The Beasts of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 2)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “You may be right, Ian,” Sarena observed. “However, they have risked angering Andor.”

  “That's a point, dear lady,” the dwarf ceded. “For the moment, we have to accept that we don't have any answers. At this point, we only have questions.”

  “Well, as bemusing as those questions might be, I have a more practical one,” Tealor asserted. “What are we going to do if we run into another one? That was too close for my comfort. If I hadn't severed the beast's head when I did, we might not have Darian with us now.”

  “That's also an excellent point,” Ian mused. “I wish we were better armed.”

  “As do I,” Tealor nodded. “Darian's sword is more than a match for them, but the rest of us are rather ill equipped. Fortune, the Eilian, or both smiled on us. In the past, of course, I’ve simply relied on my dear wife's talents to destroy them. However, trolls that are warded against fire is something new.”

  “All we can do is press on and hope that we don't run into another one,” Ian responded. “In future, I plan to advise Lord Andor to purchase some superior weaponry from my people.”

  “I'm glad we're back together,” Gwendolyn smiled. “I was missing you already.”

  “In truth,” the fair ranger replied, “I was already beginning to miss you, as well.”

  “Yes,” the knight agreed. “It may only be for a few days, but it's nice just the same. Oh, and Kilren, while I'm thinking about it; what's this fix you're in?”

  “Fix?!” the elvish maid exclaimed.

  “I didn't say that,” the rogue replied instantly. “Ian said fix! I didn't say fix!”

  “Well, what is it?” The knight chucked.

  “Yes, Kilren,” Erana said, leaning as far away from the rogue as she could and crossing her arms. “What is this fix you're in?”

  “Well,” the rogue sighed, “I can only suppose that Ian meant that it might be difficult for me to get permission from Erana's father. Of course, I can only suppose that, because I didn't say it. Ian did!”

  “Permission for what?” Darian asked.

  “Oh,” Erana said in softer tones, wrapping her arms once again around the handsome young rogue. “Yes... I suppose that does qualify as a fix...”

  “Permission for what?” the Telian repeated.

  “Well,” the elvish maiden said with a slight blush, “Kilren has asked me to marry him. And, I've accepted.”

  “Congratulations!” Gwendolyn and Darian replied simultaneously.

  “Thank you,” the rogue said with a slight crack in his voice.

  “When do you plan to have the wedding?” Gwendolyn asked.

  “We can't be sure,” the elvish ranger replied, putting her chin on the shoulder of her beloved with a sigh. “It all depends on getting my father's permission.”

  “Well, that shouldn't be a problem,” the young knight observed. “I'll put in a good word for Kilren myself. The word of a Telian should carry a lot of weight on such a subject.”

  “You may be right!” Erana agreed. “My father has the utmost respect for your order.”

  “Also,” Gwendolyn began, “he helped rescue me and he's saved your life more than once.”

  “His father owns an inn in Mikral city,” Darian pointed out, turning his gaze to the young rogue. “At least, I think he does. That was true, wasn't it Kilren?”

  “What?” the rogue said, jerking slightly at the sound of his name. “Yes. Yes, of course. My father owns a large inn right in the middle of Mikral city. My parents make a fortune. Running an inn just isn't my...”

  “So, that should be a mark in his favor,” the human maiden jumped in. “It shows his family is stable. You know, sturdy.”

  At the word sturdy, Kilren's eye shot a glance at a nearby tree.

  “I agree,” the knight nodded. “I mean I don't suppose any man would want his daughter to marry some wandering...”

  Here, the Telian paused as he considered his friend.

  “Adventurer... I guess you'd call him,” he said.

  “I think he would make a good father,” Gwendolyn added with a nod.

  “Father?” the rogue asked, sitting bolt upright in the saddle.

  “I mean: in time, obviously,” the maiden giggled. “Look at how you made sure Rragor was taken care of before you were. That says something about you, Kilren. It really does. In some ways, Rragor is like Erana's child and you put him first.”

  “Child?” the rogue asked quietly, swallowing after he spoke. “I never really thought of him as a child.”

  “Well, maybe not a child,” Erana agreed, “but, Gwendolyn still makes a very good point. I think you're going to make an excellent father.”

  The beautiful elvish maiden gently tightened her grip around the handsome young rogue's chest as she spoke.

  “Honestly, I don't think you have anything to worry about,” Gwendolyn assured the couple. “In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you two were wed before the end of the summer.”

  As she said this, she turned her smiling eyes to Kilren.

  “Are you alright?” she asked with a note of sincere concern in her voice. “You're covered in sweat.”

  “I'm fine!” the rogue exclaimed with a rising inflection. “Just a little over heated, that's all.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry, dear,” Erana replied, slightly loosening her grip.

  “Sir Darian,” Tealor called over his shoulder. “Could you come up here for a moment?”

  “Of course,” the knight replied kicking his horse into a trot. “But, there's no need to call me Sir.”

  “Presently, I respectfully disagree, sir,” the large warrior said as soon as Darian was within easy hearing. “These trolls have me concerned. They can almost ignore normal weapons and my sword is no match for them.”

  “You just cut one's head off less than an hour ago,” the Telian pointed out.

  “Well, that's true,” Tealor agreed with a chuckle, “but, the Eilian were with me. Trust me, Sir Darian, I know when I've gotten lucky – and that was a lucky blow. It was lucky for all of us. We can't count on that again. We have to be better prepared in future.”

  “Alright, Captain,” he replied. “What do you suggest?”

  “I think it would be best if we traded swords for the time being.”

  “Trade swords?” the Telian asked with obvious hesitation in his voice.

  “Yes, sir,” the warrior replied. “Your blade is clearly superior to my own and, with all due respect, I am clearly the better warrior.”

  “Well,” the knight replied, drawing his sword. “If you want my sword...”

  “No, sir,” Tealor interrupted, shaking his head. “This situation is not just a matter of you and me, Sir Darian. This is a military situation and the decision is a tactical one. You are less than half my age, and you don't have nearly half my experience. However, you are a Telian and my commanding officer. It's not enough to do what I want you to. You should do what you truly believe is best. I've given you my counsel. Now, what is your decision?”

  The naked blade still in his hand, the young knight drew a coin from his saddle bag. He asked the Eilian for guidance before flipping it into the air. Heads. Darian handed the sword to the powerful warrior beside him.

  “I also have a question, Sir Darian,” Ian said.

  “Ian,” Darian shook his head, “there really is no reason for you to call me sir.”

  “Sir Darian,” the warrior interrupted, “as a captain in your service, I request that you stop saying that. You're in command here and that is something we all – and especially you – don't need to forget. Ian and I are both wise enough to know when to treat you as our commander and when to treat you as a boy. I'm sorry I had to interrupt, Ian. Please, continue.”

  “Not at all, Captain, not at all,” Ian smiled. “Now, Sir Darian, my point of concern is Nathan. Do you know what was wrong with him?”

  “Not exactly,” the knight replied thoughtfully. “I asked the Eilian to heal him and they did. However, I can't be
certain what the cause of his illness was. If I had to guess, I would say that he was sick or had possibly caught some disease.”

  “That was my thought,” Ian nodded. “It was also my fear.”

  “Why?” Darian asked.

  “I'm not sure,” the bard said shaking his head. “I need to consider it. In any event, we need to keep it in mind.”

  “Alright,” the Telian nodded. “Oh, and before I forget; Gwendolyn wants to know if you have a book about gallantry with you.”

  “Gwendolyn wants a book about gallantry?” Ian asked slowly.

  “She does.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea...” the knight answered, shaking his head.

  “Well, no, lad,” the bard chuckled. “Surprisingly, I didn't think I would need one...”

  The rogue and his bride-to-be had moved ahead to ride alongside the warrior and his wife for the time being. The valiant Telian, for his part, had once again taken up his position by the fair young maiden.

  “So,” Gwendolyn said turning her gaze to the young knight, “Kilren and Erana are getting married...”

  “Looks that way,” Darian nodded.

  “Does that give you any ideas, Sir Darian?” she asked.

  After a few moment's consideration, the knight spoke.

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose it does. He hasn't asked me, though. Not yet, anyway.”

  “What?” the maiden asked after a brief pause.

  “Kilren,” the knight replied. “He hasn't asked me to be his best man yet. Not that I'll be offended if he doesn't. I mean; he may want to ask Tealor or Ian or somebody we don't even know. On the other hand, we're very nearly the same age and I think I'd make a good best man. Of course, they might not have best men in elvish weddings. I don't know much about it. Do you think they'll get married in an elvish ceremony? I mean: is there even any difference? I don't know if there is or not. Best elf? That doesn't sound right. Even if he's an elf, he's still a man. Best man would certainly still apply in my...”

  “That's not what I'm talking about,” the maiden interrupted, shaking her head.

  “Oh, of course,” the knight chuckled after a moment's thought. “Still, I don't know if they have maids of honor, either. They probably do. Of course, that's if they're even going to get married in an elvish ceremony. If there is, after all, any difference between that and a human ceremony. Either way, why don't you just ask Erana? I'm sure she can tell you.”

  “You know, I think I do have some questions for her,” Gwendolyn agreed. “It's obvious she knows something that I don't.”

  “Well, of course she does!” The Telian agreed with a laugh. “About elvish culture and her own wedding? She would just about have to!”

  “Did you ask Ian about that book?”

  “I did,” the knight nodded. “He doesn't have one with him.”

  “Well, that is most unfortunate!”

  Chapter 3: An Unpleasant Surprise

  A few hours later, the party drew near the village of Dalfaen. Even though they would only be passing through, Darian was truly looking forward to it. Just over a week ago, he had visited his first elvish village and had found the experience remarkable. The elves gently bent nature to their will; living alongside it in a way most humans couldn't fathom. It was incredible to behold. As the band drew closer and closer to its destination, the young knight unconsciously crept ahead of his companions; eagerly anticipating his first glimpse of the little hamlet.

  The sight that met his eyes was neither expected nor welcome. The village had been attacked – recently, it seemed. Smoke rose slowly into the air from a number of homes that had been burned to the ground. Elvish bodies littered the area, along with debris from smashed doors and shattered windows. Soldiers and citizens alike lay lifeless on the ground, without respect to age or gender. This had been much more than an attack; it had been a massacre.

  The Telian involuntary brought his mount to a standstill as he surveyed the scene; his heart pounding is his chest as rage filled his soul. His mind struggled with what his eyes beheld. He, who the Eilian worked through, who could wield the power of the gods, was too late. Why? The questioned circled through his mind with a speed that almost sickened the young knight. Why hadn't the Eilian guided him here earlier? Why did he have to witness this? Nothing could be done now. Had he been sent as a tool of vengeance, rather than as an agent of mercy?

  As he sat in silent contemplation, his companions approached. Erana cried out as her eyes fell on the smoldering ruins and lifeless bodies. The entire party instantly broke into gallop; flying toward the center of the village. In less than a minute, the band had brought their steeds to a stop in the very heart of the tiny hamlet. Nathan gazed over the scene in silent grief.

  Erana slid from behind her love and stumbled toward one of the nearest bodies. On the earth before her were the broken remains of one of Dalfaen's elders. His body lay as it had fallen; in an unnatural heap with a deep cut running across the back of his head. The elvish maiden's head jerked from one side to another as tears ran down her face and her mind slowly processed the atrocities they beheld. At last, she dropped to her knees at the side of the corpse; her slender frame shaking with the force of her sobs.

  The young rogue was at her side in an instant. He knelt at her side and gently ran his hand across her back. The elvish maiden turned to her betrothed; burying her face in his chest as tears poured from her grief-stricken eyes. Rragor had followed close behind his mistress with his tail tucked beneath him. He lay beside the pair and whined softly as an offering of comfort. Gwendolyn quickly dismounted and moved over to the couple to offer what comfort she could. She bent over; laying her face on the back of the ranger's head with tears streaming down her own cheeks.

  “We need to find whoever did this!” the young knight exclaimed, drawing his sword as he spoke. “Tealor, in which direction have they fled?”

  The large warrior turned to the Telian with a grim look in his eyes.

  “I doubt they fled,” he replied, shaking his head. “We can't follow them. Not at the moment, at least.”

  “We can and we will,” Darian asserted.

  “Sir Darian...” Ian began.

  “We have to find them, Ian!” the young Telian yelled with tears of rage welling up in his eyes. “They have to pay for this!”

  “Pay for this, Sir Darian?” Ian asked, shaking his head. “Vengeance is not the province of mortals. Not even of the Telian.”

  “This has nothing to do with vengeance!” the knight vehemently replied, his angry gaze directed at the bard. “This is a matter of justice.”

  “Justice doesn't strike blindly,” Ian replied. “Nor does it strike in anger.”

  For a moment, the knight sat silently; his brows knitted and his jaws clenched.

  “You're right,” he nodded, sliding his sword back into its scabbard. “However, we still have to find those responsible for this atrocity!”

  “Perhaps we do in time, Sir Darian,” Tealor replied. “However, right now, we have other duties to attend to. Our primary objective has to be reaching King Illfas alive.”

  “That's true,” Darian agreed after a moment's consideration; his short, quick breaths revealing the fury burning in his veins. “Before we leave, we need to attend to these... bodies. We can't just leave them like this.”

  “We don't have time...” the warrior began.

  “We have to!” Erana cried, lifting her tear covered face from the chest of her love. “We can't just leave them like this!”

  “No, and we won't,” the Telian replied firmly.

  Tealor took a deep breath, his eyes locked on those of the young knight.

  “Darian,” he said, “we can't save the dead. But, we can save the living. We have to let King Illfas know what's happened here.”

  “So, we should just leave them?” Darian asked, throwing his hands up. “Leave them like carrion for whatever hungry beast happens to wander along.”

  �
��They're already dead, Darian!” Tealor exclaimed. “You have to accept that. Whatever army did this – and you can be certain it was an army of some kind – isn't likely to stop with a single village! There are more people in danger – right now. At this very moment! It's your duty to try to save them! What happened here is done. It's over!”

  “He's right, lad,” Ian added. “We can think of the dead after the living are safe.”

  “I just wish there were something – anything – we could do,” Darian lamented.

  “I think, noble knight, that there is,” Sarena said before turning to her husband. “I know time is short and that we must hurry, my love. However, I feel we should at least search for survivors; no matter how slim the chances are of finding any.”

  “Of course, dear heart,” the warrior nodded. “We certainly can't leave anyone living behind. We need to be cautious, though. We don't know where the enemy is or how long they've been gone.”

  “Indeed, my love,” she nodded. “Sir Darian, command us.”

  “What do you advise, Captain?” the Telian asked.

  “First, we need to be ready to flee instantly if anything happens,” Tealor began. “We may be the only ones who know what's happened here. We can't risk our lives before we get word to the king.”

  “I agree,” Ian nodded.

  “Second, we need to stay relatively close together,” the captain continued, “but fan out enough to conduct a thorough search quickly. The hard part is going to be checking each of these victims for signs of life.”

  “I can do that very quickly,” the knight interjected.

  “Excellent,” Tealor replied. “We also need to search the remaining houses just in case. So, Kilren and I will go through the buildings while Darian tries to find survivors. Sarena, my love, I want you and Ian to stay with the horses. Keep Gwendolyn and Erana here...”

  “No!” the elvish maiden interrupted. “No, I want to stay with Kilren.”

  “Of course,” the warrior nodded. “Well then, you help him. Nathan, if you're willing, you can come with me.”