The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Read online

  The Lords of Areon

  By Aaron J. Ethridge

  Additional info can be found at:

  Areonuniverse.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Aaron J. Ethridge

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2016

  ISBN ?

  Kindle Edition

  Ethridge Publishing

  2311 Lake Drive

  Williston, SC 29853

  Aaronjethridge.com

  Before You Begin…

  The Lords of Areon is the third volume in The Chronicles of Areon series. Although you can certainly enjoy the books out of sequence, you may find it even more enjoyable to read them in the correct order. The first volume (The Stars of Areon) is currently available on Amazon.com. If you’re interested, you can purchase it using this link: The Stars of Areon

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Uncertainty

  Chapter 2: Mikral City

  Chapter 3: Accusations

  Chapter 4: Escape

  Chapter 5: Siege

  Chapter 6: The Fords

  Chapter 7: Retreat

  Chapter 8: A Parting of the Ways

  Chapter 9: Rebellion

  Chapter 10: The Fortress of the Foe

  Chapter 11: To Arms

  Chapter 12: Surrender

  Chapter 13: A Shortage of Supplies

  Chapter 14: The Price of Peace

  Chapter 15: Broken Shackles

  Chapter 16: Before the Storm

  Chapter 17: The Storm

  Chapter 18: A Red Dawn

  Thank You!

  Chapter 1: Uncertainty

  “Good morning, Lady Gwendolyn,” Kilren said, stepping onto the battlements where the maiden stood watching the sun slowly rise above the treetops.

  “Good morning, Lieuten...” she began, turning to look at him as she spoke. “Kilren, what is that on your head?”

  “I'd have thought it was obvious,” he replied with a smile. “It's a daisy-chain crown.”

  “Well, yes,” she nodded. “I suppose that is obvious. What's not, however, is why you're wearing it.”

  “It's the first day of spring,” he explained. “That being the case, coupled with the fact that I'm an engaged man, means I should be wearing a daisy-chain crown.”

  “According to who?”

  “Elves,” he winked. “At least, the elves of Innalas. Apparently, it's an old custom and, seeing as how I plan to marry an elvish girl, I figure I need to start learning, as well as putting into practice, their traditions.”

  “That's sweet.”

  “I'm glad you approve,” he replied with a slight bow. “I'm hoping that when Erana sees that I'm trying to learn her people's customs, she'll try to learn a few of ours.”

  “Like what?” the maiden asked, gazing at him from under a single raised eyebrow.

  “Like...” he began before pausing. “No. No, you're too young for me to tell you.”

  “I'm fifteen,” the maiden pointed out.

  “So you are,” he agreed with a nod. “I suppose that is old enough after all. I'm hoping she'll pick up the rather human habit of kissing before you get married.”

  “I suppose I can see that,” Gwendolyn replied with a wide smile and a slight blush. “I'm not sure it's going to work, though.”

  “Probably not,” he admitted with a sigh, “but, I have to try something. I haven't kissed her for almost a year, you know?”

  “What do you wear if you're not engaged?”

  “What?”

  “What kind of crown?”

  “Why?” he smiled. “Do you want one?”

  “I do,” she replied.

  “Well, you wear roses,” he explained, offering her his arm, “which is good, because the garden is full of them.”

  “Then let's go pick some,” she replied, accepting his offer. “Why did you address me as Lady Gwendolyn?”

  “Simply because I'm on an official mission,” he explained as the pair set off for the garden. “Lord Andor wants to speak with us and dispatched me to get you, Erana, and Darian.”

  “Well then, Lieutenant,” she laughed, “you seem to be taking your time about it.”

  “I am,” Kilren agreed. “Lord Andor didn't say there was any rush. He just told me to find you all. Seeing as how that was only five minutes ago, I feel that I'm doing fairly well so far.”

  The friends made their way down from the walls and into the gardens, arm in arm. There, Gwendolyn, with the aid of Kilren's dagger, cut a number of long stem roses. She began forming them into a flowery crown as the pair set out across one of the meadows that surrounded the fortress that was their home.

  The sun shone off the thick walls of pale stone that surrounded the castle while banners of white bearing the symbol of Solarin – the image of a golden sun – fluttered from the tops of the towers in the gentle breeze. The field that they crossed was filled with wild flowers that flooded the area with their delightful scent.

  The companions made their way to the far side of the meadow before stepping into the shade of the woodlands that lay beyond them. Kilren hadn't seen the young Telian all morning. That being the case, he felt certain he knew where he was. His conjecture was proven correct just minutes later as they encountered the young knight heading back toward the fortress.

  “Was he there?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Not this morning,” Darian answered, shaking his head. “What are you two wearing?”

  “Crowns made out of flowers,” the maiden replied. “Isn't it obvious?”

  “Yes, it is,” the knight nodded. “Why are you wearing them?”

  “It's tradition,” Gwendolyn asserted. “Kilren is wearing daisies because he's engaged. I'm wearing roses because I'm not. Do you want one?”

  “No,” he laughed. “No, I don't.”

  “I thought you wouldn't,” she sighed.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Kilren asked, renewing his original line of inquiry.

  “About a month ago, I suppose. Which is a little long. I don't think we've ever missed each other for more than two weeks before.”

  “Well, if you went down there every day, you'd have a better chance of catching him.”

  “I suppose that's true,” the knight admitted. “But, I don't have time to take that long a walk every morning.”

  “I guess I can see that,” the lieutenant nodded.

  “What do you two talk about?” the maiden asked.

  “All kinds of things really,” Darian replied.

  “How?” Kilren chuckled. “He can't speak.”

  “Well, no, he can't,” the Telian agreed. “But he can nod, and whinny, and shake his head. That's enough for us to communicate. Besides, a lot of times I can tell what he's thinking.”

  “How?” the lieutenant asked incredulously.

  “I don't know,” Darian said. “Really, I just mean we think alike.”

  “Which is hardly surprising in my mind,” the maiden said, smiling at the knight. “After all, unicorns are creatures of pure good. They're the closest thing to Telian Knights in the animal kingdom.”

  “I don't think I'd call them animals,” the knight replied.

  “Well, no,” she agreed. “Neither would I, really, but you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” he smiled. “And I take it as a compliment.”

  “Good! Because that's how I meant it!” she replied playfully.

  “So, wha
t are you two doing out here?” Darian asked, offering his own arm to the maiden as the three turned back toward the fortress.

  “Looking for you,” Kilren answered. “Lord Andor wants to speak to us.”

  “About what?”

  “I have no idea,” the lieutenant confessed, “but I hope it has something to do with restoring Solarin. It's been nearly a year and, so far, we haven't accomplished anything.”

  “I wouldn't say that,” the knight disagreed. “We've spoken to a number of Solarin nobles...”

  “Former Solarin nobles,” Kilren interjected.

  “Most of them support the cause,” Darian continued. “We've informed them that the royal family is alive, and King Illfas has formally recognized the claims of King Calmon.”

  “Which basically amounts to nothing,” the lieutenant asserted. “At least, it does if we don't do anything more.”

  “We will.”

  “When?”

  “I don't know,” the knight replied. “Whenever the time is right, I suppose. Lord Andor doesn't want to start a war.”

  “Neither do I,” Kilren said, “especially considering that we only have one fortress filled with just over a hundred men. That's not the kind of force you want to go to war with.”

  “Lord Andor doesn't want to go to war at all.”

  “Which is why the restoration of Solarin isn't likely to ever happen.”

  “How can you say that?” he friend asked, shaking his head. “It's happening now! The royal family has come out of hiding, many of the nobles acknowledge their claims, the kingdom of Innalas recognizes Solarin's sovereignty...”

  “What's sovereignty without land Darian?” Kilren asked, shaking his head. “I don't want to discourage you, my friend, and keep in mind that I serve Solarin as well, I'm just trying to point out that the kingdom is never going to be restored unless we fight to restore it. That means war.”

  “It might,” the knight admitted. “If that proves to be the case, then I'm certain Lord Andor will do whatever has to be done. I just said that he doesn't want to go to war, not that he wouldn't.”

  “Even if he were willing, we don't have an army.”

  “We would have,” the knight assured him. “The people would rise to fight for their king as soon as he called. The people of Solarin have lived under King Palnar's tyranny for over twenty years. They just haven't had a leader to help them throw off his shackles.”

  “Maybe,” the lieutenant replied without conviction. “I'm not sure that most of them see him as a tyrant. His taxes are a little high, but...”

  “Mikral has been at war during almost every year of his reign,” the Telian interrupted. “How many people have died because of his lust for gold? How much blood has been spilled since the crown was placed on his head? How many wives have been left without a husband? How many sons and daughters left without a father?”

  “I agree,” Kilren nodded. “However, King Palnar has also made Mikral rich. In the main, his conquests have been successful. Even the lowliest peasants never go hungry and have more wine than they can drink. Most people don't associate that with tyranny.”

  “That has nothing to do with it,” Darian asserted. “He's not the rightful ruler of Solarin. He's nothing more than a thief with a crown on his head.”

  “That's exactly how I see it,” the lieutenant replied. “I'm just not sure that's how the people will. Even if they do, they're not trained soldiers. As you pointed out, King Palnar's men have fought in countless wars over the last twenty years. They're battle- hardened veterans. We're not going to defeat his armies with a bunch of farmers.”

  “Eilian willing, we won't have to try,” the knight replied. “Lord Andor is hoping to find a diplomatic solution.”

  “Well, I certainly wish him well,” Kilren replied. “I just don't see it happening.”

  Silence temporary fell between the three companions as each crossed the flower covered meadow wrapped in their own thoughts. The lieutenant led his friends past the fortress to the edge of the woods on the opposite side of the fields. Having apparently reached his current destination, he sat down on the grass and invited the knight and the maiden to follow his example.

  “What are we doing?” Darian asked, stretching himself out on the ground and turning his eyes to the clouds above.

  “Waiting.”

  “Alright. Waiting for what?”

  “Erana,” Kilren replied. “She's offering up prayers to Selvios. It has to do with some elvish religious ceremony celebrating spring and I figure it's a good idea to let her finish without interrupting her.”

  “It is,” Darian agreed. “Why didn't you do it with her?”

  “It's some kind of solitary ritual the rangers of Innalas go through,” he explained. “They ask Selvios to watch over them and bless them through the new year.”

  “The new year was months ago,” Darian replied.

  “Not if you're an elf of Innalas,” Kilren corrected.

  “Which reminds me,” Gwendolyn said thoughtfully. “What's going to happen when the year is up?”

  “Another year will start?” the lieutenant suggested.

  “I mean; what's going to happen after Erana has been here for a year?” the maiden replied.

  “A few things,” Kilren asserted. “First, she and I are going to go tell her father that we haven't changed our minds and that we still want to get married.”

  “What do you think he'll say?”

  “I'm not sure,” the lieutenant sighed. “In his last letter, Galinral seemed rather optimistic about us getting a yes from his father this time. But, you know how he is. He tries to look at everything in the best possible light and I don't think he'd ever say anything that might upset his baby sister. So, I'm not sure how much stock I put in it.”

  “Well, this year or the next,” Darian mused, “or even the one after that, he'll give you permission. You two are engaged whether he's officially acknowledged it yet or not.”

  “I take your point,” Kilren replied, his brows knitted, “but, that doesn't make things much easier at the moment. King Illfas may not let her stay here another year.”

  “I'm sure he will,” the knight assure him.

  “He probably will,” the lieutenant agreed, “but if I were officially her fiancé I would have certain rights under the laws of Innalas. As it stands now, I don't.”

  “You're a Kaelfen of Innalas,” Gwendolyn pointed out.

  “That's true. However, having the rank of knight doesn't do much in a situation like this. Being her fiancé would be much better.”

  “What are you talking about?” the elvish maiden asked, emerging from the woods with Rragor at her side.

  “You,” Kilren said, turning his eyes to his love.

  “You're wearing a daisy-chain crown,” she observed, smiling down at him.

  “I am,” he nodded. “It's tradition. It lets all the lovely ladies know that, spring or not, I'm spoken for.”

  “Yes, it does,” she replied, turning her eyes to the Telian. “Just like the roses let all the handsome young knights know that Gwendolyn is available.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “She already told me.”

  “Does it give you any ideas?” the elvish maiden asked.

  “Not really,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean; I'd look ridiculous wearing a crown of roses, don't you think?”

  “Do you think I look ridiculous?” Gwendolyn asked.

  “Not at all,” he smiled. “You're a girl. Crowns made of flowers look really good on you and Erana.”

  “Define look good,” she replied, carefully watching the young knight's face.

  “I mean,” he explained. “It makes you look like ladies.”

  “I find that offensive,” Kilren pointed out.

  “Well, they look good on you, too,” Darian laughed.

  “I find that more offensive,” the lieutenant asserted.

  “I think they look good on you,” the elvish maiden added,
pulling her love to his feet and wrapping her arms around him.

  “That I don't find offensive,” he replied staring down into her eyes. “Since I'm learning more about elvish culture, I think you should try to learn a little more about human culture.”

  “I plan to,” she smiled. “Ian's been telling me bits and pieces.”

  “I hope he’s been telling you the good bits.”

  “He has,” she replied with a slight blush. “Either way, why are you three out here?”

  “We were waiting on you,” Darian said, climbing to his feet before helping Gwendolyn up.

  “Lord Andor wants to speak with us,” Kilren explained, taking his betrothed by the hand and leading her toward the fortress.

  “What about?”

  “I'm not sure, but I don't think it's anything major,” the lieutenant replied. “He told me not to disturb you, so there doesn't seem to be much of a rush.”

  “Then we can walk slow,” she observed, giving his hand a squeeze.

  The four companions, along with the massive wolf, made their way back to the fortress while enjoying the sunshine, the fragrant air, and the company a great deal. As they crossed the courtyard, they caught sight of Ian Donald Angus Malcolm McFaren of the clan McFaren; the famous dwarvish bard. As usual, he was attired in an exquisite suit of blue, trimmed with silver lace. He was sitting on the steps of the keep, carefully tuning a lute. His head, however, was covered with something other than his usual wide brimmed hat.

  “You too, Ian?” Darian laughed.

  “Oh, aye, lad,” the bard replied, glancing up at the crown of roses around his head. “I thought it would make Erana feel more at home. And, as I knew you'd approve of the sentiment, I made one for you, as well.”

  Having said this, he reached behind him and drew forth another ring of woven roses. Gwendolyn placed this on the knight's head, in spite of his protestations, and the five of them made their way to the hall; all crowned with flowers. They found Lord Andor sitting at the head of the table with Captain Tealor, the warrior's lovely wife Sarena, and Captain Daegon near at hand.

  “What are you all wearing?” Tealor asked with a wide smile.