Read Online The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy by Rosemary Fryth - Free Book Online Page B

another of their omen carriers.”
    “So you did
not meet our delegation?” Aran asked the first warrior again.
    “No
delegation,” he replied abruptly.
    Darven frowned
and pulled Aran aside.
    “This is going
to make things difficult. I don’t believe these men are leaders.
They seem to have been sent here to investigate an omen.”
    Aran studied
the three young men standing warily relaxed in the sun.
    “This may yet
be to our benefit, Darven,” Aran said quietly, “If we can get these
warriors into our confidence they may prove to be excellent
intermediaries between their leaders and ourselves.
    Darven nodded,
“They are obviously men who are trusted and held in high regard,
otherwise they would never have been sent here in the first place.
We will work with them, and their voices will provide added weight
to our own delegation when it is received by the Clan Chief.”
    Aran nodded in
agreement and turned back to the three warriors.
    “Greetings
plainsmen,” he said, “I am Arantur...Prince of Andur’s Keep and
last of the Andurian line and I welcome you to Andur’s Keep.”
    The three
warriors stared at him, then as one inclined their heads.
    “As we have
told you,” Aran continued, “We have recently sent a delegation to
your leaders. They are asking for your leader’s assistance in
helping us combat an enemy that threatens the peace and prosperity
of our province. We are asking that the plainsmen ride to war with
us.”
    The young
warrior frowned, “We know nothing about a war.”
    Darven stepped
forward, “Has your SpiritDreamer yet seen the flight of the
Raven?”
    The first
warrior stared at Darven with great interest, “You know of our
omens.”
    Darven nodded,
“I am from Eastling…I have heard many stories about the
plainsmen.”
    “Ah Eastling,”
the warrior smiled, and seemed to relax. “I know a few of the men
of Eastling, yet I do not know you warrior.”
    Darven held
out his hand in greeting, “It may be because I have lived so many
years at the Keep,” he explained. “I am known as Darven of
Eastling.”
    The warrior
smiled a brilliant smile, and briefly clasped hands, “I have heard
of you Darven. Men of Eastling speak with pride of your life as a
warrior. You may know me as Guldar Swordbrother.” He gestured to
the two other men, “Ansura Windfollower and Bini Stardreamer stand
also here before you. We are the warriors who have been sent out to
discover the truth indicated by the omen.”
    Darven
indicated Aran who was standing quietly listening.
    “This is my
liege lord Arantur. He is a Warriormage, the last of the Andurian
line, and soon to be crowned King.”
    The warriors
respectfully inclined their heads.
    “Lord Arantur,
our SpiritDreamer found the Oak sapling growing in the grassy
expanse of the plains, and knew that a new King had come to the
high place,” Bini Stardreamer said quietly.
    “There has not
been an oak found growing in the plains for many generations,”
Ansura added quietly, “However the Raven has not yet been seen, and
until his shadow touches our tents we do not ride to war.”
    “Where is your
SpiritDreamer?” asked Maran, who had suddenly appeared, along with
Captain Taran.
    The young
warrior Ansura stared heavily at the old, white cloaked man. “Who
is it that asks without courtesy or introduction?”
    Darven stepped
forward, “Plainswarrior Ansura…this is our SpiritDreamer, Archmage
Maran from Glaive.”
    The warrior
fell down upon the earth in supplication.
    “Forgive me
great lord,” he muttered into the grass, “I did not know you.”
    “Get up man,”
Maran growled. “I ask again, where is your SpiritDreamer?”
    Bini
Stardreamer gazed at Maran with respectful eyes, “He is with the
Clan Chief at the Great Meeting Tent. Many days ride from
here.”
    Maran frowned
and exchanged a telling look with Captain Taran.
    “I have sent a
delegation to speak to your Clan Chief,” Aran said, “Will they be
received or turned