being here, so you’ll not have such trouble with your next child,” Baldimora told Felicia. “You can look forward to a large family, if that is your wish.”

  Felicia blushed and exchanged glances with Davon, who also blushed. A ripple of laughter arose from the group.

  “You chose a beautiful name,” Arris remarked. Sensing Baldimora’s scrutiny then, he switched his focus there. Baldimora motioned toward the door. Arris excused himself and followed his mentor into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

  “You did well.” Baldimora folded his arms while supporting his staff with the fingers of one hand.

  “I cannot take all the credit,” Arris returned. “Davon sent messages to me confirming I had chosen the right course of action. Had he been there alone he could have accomplished exactly what I did.” He paused, frowning. “How did Davon know about cosmic voids and such?”

  Baldimora smiled wryly. “As you remarked yourself once, Davon possesses Arganian traits. He conceived the plan while a prisoner of the Anathahites and managed to banish all four. They’ll not return. Neither will Anhuapta nor his confederates.”

  “The serpent is gone then.”

  Baldimora nodded. “Yes, for all eternity. He and all allegiant to him have entered the black void to which you sent them. They grope in the darkness, each individual totally alone and unaware that anyone else is there with them. A sad plight, but well deserved.”

  “Nedra, too?”

  “Nedra, too. ‘Tis a pity, her father was a noble man. But some things can’t be helped. She chose her own destiny.”

  Arris sighed. “I hated to tell Angyar I could not bring his brother or his countrymen back.”

  “Their time had come. We can’t restore everything. Angyar will prove an able ruler, the best Barren-Fel ever had. Already both Rauths and Wyars have embraced him, and Theodus is making good on his word. The Liedorans are leaving Rauwyar.”

  Arris hung his head. “Hans.”

  “I know. His heart has been broken. He will remain among his friends at Garris for a while, and then I think you can expect him in Teptiel.” Baldimora smiled. “I hear he has expressed an interest in Sarah Greene.”

  “Melinda’s mother. How wonderful.”

  For a moment they remained silent, and then Arris impulsively knelt on one knee before his mentor. “Thank you, Baldimora. You enabled me to accomplish what I never could have on my own.”

  “Get up,” Baldimora said dryly, motioning him to his feet. “You need not bow to me. You have proven yourself a man of honor and integrity. May you live in peace.”

  Arris rose. “Thank you.”

  “The healers will release Felicia tomorrow. Enjoy yourselves tonight. And Arris. . .” Baldimora raised his brows “. . .don’t forget us. Come and visit once in a while.”

  “I shall.”

  Arris opened the door to Felicia’s room, and he and Baldimora stepped inside.

  THE END

  Dark Lords of Epthelion

  (Three Book Bundle)

  By

  Sandra Kopp

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Warrior Queen of Ha-Ran-Fel ©2013 by Sandra Kopp

  A Dark Moon Rises © 2013 by Sandra Kopp

  Castle of Blood © 2017 by Sandra Kopp

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