Read Online The Alterra Histories: The Fire King by C. S. Marks - Free Book Online
Authors: C. S. Marks
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tall wagon. Aincor appeared, his face as dark as a thundercloud. He had apparently followed Vathan out of curiosity. “Wind-walkers? And who, or what, are they? It’s no use trying to lie to me…neither of you has ever been able to do so without my knowing it.”
“Please, beloved…do not blame Vathan. I forced him to keep my secret. I just…I just wanted to be here with you, to watch over you and Asgar.”
“Have you so little confidence in me that you believe I need you to watch over me in battle?” said Aincor, his anger still quite evident. “And do you also believe me incapable of keeping our son from harm?”
“It’s not always about you , is it? You cannot be everywhere at once,” said Faelani. “Asgar is anxious to prove himself, and he is nearly as reckless as his father. Another pair of watchful eyes couldn’t hurt…” She cringed inwardly, knowing how weak and unconvincing her argument sounded.
“You were actually on the battlefield last night. You pulled Talon from the fray! He spoke your name because…because he wanted to tell me you were here!” He looked away. “How could I have been so easily misled? You stood within striking distance of dragons and trolls. You could have been stricken down, and I would not even have known it?” The anger in his eyes was slowly overcome by a dawning fear. He could lose his only love—could lose her at any moment. He felt suddenly unmanned. “I cannot speak of this now.”
He turned then to Vathan, and the anger returned. “Explain to me ‘wind- walkers’.”
Vathan knew he had to tell Aincor the truth, to reveal that he had sent messengers to their allies. “They had to be warned! I’m quite certain the wind-walkers left without anyone’s observing them. They have been specially trained. Wrothgar would not have known.”
“Oh, you are so certain?” said Aincor with barely controlled fury. “The only fact which will now save your life is that the Shadowmancer was so poorly prepared for our assault. Even I—proud, self-important, deluded fool that I am—expected a more difficult fight. Your disobedience has, thankfully, caused us little harm. But that will not save you from punishment. You are stripped of your title and your rank. You are banished from this army, and will be taken back to Tal-elathas in shame. I shall have you bound and imprisoned in this supply wagon to await the outcome of the battle. Your sister will also remain here so that I need not be concerned for her welfare.” He turned to Faelani. “Do you understand?”
Every syllable was spat forth as though he would strike her with it. He meant every word. “I understand,” she said.
“Promise me you will not leave the encampment,” said Aincor, looking her firmly in the eye.
“I will stay in the encampment.”
“You won’t leave it. Promise me.”
“I promise,” said Faelani, her head hung in defeat.
Part Five
In the depths of his pale tower, Lord Wrothgar prepared to receive his enemy. The Fire-heart and his army would break though his defenses soon, but that did not dismay him. The most powerful and ruthless Elven warrior ever to draw breath was, in all likelihood, expecting to stand defiant before his very throne…but that was of little concern.
Not often on the eve of battle is one so certain of victory, yet Wrothgar was certain. His plans had been well laid, his armies well positioned. The Enlightened Peoples of Alterra had been lulled, beguiled, and misled, and now they fought desperately to defend themselves. Aincor, the mightiest of them all, would most certainly fail to prevent the Dark Uprising from overwhelming all the western lands. Such grand plans had a price, and Wrothgar expected to pay a heavy one—he would need to tear apart the very fabric of his own existence.
The Shadowmancer had lurked in the dark places of Alterra since the Time of Mystery. His origins were unknown; even he could not remember them. But he had practiced his
“Please, beloved…do not blame Vathan. I forced him to keep my secret. I just…I just wanted to be here with you, to watch over you and Asgar.”
“Have you so little confidence in me that you believe I need you to watch over me in battle?” said Aincor, his anger still quite evident. “And do you also believe me incapable of keeping our son from harm?”
“It’s not always about you , is it? You cannot be everywhere at once,” said Faelani. “Asgar is anxious to prove himself, and he is nearly as reckless as his father. Another pair of watchful eyes couldn’t hurt…” She cringed inwardly, knowing how weak and unconvincing her argument sounded.
“You were actually on the battlefield last night. You pulled Talon from the fray! He spoke your name because…because he wanted to tell me you were here!” He looked away. “How could I have been so easily misled? You stood within striking distance of dragons and trolls. You could have been stricken down, and I would not even have known it?” The anger in his eyes was slowly overcome by a dawning fear. He could lose his only love—could lose her at any moment. He felt suddenly unmanned. “I cannot speak of this now.”
He turned then to Vathan, and the anger returned. “Explain to me ‘wind- walkers’.”
Vathan knew he had to tell Aincor the truth, to reveal that he had sent messengers to their allies. “They had to be warned! I’m quite certain the wind-walkers left without anyone’s observing them. They have been specially trained. Wrothgar would not have known.”
“Oh, you are so certain?” said Aincor with barely controlled fury. “The only fact which will now save your life is that the Shadowmancer was so poorly prepared for our assault. Even I—proud, self-important, deluded fool that I am—expected a more difficult fight. Your disobedience has, thankfully, caused us little harm. But that will not save you from punishment. You are stripped of your title and your rank. You are banished from this army, and will be taken back to Tal-elathas in shame. I shall have you bound and imprisoned in this supply wagon to await the outcome of the battle. Your sister will also remain here so that I need not be concerned for her welfare.” He turned to Faelani. “Do you understand?”
Every syllable was spat forth as though he would strike her with it. He meant every word. “I understand,” she said.
“Promise me you will not leave the encampment,” said Aincor, looking her firmly in the eye.
“I will stay in the encampment.”
“You won’t leave it. Promise me.”
“I promise,” said Faelani, her head hung in defeat.
Part Five
In the depths of his pale tower, Lord Wrothgar prepared to receive his enemy. The Fire-heart and his army would break though his defenses soon, but that did not dismay him. The most powerful and ruthless Elven warrior ever to draw breath was, in all likelihood, expecting to stand defiant before his very throne…but that was of little concern.
Not often on the eve of battle is one so certain of victory, yet Wrothgar was certain. His plans had been well laid, his armies well positioned. The Enlightened Peoples of Alterra had been lulled, beguiled, and misled, and now they fought desperately to defend themselves. Aincor, the mightiest of them all, would most certainly fail to prevent the Dark Uprising from overwhelming all the western lands. Such grand plans had a price, and Wrothgar expected to pay a heavy one—he would need to tear apart the very fabric of his own existence.
The Shadowmancer had lurked in the dark places of Alterra since the Time of Mystery. His origins were unknown; even he could not remember them. But he had practiced his
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