Donning the clothes, he tied his hair up, then opened the door to have a peek. The rest of the house quiet, he assumed the girls were waiting for his exit. “Guess I shouldn’t disappoint them,” he chuckled, his step light when he passed through the front door. On the porch, the other men of the house were waiting for him. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, we’ve been instructed not to get dirty and to let them know when the trolls arrive,” Rey informed him, getting to his feet. “How do I look?”
Laughing, the Mate only shook his head. “These girls. It was bad enough when it was just Amicia trying to take care of us. Now it’s her and Meena and even Zaendra from time to time.”
Grinning, Animir held up his arms, showing off his new robe. “You have to admit it’s pleasant that they are giving us such niceties.”
“Aye,” the Mate agreed, glancing at the chairs lining their small porch. “Ok, we sit and wait, I suppose.”
They didn’t have to wait long, as the trolls were punctual; a group of six made the trip. Rising to meet the king, Piers hesitated, unsure how to act on such an occasion. Standing at the top step, he looked at Yaodus eye to eye. “I’d bid you welcome, but that didn’t work out so well for me last time,” he growled, glaring into the dark, almost perfectly round eyes of the man who had killed him.
Bowing before him, the king observed, “It wasn’t a good day for any of us. Thankfully, we have this second chance. My high priest is here to see to your vows,” he informed him, offering the other troll. “And I have brought my wife, my daughter, and our two sons to bear witness.”
“Your family,” the Mate observed, puckering his lips at the lavender skin of the woman and the soft pink hue of their girl. “No one believes trolls have families,” he observed, feeling overdressed with the ragged coverings of their guests. At least they aren’t naked, he mused.
“No one really knows much about us. We keep to ourselves. We like it this way,” Yaodus agreed. “Perhaps it is time for a change,” he offered, holding his hand out towards the shore. “Where shall we stand?”
“It’s all over here,” Bally informed them, scurrying down the steps and leading the way to the place the girls had specified for the ceremony.
Watching them go, Rey knocked on the door. “The trolls are here,” he informed Lin when she cracked it to peer up at him.
“Very good, Rey Daye,” she grinned. “Five minutes, we be ready,” she informed him with a shooing motion.
Leaving the porch, he joined the others, standing in the spot Ami had decided was to be his. “We have about five minutes,” he said with a grin, suspecting that all the girls had new dresses as well.
It didn’t really surprise Piers that it was closer to half an hour before the four women arrived, but when they did, the rest became a blur. Walking in a line, Lin led the way, her appearance odd, covered in her new black gown and not her magical garb. Following, Zaendra also wore a new yellow dress, one that accented her dark flawless skin. Arriving at her position, she stood next to Baldwin, who had awaited behind him.
Turning his attention back to the procession, Piers’s eyes grew wide as Amicia strutted along in a slow, even gait. Her dress simple, it suited her, and he smiled at the look of awe on Rey’s features as she stood next to him behind his bride’s spot before their officiant.
Meena came last, in the simplest, most beautiful gown he had ever seen. A straight cut, the hem encircled her calves, shimmering as it hung around her. On her feet, she wore satin slippers, with her hair tied up and bound with ringlets escaping to tease her neck. “God help me,” Piers breathed, looking at her from head to toe.
“It’s a bit late for that,” she laughed, taking her place next to him and turning to face their priest, who towered above them. Behind the priest, the family of trolls formed a line so that a circle of friends enclosed them.
A few minutes later, after a brief speech, the troll gave them both a grin, instructing them to kneel before him. Lifting a bowl of water, he sprinkled it over them, then announced, “You may congratulate the happy couple.”
Lifting her chin with trembling fingers to give her a gentle kiss, the Mate knew he would keep his promise, spending each day to come doing his best to deserve her.
“Ah ha!” the king shouted, clapping thrice when their lips met. “And now we shall celebrate!” Bending over, he whispered to his eldest son, who broke into a wide grin as he left the group and ran up the beach, his bare feet kicking up the rough sand as he went.
Turning into the trees about fifty feet to the north, Amicia scowled as she observed, “Is he going home without you?”
“No. He is summoning the wedding party,” the queen informed her with a smile. Shorter than her mate, the woman still held almost two feet over the girl when she sidled up to stand beside her. Her eyes large and round, like dark plums beneath her light brown hair, they glistened in the spring sun. Her pale purple flesh smooth, she held an air of regality, despite the shabbiness of their attire.
“Wedding party,” Meena repeated, confused. “But we are the wedding party,” she contradicted while indicating her friends.
“Not today,” Yaodus laughed. “Today you are trolls, welcome within our kingdom. This is what you wanted, yes?” he asked, turning to face Ami. “To be given a place among us?”
“I did,” she stammered, watching as pale bodies began to pour out of the line of trees, “I guess.”
The first few trolls carried long sections of wood, which they laid out in five pyres about thirty feet apart so that they covered their entire beach end to end with dancing flames once they were lit. The trolls behind them brought large dead animals that appeared to be elk. These had been cleaned and prepared for roasting on spits which were assembled over the flames.
“What the devil is this?” Piers demanded, as smaller trolls came along, some bearing drums and stringed instruments, which they plucked.
“It’s a wedding party,” the king’s youngest repeated with a smile on his blue lips, hopping around to the beat of their play.
“It’s a celebration,” Meena whispered in awe. “They are actually going to hold a feast for us.”
“Of course,” the king laughed, his arms wide. “We will make merriment with our new friends, and you will remain in the forest for as long as our queen desires it,” he declared, giving Amicia a full bow.
When Ami glanced at his wife, she grinned, but lowered her face at her, which gave the girl an odd twist in the pit of her gut. People called her princess so often, she hardly noticed, but she had been referred to as queen twice by the troll before her. Inhaling deeply, she prepared to demand why, but as she looked around at the festival, she realized it was not the time or place for a detailed explanation.
As soon as the musicians had warmed up and the meal set to cook, the crowd began to gyrate to their rhythms. “This is incredible,” Rey called into her ear as he offered her his hand. “Dance with me,” he chortled.
Writhing next to him, the couple did their best to imitate the movements of their benefactors, then fell into fits of laughter when they couldn’t keep up. Helping to serve the meat as the sun sank low in the sky, they ate and drank from large casks that had been hauled out on odd, two-wheeled carts.
“What’s in the kegs?” Bally asked, eyeing them suspiciously as large cups were served.
“It’s a special beer,” Yaodus explained, giving Piers a nod as he handed him a portion of the brew. “A tradition among our people, made from the roots of a jusue tree. We make it in the fall and store it to keep us through the winter. This is the last of last year’s supply.”
“You are so different from what we had always heard,” Meena observed, her happiness radiating from her.
“Yes,” Amicia agreed. “I’m so glad you have given us your welcome. Although I must admit this is far more than I expected.”
“True friends should only be given the best,” the king replied, raising his cup in a toast. “One day, you will come and vis
it us in our caves, and we will teach you all there is to know about the trolls.”
Up the mountain, a large form rested between the trees, his eyes trained on the girl. As the sun disappeared, a second dragon arrived and landed to share his clearing. “What news have you?” Lamwen asked, not bothering to move.
“We have only just begun, but I fear there may be a problem,” Jarrowan replied, also watching the proceedings below.
“Then give me the details,” the captain sighed.
“A few of the dragons we have spoken to seem to think this is a game. A trick of some kind. We have discussed it, and we thought you should know.”
Lifting his giant head, Lamwen faced him. “Should know what?”
“There are those on the council who are plotting against Gwirwen and not for the benefit of Ziradon or his heir, which they claim was murdered the night of Gwirwen’s rise. I’m afraid she may be in danger, and not from the king or his followers. If they wish to hold to their version of events, she would need to be eliminated.”
“Perhaps that is why he met with me alone last time,” the great green dragon mused. “He may be aware of a plot against him.”
“More than one, from the looks of things,” his companion growled. “What should we do? I’m not telepathic, so even if I hear of anything, I can’t reach out to you. I would have to pay another visit.”
“Alas, so few dragons are.”
“You speak to the girl, though,” Jarrowan insisted.
“Yes, she is exceptionally talented. Look how the trolls fawn over her. You would think she was one of them. They have never brought in strangers so.” Gazing down at the group, a dark thought formed in the back of his mind, one that he didn’t dare to put into words. Instead, he reassured his visitor, “We will be fine. Keep to the plan, only speak to those you know harbor a desire to seek our new king’s demise. We will build our army slow but sure.”
“Yes, my captain,” the other dragon agreed before leaping into the air to make his return to the cliffs.
Curling his long tail, Lamwen watched until the flames died away and the trolls made their way back into the woods. Considering their behavior, he couldn’t help but wonder if the old troll had guessed who the girl was, and if he had, what it might cost them in the end.
Betrayal of Honor
Dragon of Eriden Book 3
Samantha Jacobey
Lavish Publishing, LLC ~ Midland
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BETRAYAL OF HONOR. Copyright 2018 ©
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Lavish Publishing, LLC.
First Edition
Dragon of Eriden Book 3
2018 Lavish Publishing, LLC
All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States by Lavish Publishing, LLC, Midland, TX
Cover Design by: Alexcia Productions
Cover Images: Lavish Publishing, LLC
Ebook Edition
ISBN-13: 978-1-944985-60-8
ISBN-10: 1-944985-60-3
www.LavishPublishing.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Crimson Caves
Mortals of the Rim
Hiding the Past
By the Numbers
A Fireside Chat
The Wandering Gnome
Gnome Home
Veil of Secrets
King’s Ransom
Rhong
Halls of Stone
In the Shadows
Love’s Bliss
All’s Fair
Zaendra’s Day
Broken Chains
A Safe Journey
The Abyss
Asomanee
Creatures of Darkness
Ancient Betrayal
The Gnomes of Falconmarsh
Written in Stone
The Right Time
Secrets About Secrets
Return of the Captain
Unspoken
Rise of the Dragoness
Dragon’s Light
Prologue
“Lamwen,” Pardodan grunted as he landed next to the captain of the king’s guard.
“Pardodan,” the older dragon replied, holding his tone even.
Looking around anxiously, the newcomer first admired the clearing where his target had been lying. Then turning, he stared down the slope at the cabin below. A girl with unruly blond hair used a tub of water to scrub articles of clothing before hanging them, her line stretched from the cabin to a tree on the edge of the forest.
“I’ve been sent to summon you,” he informed the captain in a surly tone.
“Summoned by whom, might I ask?” Lamwen’s voice remained calm, his gaze still fixed on the scene below them.
“The council will convene on the eve. Don’t be late.” Pardodan did not elaborate. Leaping into the air, he left their spy to decide his next move.
Watching him head east, presumably to return to Adiarwen to inform their king his message had been delivered, Lamwen considered his options. He had been careful since the day the trolls had welcomed the members of New Abolia into their beloved Yilaric. He had only allowed the girl to visit him a handful of times, and none of the others had been permitted to do so, although he knew they desired it.
“Foolish mortals,” he growled, turning his gaze to the east field, where three men and an elf were gathered, either planting or tending to their new crops. He had to admit they had tenacity, especially the old man they called the Mate. The troll king had killed him a few months ago, but Amicia had restored his life in the grandest display of power his eyes had ever seen.
And how does he use this second chance? His lids narrowed, he studied Piers as he toiled. Planting crops, as if the entire Kingdom of Eriden were not poised to rise against them.
Turning his gaze to the girl, he watched her equally dedicated movements. An unselfish lot, he had to admit. Each had carved out a role within their small society and worked to fill their days with service to the group. The others had accepted his communication with the girl, but if it had changed their perception of her, he could not see it in the way they regarded her, or she them.
“Amicia,” he called down to her thoughts.
“Yes?”
“I am summoned before the council,” he informed her. “I shall return when I am able.”
“Be safe,” she bade in her typically protective manner.
Taking flight, the gathering below hardly noticed his coming and going these days. Headed east, only a short distance behind Pardodan, he kept his pace slowed in the hope that it would be dark by the time he arrived.
In his solitude, the dragon had come to feel disconnected from his kin. He no longer communed telepathically with any of them, even those strong enough to have reached him in the past. Jarrowan had been his only visitor from their realm, and those had been few and far between. Their numbers still small, the time had not yet come for their group to rise against Gwirwen; at least he hoped it had not.
The fire on the cliff burned brightly when he arrived, as the darkness had covered the land as he had planned. He could hear angry voices floating on the air and surmised a quarrel had taken place. It ended as he grew near, and so the topic of the dispute remained a mystery.
Landing on the edge, he ambled towards the ring. Holding his head high and glanc
ing from face to face, he recognized all who stood close to the flames, but a few others hung in the shadows, outside of his view. “My lord,” he spat, announcing his presence as he lumbered to the center of their congregation.
“Lamwen,” Gwirwen replied sharply. “Our guest of honor.”
I doubt that, their target judged from those who stood near. “You require a report?” he inquired aloud.
“Yes,” Ziewen agreed. “What news have you of the mortals? Have the trolls not removed them from their forest or boiled their bones for their supper yet?”
“No, they have been welcomed to Yilaric,” he replied evenly, almost as if to brag. Deep anger towards the council had festered within him, and it took every ounce of his resolve to hold his rebellion under control.
He had felt the tension in their midst the night he stood before them after being held by the satyrs. His blood dripping from his torn wing, they had interrogated him, then assigned him to watch over the girl and her companions. He had performed his duties well, and yet his feeling that they distrusted him had grown ten-fold at his current conversation.
“That is quite out of the ordinary,” the king observed, turning and walking slowly in front of the council members. “I have warned that this girl is a bad omen. Perhaps now you will confess the veracity of my claim.”
A murmur passed between the onlookers, and Lamwen detected the divide in their ranks; those of the council intending a coup were close to unleashing their plan. “Ami,” he called into the darkness.
“You’re back already?” she asked in surprise.
“No, I have not returned. Gather your friends and pack your things. I fear you may be in danger.”
“What? Why?” she whined.
“No time to explain, silly girl. Do as I say,” he commanded, his gaze taking in the large forms before him as the argument between them rose again. “May I ask what this is about?” he demanded aloud. “Does the captain of the guard not deserve enlightenment?”
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