Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2

by Kade Derricks

  “Race you home,” Dain said to Telar with a challenging quirk of his eyebrows.

  Without waiting for a response, he spurred Socks into a gallop out the gate and across the open meadow around the castle and then into the trees. The eager horse’s hooves beat out a steady drumbeat on the hard-packed road. Telar was just behind him; he could hear his son’s paws raking over the cobblestones.

  For a half-mile they raced toward home together. Neck and neck, they crossed the stone bridge over the Wessen. Sera had removed the old living bridge years before. Dain hadn’t agreed with the decision, but she’d had strong feelings about freeing those mighty interwoven trees, and it hadn’t been worth the argument.

  Dain leaned forward, urging Socks to greater speed. He glanced over his shoulder. Panting and tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, Telar had fallen just a few yards behind.

  Dain swung Socks off the main road, taking a shortcut through a cornfield. Puffs of dust billowed out with each hoofbeat. At only a few feet tall, the stalks didn’t bother Socks, but they would sting Telar’s eyes. Dain stole another look back. His lead had widened. At the field’s edge Dain felt Socks tense, then the horse sprang up over the high wooden fence, clearing it with ease.

  After landing, he looked back again to see if Telar would try the jump. Instead of flying over, the wolf leaped between the first pair of wooden rails, gaining precious time on his father.

  He’s learning, Dain thought. A month ago he would’ve tried going over the top.

  With home now less than a half a mile ahead, Dain pushed the horse faster. Socks was tiring; he could sense the horse’s fatigue. Telar continued to gain ground, pulling to within a few feet again. Only a narrow creek remained between the racers and the finish line. Here, time and water had carved out a steeply sided bank, and the creek ran in a shallow channel at the bottom.

  Telar pulled even with Dain, but as the wolf started turning upstream to cross at a narrower spot, Dain goaded the sprinting horse over the creek’s edge. Again, the black gelding took flight. After soaring over the water he landed neatly on the creek’s opposite side and trotted the last few yards to the finish.

  Dain had Socks at the water trough beside the barn by the time Telar caught up, in his boy’s form once more.

  “Almost had you,” he said, panting.

  “Almost isn’t the same as winning,” Dain replied with a grin. He led Socks into his barn stall, removed the horse’s saddle and bit, and then dropped some hay into his trough. Telar was still waiting when he returned.

  “I would have won if you hadn’t taken the shortcut. I might have still won if I’d jumped the creek, too.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I just…” The boy trailed off and turned his face down, kicking a rock loose from the hard soil.

  “I still get afraid, too, son,” Dain said. He wrapped one arm around Telar and squeezed his shoulders.

  “You?” Telar stared up at Dain, one eyebrow arching.

  “Yes. Afraid for others. Afraid of failing them. Afraid for my own life, even.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  Dain considered a moment before answering. “You just have to face your fears head on. Have faith in yourself. Have faith in your training. It’s never as bad as you imagine.” Dain ruffled Telar’s beautiful black hair. He was proud of his children. Each had their strengths and weaknesses, but all had strong, generous spirits.

  “Let’s go in. You ran well today,” Dain said, letting his pride show through in his voice.

  Dain took a seat at the long dining room table while Telar disappeared down the hallway toward his bedroom. Dain had crafted the table himself, after Sera, with her spells, had grown the dark wood. Like the craftsmen in his distant homeland to the south, he refused to use nails, preferring instead dovetailed joints and glue to hold the thick pieces together.

  “Father, I summoned a water elemental today,” Luren called, emerging from the hall. There was a strong resemblance between the twins; the same midnight hair and green eyes.

  “By yourself, Luren?” Dain asked.

  “Yes, Instructor Celia was surprised. She said no fourteen-year-old could.”

  “And did you control it?” Sera asked from the kitchen, a smile in her voice.

  Luren twiddled her thumbs together. “For a minute I did. Then it broke free and Celia had to stop it.”

  “Go on outside and finish up your chores, then,” Sera said, and Luren disappeared out the door in a graceful flash.

  Dain watched Sera finish dinner after being batted away with a dishtowel when he’d offered help. His slender wood elf wife moved gracefully from stove to sink, putting the last touches on their meal. Unlike himself, her midnight hair remained untouched by grey. Looking at her, he never forgot how lucky he was. Before coming to the valley he never would have imagined that someone who matched him so perfectly existed. The years since the war with the Golden had been kind to them.

  Their oldest, Jin, now served in the rangers protecting travelers and goods along the gold road to Galena. The rangers were also tasked with watching the borders around their lands for raiding orcs. Though they hadn’t been seen often these last years, Dain didn’t doubt that many orcs remained in the high, snow-capped peaks surrounding the valley.

  Occasionally, Jin’s duties brought her close to home, and Dain and Sera expected her tonight. Dain couldn’t be prouder of his eldest for joining the rangers, but it was a job that came with a host of dangers, and he and Sera both worried about her.

  Luren and Telar had been born in the winter following the war’s conclusion, twin blessings on their new life together. Each showed great promise at their studies, Telar as a shapeshifter and Luren as a mage.

  Little Rhone had been born just three years past. He ran into the dining room now like a whirlwind, sprinting quick circles around the table until Dain scooped him up with one arm.

  “Ride Socks, Papa,” he said, grinning happily.

  “Did you see Socks jump the creek, Rhone?” Dain asked. With a hand he mimed the horse in flight.

  “Socks fly?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide.

  “Yes, Socks flew all the way over the water.” Dain patted Rhone’s brown head and looked into his wide, silver eyes.

  “Socks no get wet?”

  “Socks no get wet,” Dain repeated with an easy smile. “He’ll be wanting a horse of his own soon,” he said to Sera.

  “When he’s older. I won’t have him falling off and breaking his neck,” Sera answered.

  This was not a new issue between them. Dain had been working for months to win her over, but after Luren’s incident on her own first ride, she’d remained firm. However, Sera’s brother Tarol had a mare ready to birth her colt any day now, and Dain had already made arrangements with him.

  “You’re right, of course,” he chuckled. She sounded resolved, but he had planned for this. After it’s born, I’ll take Sera and the kids over to see it. No chance she’ll say no after that. After many years of marriage, Dain knew well the steps to the intricate dance of compromise.

  He put Rhone on the seat next to him, but the energetic toddler squirmed away and vanished into one of the bedrooms, still babbling about Socks.

  “Did Jin say when to expect her?” Dain asked. He stood, walked into the kitchen, and looked out through the window at the fading light.

  “She should have been here hours ago,” Sera said, a touch of concern in her tone.

  “You know how she is. Her duties have just delayed her as usual,” Dain said as he wrapped his arms around Sera. Gently, he kissed the back of her neck while she stirred a pot of boiling potatoes. She placed her hands over his, then turned her head and kissed him in return, happiness mixed with worry in her silver eyes when she drew back
.

  “I know. But I wish she would take a safer line of work. Maybe as an instructor for new recruits?”

  “She wouldn’t be Jin if she took the safe path,” Dain laughed.

  “That’s her father’s side, not mine.”

  “Who, me? I was just a hardworking miner until you put me under your spell and dragged me off on a great adventure.” This brought a true smile to Sera’s face, and she smacked him playfully with the back of her hand.

  They were all settling down for dinner when a knock at the door rang out.

  “That will be Jin now. Just in time,” Dain said. “Come on in,” he called.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” a cloaked wood elf said, stepping inside.

  “We’re settling in to eat,” Dain replied, clasping the elf’s arm at the wrist. “Come in.”

  The new arrival pulled back his hood, revealing a clean-shaven head. He unfastened his cloak and hung it on a peg near the door. Scrollwork tattoos ran the length of his thick arms.

  “Cleeger!” Telar yelled happily.

  “May I dine at your table, Baron Gladstone?” the elf asked. The powerful shapeshifter joined them at least once a month for a meal, unannounced and unexpected but always welcome.

  “Still insisting on formalities after all these years? Yes, please take a seat at our table,” Dain replied. He hated the title the elves had bestowed on him, but tried not to show it.

  “Sit by me,” Telar said, shuffling over to open a space. Cleeger mentored the young shapeshifter outside of his normal studies, and Dain knew how much his son looked up to him.

  “Of course, Telar,” the big elf said with a smile.

  They ate in relative silence. Dain caught Sera stealing anxious glances at the silent doorway and out the window. She worried about Jin too much. Jin had sound judgment and was well trained in all manner of weapons and spells; Dain himself had seen to it. Her fighting skills exceeded all but a handful in the valley.

  He and Cleeger made small talk about crops and the weather and the trade caravans. Telar explained his progress at studies and the big shapeshifter offered tips and advice. Luren told them how her instructors had dismissed the elemental and what she would improve upon next time.

  “All right, off to bed, kids,” Sera said at the meal’s end. Dain heard the tension in her voice. Truthfully, he was getting a bit worried now himself.

  “Mother, I want to talk to Cleeger. He’s teaching me some new tricks,” Telar said.

  “Perhaps he should join the academy. I’m sure all the young shapeshifters would benefit from his wisdom,” Dain said. This was a pleasant but long-standing argument between himself and the elf.

  “You know my reasons, Baron. Those old fools do not approve of my methods or my lifestyle.”

  “Stubborn elven pride,” Dain muttered. The remark earned him sharp looks from both Cleeger and Sera.

  “To bed now,” Sera commanded. When she used what they all called “the royal tone,” the kids knew not to delay further. Telar and Luren each took one of Rhone’s hands and led him off toward their rooms.

  “What news from the north?” Dain asked, turning back to Cleeger.

  “The Golden still hold Mirr as ever,” said Cleeger. “Their internal war appears to be long over, but there is more activity in the city than usual.”

  “And the wood elves among them?” Sera asked, a fine line forming down the center of her elegant brow.

  “I approached several and offered them freedom, but they still refuse to leave. The Golden do not lie in this. Those who remain truly do not wish to go,” Cleeger said.

  “I can’t understand it. Why choose a life of slavery?” Sera said.

  “I don’t believe they consider it slavery. From what I can see, they are treated well and can choose whom they serve. There are rumors that many are paid for their work.”

  “And the gold road?” Dain asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the wood elves. The topic of wood elves choosing to stay in golden elf lands was also an old point of contention. Many of Sera’s people argued for taking up arms against the Golden and waging another war with them. Dain was in no mood to start the debate anew in his own home. They had far too many enemies already, and he wasn’t sure the wood elves would triumph over the Golden again. In any event, the victor would surely be left weakened, making them easy prey for the mountain orcs or greedy humans in the western kingdoms.

  “The road remains secure thanks in large part to your Paladins and the rangers. There have been some rumors of orc activity; those old stories about missing caravans, but nothing confirmed.”

  Another knock came from the door, and Dain recognized Jin’s particular rap on the wood. This time Sera sprang to answer it. She hugged Jin and pulled her inside.

  Dain saw his daughter’s face and immediately knew something was wrong.

  Sera’s relief was such that she missed it. “Jin! Come in. Have some food. We were just talking about those old rumors concerning the missing caravans.”

  Jin said nothing, face frozen in an emotionless mask. Taller than Sera, her various weapons rattled as she walked. She removed them one by one and piled them on a short bench near the door. She sat down at Dain’s side and then ran her fingers through the black-and-blond-streaked hair that fell in shiny sheets to her shoulders. She looked at Dain, ice-blue eyes serious.

  “Jin, what’s wrong?” Sera asked.

  “They aren’t just rumors anymore,” Jin said, dropping her gaze to the floor. “Orcs wiped out a large group of merchants near the pass. No one was spared. Not the men, not the women, not the children. We found something, though. Something I haven’t seen since I was a child, left by design in the wreckage. It was driven into a wagon above a dead boy maybe Telar’s age.” Jin swallowed. “He’d been gutted.”

  She laid a small axe on the table.

  Dain recognized it immediately. He’d carried that tomahawk for years, ever since surviving the Tyber River War far to the south. The axe had been lost in the elf war between Sera’s people and the Golden, buried in the chest of a deranged golden elf princess. Why would it have resurfaced now, so many years later?

  Jin’s eyes met his.

  “Father…above the tomahawk, your name was written in that boy’s blood.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sera Gladstone stood before the wood elf elders. Three days had passed while they gathered for this assembly. Her people’s most honored mages, shapeshifters, warriors, merchants, and artisans were all represented. To her left sat Dain and Jin. Jin’s own commander, Elgin, leader of the rangers, sat to her right.

  Like a raging wildfire, news of the destroyed caravan had spread, and all gathered now spoke of it in a tumult of voices. They shouted, some wanting war with the orcs. Others thought to take this opportunity to invade the Golden. The Golden must have let the orcs in, they reasoned. They’d done this sort of thing before, plundering a caravan and then blaming the orcs for their crimes.

  Sera saw the fear on their faces and heard it in their voices as they argued. She knew she had to take control of the gathering. Her leadership was needed now more than anything.

  “Respected Elders,” Sera began. Her words had no effect. Still they shouted.

  “Respected Elders, please,” she tried again, raising her voice.

  Finally, Dain hammered the table in front of him with a powerful fist. Sera knew he must have charged his gauntlet with Light; it flashed on impact and the sound rattled like a thunderclap through the room.

  Every head turned her way.

  “Thank you, husband,” she offered with a gentle smile. Dain’s returning grin warmed her heart and bolstered her courage.

  “Honored Elders, we are here to speak facts. Not rumors, but the truths of what we know. Jin, please report on what you h
ave found.”

  Jin rose to her feet and explained what her patrol had encountered and where. For effect, she placed the tomahawk where all gathered could see it.

  “Baron, is this your weapon?” Sera asked.

  “Yes,” Dain replied, “I lost it in the final moments of the Battle of Teran. I see several faces of those who were present that day, as well. For those here who were not, I buried this axe in Princess Koren’s black heart and lost it when she tumbled into Teran.”

  “I was with you, Baron,” an elder from the artisans said. “I saw the throw and where it landed. Koren could not have survived the axe or the fall.”

  A dozen other elves nodded in agreement.

  “Yet here it is, returned to us all these long years later,” Sera said.

  “Does Koren live, then? Does she rule the Golden, ready to pounce on us? She must be in league with the orcs. The Golden are ever treacherous; we must finish them now before they can rise again,” a voice in the back called out.

  The room erupted in frenzied arguments again.

  “Calm yourselves!” Sera yelled, letting her frustration show in her voice. She waited as the room grew quiet once more.

  “We don’t know about Koren, but Cleeger has a new report from Mirr. As many of you know, he and some of our other shapeshifters journey into the Golden’s lands from time to time, offering to free any of our people who remain enslaved,” Sera continued. “Cleeger, please tell us what you’ve learned.”

  Cleeger stood. The big shapeshifter’s fierce eyes flashed over the crowd. “As ever, the Golden’s protective spells prevent shapechanging in Mirr itself—you remain in whatever form you enter in. But I have flown over their capital and eavesdropped on their homes. The Golden believe Koren is dead. That all of the royal family are dead, in fact. There are no signs of golden elf involvement in this attack.”