"Thank you all for coming. It is a grave time for us all, but we must start making plans for action against those who have attacked us,” King Brightblade said.
"Your Majesty,” King William said, “You must know that the realm of Aluria will stand beside you and not just because of the Pact between Westfell and the Forest."
"We will accept your assistance, King of Aluria, and welcome it. But first, we must clear the air about one thing. The Pact between Westfell and the Veil is dead. Our son, Crown Prince Rorrick, is now heir to both lands, so the pact is superfluous.
"Furthermore, unless we work together to defeat the great enemy that gathers even now to strike against us both, our lands will be destroyed. Windwalker, please explain to our guests what you have determined."
Windwalker said, “King Alaric's murder was not committed by human hands, King William. He and his guards were literally torn to pieces by a savage force of great evil. We believe our enemy has used the darkest of magics to raise a demon from the underworld."
Rory interjected, “That would explain the foulness I felt as we passed by the place where my grandfather was slain. I sensed such a depraved evil that I had no choice but to shield myself from it."
"Is such a thing possible?” asked Duke Richard. “I've always dismissed such things as folklore and fable."
"It is indeed possible,” Queen Arianna replied. “Long ago, before men came to these lands, there was a horrific war between the Forces of Life and those of the Dark. During those dreadful times, evil sorcerers began to plumb the depths of the darkest magic and unleashed forces from the underworld. Demons, goblins, imps, and others roamed the world, degrading and killing the Forces of Life. This war devastated the land and reduced the Great Forest that covered most of it to this small pocket inside the area you call Westfell. Through the sacrifice of a great many fey, the Forces of the Dark were defeated and the denizens of the underworld were banished."
"Do you know who is behind this now?” King William asked.
"While we suspect the real source is beyond the borders of Aluria, we believe they have established a foothold in Eastfell,” King Brightblade replied. “The dark figure in the shroud Rory described killing in Solange was probably one of their minor sorcerers. The blood rites Rory described are a common practice of the Dark."
"Then it is past time we put things in order within our realm,” King William said. “We will march on Eastfell as soon as we can call out the armies of Westfell and Aluria."
"As much as you would wish it so, it is too late to march on them now,” Queen Arianna said. “It is already moving into autumn and by the time we would all be prepared, winter would be upon us. It is far better to use this time to prepare and march in the spring. In the meantime, the mages of the Veil will do what we can to ferret out what we will face once we cross into Eastfell."
* * * *
King William knew he had to return immediately to Aluria, but was hesitant to say anything because he knew this would pressure Rory and Bethany into leaving as well. He was sitting off to one side of the dining area, sipping a tankard of the excellent ale, brooding about his dilemma when Winterstar and Duke Richard approached him.
"May we intrude, sire?” Duke Richard asked. “Lord Winterstar has a suggestion I would like to put before you."
"By all means, Richard, have a seat. You, too, Lord Winterstar,” King William said. “We were just sitting here enjoying this excellent ale."
"Sire, I know you must be eager to return to the queen and begin organizing for the campaign in the spring. I, too, have obligations in Westfell that must be addressed, even as General Gustav prepares the Wolves for the upcoming battle. Lord Winterstar has suggested he lead a party of his rangers as an escort to accompany us to Westfell. Rory has responsibilities that prevent him from leaving right now, and this would permit him to remain here in the Veil,” Duke Richard said. “As much as I am enjoying the hot springs and the wonderful ale, I really feel we must get back, although not, I pray, at the frantic pace we set coming here."
"You must have been reading our mind, old friend, because we too feel we must head back but we were loathe to suggest it so soon for fear of offending our hosts. Who likes a guest that rejects one's hospitality?"
"Only those who have never had one that stayed beyond their welcome, Highness,” replied the gruff Winterstar. “King Brightblade is aware of your conflicted emotions and bids me say to you that he understands your desires to return to your queen and your realm. He also extends to you an invitation to return with your queen at some future, happier time."
"Thank your king for his gracious understanding and welcome invitation. We would indeed like to bring Beatrice here some day after the birth of our heir and this trouble in Eastfell is put to rout. When can we leave?"
"I would suggest we depart in the morning after a night of fine ale, good food, some singing and many stories told under the stars,” Winterstar said. “That way we will be on the road with lighter hearts, although perhaps aching heads."
"Agreed.” Then the King of Aluria laughed. “Care for some more ale while you tell us about your rangers?"
"Better still, we will have a lot of ale and I will tell you about Prince Rorrick in the Kendrahl Mountains. I was there and saw it all. Then you can tell me about the rescue of the beautiful Bethany."
* * * *
Princess Bethany. What an odd feeling that name gave her as she rolled it around in her mind. As a girl growing up, the highest she dared to dream was a match with the son of a duke, and that had appeared to be limited to Eastfell. She had many a nightmare about just that; being married off to that slimy, self-centered, egotistical cretin. When she was chosen to accompany Queen Beatrice for the state funeral of the Duke of Eastfell, she had seen that time had not improved the new duke; in fact, he had gotten even worse. Then had come the news that the Duke of Westfell had returned from his self-imposed exile, accompanied by a new heir of the same age as Bethany. She recalled the shy young man she had met last year and that first hesitant, tentative kiss; the first for each of them. Now he was both the Heir of Westfell and the Crown Prince of the Forest and she was his wife, Princess Bethany of the Forest. She sighed, a moment of sheer happiness at how things had turned out. Oh, there was a dark side. War was coming to Aluria; a frightful civil war against Eastfell and whatever dark powers were now ruling through the boy duke. Although she knew her husband was a fearsome warrior few could prevail against, as well as a mage whose powers hardly any could surpass, she also realized people died in wars, and Rory could be among them. It was imperative, in her mind, that she complete one important task before spring: she must conceive his child to provide an heir for both great houses.
* * * *
Rory saw the somber look on his wife's face so at odds with the happy sigh he had heard seconds before and he knew she must be thinking about the impending war. He said, “As I stand here and look at you in your new silk gown with the firelight beyond, I can't help but wonder whether you realize your body's outline is quite visible from where I am standing."
"Is there anyone else standing there with you?"
"No."
"Then it's all right that you can see me. Husband, after appearing before over one hundred men clad in gossamer that revealed every inch of me, the fact someone can see the outline of my body holds no terror for me.” Turning to face him, she added, “Is the view any better this way? The only person who matters to me is you, husband. We could bathe with the entire population of the Veil and it would not embarrass me one bit because I know deep inside, you find me beautiful and desirable. I say, let them all see and envy their prince, just as I gloat that you are mine when I see the eyes of other women follow you."
Rory took her in his arms. “Ah, Bethany, I am so glad you came into my life. We should join the others. Both King William and Duke Richard will be leaving in the morning and we will remain here for a while, probably through the winter, for there is work I must do in the Heart to prepare for the wa
r to come. Will you mind missing the Winter Festival?"
"I am content to be at your side, my husband,” Bethany said, her arms around his waist. She looked up at his face, and added with an impish grin, “Of course we will stay here until it is time to go against Eastfell. You promised me a long time ago we would spend our winters in the Veil, remember? And I intend to hold you to that promise!"
* * * *
They had all gathered to escort King William and Duke Richard through the Veil. When the king reached to remove his mithrail talisman, Queen Arianna said “Keep it, William, as a token of the new bond of trust between our people. You will need it again when you bring your queen to visit us someday. The same goes for you, Duke Richard of Westfell. The hospitality of the Veil is open to you at any time."
Winterstar rode up at the head of a company of twenty elven rangers. “Are you ready, Your Majesty?"
As he climbed into his saddle, Duke Richard asked, “Won't we need blindfolds?"
Winterstar laughed. “No, Your Grace. That is only needed on the way in to get past the glamour that hides the Veil. On the way out, the glamour will guide your horses on the safest and quickest path to reach the Tower of the Pact and the road to Westfell."
"Just not too quickly,” grumbled the Duke. “I feel every one of my sixty-three years when I am on the back of a horse, especially after all that ale last night."
"Grandfather, just remember to ask the house pixies and they will take you to the spa underneath Westfell."
As they group rode off, Queen Arianna began to chuckle. Bethany looked at her and asked what she found so amusing. “Did you see the look on Winterstar's face when the duke grumbled about his age? Winterstar just celebrated his two hundred and tenth birthday. The youngest member of that group of rangers is seventy-five years old. Imagine the duke's reaction to that!” With that, they all began to laugh as they reentered the Veil.
Chapter 30
Bethany stretched in the early morning sunshine that lay softly across the sheets of her empty bed. “Elona, where is my husband?"
The wood nymph stepped out of the wall and said, “He has gone to the Heart, Princess. He said he would be there all day, just as he has been for the last six weeks."
"Humph,” Bethany muttered, “the one thing I never considered is what I can do to occupy my time while he is working in the Heart. I suppose I could go for a walk but even in this beautiful place, that has gotten old fairly quickly.” She looked out the window at the perfect day outside. “I suppose Queen Arianna is also in the Heart."
"Yes, she is. All the mages are inside still trying to penetrate the wall of darkness that now hides Eastfell from our gaze."
"I suddenly feel very useless, Elona. Other than being a willing bedmate and confidante for my husband when he needs me to be, what skills do I have to offer to this war? I'm no mage like the queen nor a warrior to take up arms against the Dark. I always thought I would be of some use to my husband when I married. I am well versed in running an estate and a household, but here, I can do neither. I can sew and prepare good meals, yet that is done for us by the pixies and sprites. I can play the lute but compared to the music here, my abilities are modest indeed.” Bethany sat down at her dressing table, suddenly overwhelmed by her perceived inadequacies.
"Do you, for one minute, think the prince feels that way, Bethany? He would scold you if he could see you right now. Of course, once he realized the reason for this mood swing, he would be shouting his happiness for all to hear."
"What are you talking about, Elona?"
"The baby you carry, of course. When were you planning to tell him? This will bring great joy to both lands, Princess. Babies are rare in the Veil and each one is treasured by everyone."
"Are you sure, Elona?” Bethany asked, hopeful her dream was coming true.
"Quite sure, Princess. We hamadryads can sense growing things and what else is a baby if not another growing thing? I would say you are about six weeks along, which means it was conceived the night of your coronation.” Elona smiled a little wickedly. “That makes sense as you were both very lusty that night!"
"Elona! Do you spy on us?"
"Princess, I see everything that happens in and around this tree, whether I wish to or not. For example, right now there is a squirrel running along one of my branches carrying another hazelnut to add to his collection. He'd better hurry because a hawk has seen him and thinks the squirrel would make a tasty treat. Ah, the squirrel found his hole just in time to avoid the hawk. Some things, like loud cries and squeals, attract my attention. How was I to know that at that moment you were..."
"Never you mind what we were doing at that moment. I recall quite vividly.” Bethany realized she was blushing almost to her navel. She looked down at her stomach and imagined it swollen by pregnancy. “Oh, damn. Now I will be fat as well as useless."
"That is quite enough of this nonsense. You will not become fat for you must do a great deal of walking around the Veil to get anywhere at all. Plus, the diet you will be on from now on will be targeted to maximize the nutrition for the baby while helping you maintain your ideal weight for carrying it. I will, of course, be monitoring you and the baby and together, we will keep you as lovely as you are this very moment."
* * * *
Rory came home exhausted by the intense mental strain caused by manipulating the Force of Life. No matter what venue they tried, they could not find a way to see what was happening within Eastfell. As he climbed the spiral staircase that led to the hiakehla, he looked forward to a quiet evening. Perhaps he could convince Bethany to join him at a secluded spa pool with some chilled wine and they could make love in the moonlight beside the pool. When he entered the lower level, he knew his fantasy was not to be. The dining table was set for four, which meant his father and Arianna would be coming for dinner. He wondered what the occasion was that warranted a private family dinner.
Bethany was radiant in a flowing silk kaftan of silver with tiny green leaves around the hem and outlining the bodice. Her copper hair was worn loose and fell across her back like liquid metal. Her jade green eyes seemed to glow in the flickering light of the candles that decorated the room.
"You look so beautiful in the candlelight, Beth. Is there some reason for all this tonight?"
"Yes, there is, but you will have to wait for your father and Arianna to find out what it is.” A small smile crossed Bethany's lips. She knew he had forgotten. “You have about ten minutes before they arrive. I have drawn you a bath upstairs and laid out your clothes, so get a move on, my Prince."
By the time Rory returned downstairs, Arianna and his father had arrived and were each sitting in a chair, sipping a glass of elven wine. Arianna looked as fresh as she had that morning. His father looked relaxed and happy. Rory walked across the room, bent and kissed Arianna on the cheek as a greeting and then poured himself a glass of the wine. Taking a sip, he said, “This is the really good stuff. So what's the occasion?"
"Arianna, you are definitely working him much too hard,” King Brightblade said. “But then, he may not actually know what day this is.” He looked toward Rory. “We are here, son, to celebrate your eighteenth birthday and recognize your official coming of age."
Rory was surprised. “I have never known the actual date of my birth, Father. My mother was so busy pretending I was a foundling that she never told me. Of course, you had been asked to keep your distance so you could never tell me either. Anyway, she would arbitrarily pick a day each year to celebrate my birth, never the same date from one year to the next."
"I am truly sorry for that, son. I wanted to be a part of your life very much but had to content myself with watching over you both from a distance in order to honor your mother's wishes,” King Brightblade said sadly. “I would like to make that up to you in some way, but I don't know how."
"Father, that is all in the past. We have one another now, and you have given me a life I never could have imagined when I lived with Abigail in that cabin. Tha
nks to both of you, I am the heir to both a Great House in the world of men and the Great Forest in the world of the fey. Never believe I hold my past against either of you."
Arianna said, “We tried to think of a gift for you that would fit this auspicious occasion but decided you already had enough weapons and body armor, and your lovely wife takes care of the rest of your needs."
Brightblade said, “Then Bethany reminded us that you had lost Storm, your warhorse, during your pursuit of her kidnappers. So we have gotten you a new one, trained by our elven rangers far beyond what they can achieve outside. I will take you to the stables tomorrow to show him to you."
"Thank you, Father, Arianna. That is indeed a timely gift for I will need such a horse come spring."
"I, too, have a gift for you, my husband but you will have to wait a bit longer for it to arrive.” Bethany's hand unconsciously brushed her abdomen.
"A baby? We're going to have a baby?” Rory was stunned with the news. He was going to be a father. He rushed across the room, swept her into his arms, and kissed her.
Arianna looked to the wall. “Elona, I think we are ready for dinner now."
* * * *
Rory admired the dappled grey stallion his father had given him. “His name is Thunder. Winterstar says he is capable of acting on his own, meaning that in the heat of battle, you can release his reins and concentrate on your enemies and your swords. He can be directed by merely pressing your knees in the direction you wish him to go."
"He's magnificent! He must be close to nineteen hands high, even taller than Storm was. I can see that as a distinct advantage in battle, but also a disadvantage if an enemy gets below my swords."
"Thunder will take care of anyone foolish enough to try that. Our horses are trained to trample anyone who gets within range of their hooves. And their hooves are shod with mithrail, which makes them even more effective against the minions of the Dark."
"A princely gift indeed. And you have just given me an idea. I must ask your forgiveness, Father, but I must get to the Heart immediately."
The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1] Page 28
