Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Three: An Ally

Much of last week, had been spent traveling to the town of Balen, inspecting Fort Cander and their men stationed there. Donovan was now on the return journey back to Kandalare and about ready to make camp for the night. Tonight would be a star-filled night, for there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Prince Donovan had refused to have anyone accompany him, for many things were weighing heavily on his mind. There was the stranger in Etria, who was controlling King Aramus in some dark manner. In private, King Tarren, Maska, Changa, and Donovan believed it to be the work of a Dark Binder. The enemy was controlling their ally, and Prince Donovan feared this was only the beginning.

General Derrin and Lieutenant Fieger had been explicit on the state of affairs in Caralon. The Royal Family there was in grave danger. A Dark Binder was effectively controlling King Aramus. It could only mean the stranger had effectively compromised Caralon’s government and its military as well. If no one interceded on behalf of the Tindell Royal family, the enemy would win without landing a blow.

Any attempt to march into Caralon, to secure the kingdom on behalf of King Aramus and Morgan would fail. For the stranger would convince the king, here was the proof the alliance was power-hungry and desired his lands. He would advise against trusting the Answaar Royal family, branding them all as liars.

King Aramus, in his current condition, would believe the dark priest’s venomous words and respond by issuing a Declaration of War. Such an announcement would throw their ally into the throes of a Civil War. The citizens would suffer significantly in the resulting chaos. Allegiances would be tested, as to whether the people would back the mad King Aramus or stand for the kingdom’s common good. Thus, there would be no unity among the people in Caralon, nor in the alliance. The enemies’ first blow would be a telling one, and the alliance would reel from the impact.

The final tally of problems facing them now included Princess Morgan. By escorting her back to Etria, Donovan and his men had unknowingly delivered the princess into the enemies’ hands. Right now, the Dark Binder controlled the entire Trindell Royal Family. While Prince Donovan couldn’t have known this would’ve occurred, this pertinent fact gave him little comfort.

Ahead, the setting sun hung low in a pink sky. The sunlight revealed a mounted figure observing him from a grassy knoll beside the road. Despite his best efforts, Donovan could gather little detail about the individual before him. Immediately, Prince Donovan looked for any danger signs within the nearby trees and found none.

The mounted figure trotted out to the road ahead, awaiting his approach. Donovan studied the man before him, who sat astride a mighty black destrier. From all appearances, the animal stood sixteen hands tall. The horse’s sleek coat and mane shone, giving evidence of being well cared for by its master. The unknown rider came to a standstill, forcing the prince to grapple with his prior decision to travel alone. If he managed to return alive to Kandalare, he knew this would be the last journey he would make unaccompanied.

Garbed in dark grays and greens, it was hard in the low light to gather much detail about the individual before him. A dark green hood hid his facial features. His matching dark green cloak, however, did nothing to conceal the two sheathed swords the stranger carried. Nor the bow, encased behind him. Donovan noted, his unknown visitor’s manner exuded confidence.

“Who are you? I ask you to stand aside so I may continue upon my way.”

The dark figure before him remained motionless. His horse’s nickering was the only sound Prince Donovan could hear.

“I mean you no harm, can you not speak? I have ridden long this day and would continue to my destination this night. I ask for you to please let me pass.”

“The road is open to those who are wise and prudent. However, these are perilous times where evil travels at will across these lands. To travel so openly alone is foolhardy at best Prince Donovan.”

The stranger’s bold reply alarmed Prince Donovan, filling him with concern. Donovan reined in his destrier and studied the dark figure before him. He waited for the unknown rider to make the first move; only the stranger remained mounted and motionless.

“Who are you to speak to me so? I mean you no harm, this needn’t come to bloodshed.”

The dark-garbed figure before him dismounted, fluidly drawing his two curved swords from their sheaths. The stranger turned towards Donovan and bowed. “I merely speak the truth. You may pass for a price Prince Donovan. Tell me what I wish to know, and you may leave.”

In disbelief, Donovan dismounted drawing his sword and dagger. “I ask you to let me pass. This road runs both ways.”

“Are you going to tell me what I wish to know or meet me in fair combat? I am seeking information about the princess. Give it to me, and you may pass.”

Without pause, Donovan attacked, his blade whistling in from the side. In a blur, his blow was deflected, seemingly without effort. The prince prepared to defend against the stranger’s counterattack. Before him, a blade whirlwind now spun. Abruptly, a sword darted out towards his exposed throat. The thrusts speed forced Donovan to fall back and to the side while he parried the thrust. Prince Donovan promptly recovered and prepared to advance once more.

“Your form is not bad. However, you should lower your center of gravity more. You have not completed your master’s sword training.”

Donovan paused for a moment, attempting to glean a nugget of information about his adversary. “Who are you?” The prince attacked once more. His opponent’s sword struck the flat of his blade and deflected it aside. This time, a kick slammed into Prince Donovan’s right thigh, causing an explosion of pain. Its impact caused him to spin on past his intended target, leaving his back exposed.

“Nice attempt to improvise, yet there are more effective ways. Perhaps, you should fight me some other day when you have rested. I seek the Princess, give me the information I need, and you may leave.”

“I will tell you nothing about Princess Morgan. I swear you will not live long enough to harm a hair on her head.”

“Hold, Prince Donovan. I must apologize for my unseemly rude behavior. In today’s trying times, I had to make sure exactly where your loyalties lay.” The man before him pulled the hood off his head, revealing a handsome, rugged face. Dark hair sprinkled with gray, along with a well-trimmed mustache and goatee completed his appearance. With a pleasant smile on his face, the swordsman sheathed his swords.

“My name is Girard Addenay. I believe Princess Morgan is in mortal danger, and I seek your friendship and assistance in rescuing her.”

With eyes wide in amazement, Donovan stopped and sheathed his sword and dagger. The name Girard Addenay was known far and wide, for he was reputed to be the greatest swordsman to have ever lived. His exploits were legendary. Donovan had thought he had died, as no one had heard anything about him for at least two years.

“Come, I have some fresh venison that is ready for roasting. There is much we need to discuss. I have a great deal to tell you about what’s been happening in Etria and Caralon,” Girard said with a pleasant smile.

The swordsman led the way into the forest. Over a small hill, nestled in a hollow beside a stream, lay a campsite hidden from the road. Firewood was piled neatly beside a fire pit. Beyond the stacked logs, stood a simple makeshift tent. The site appeared to have all the comforts of a home roughly. Both Girard and Donovan tied their horses in the lush green grass and removed their saddles and gear. After today’s long journey, the prince was forced to admit a full belly and good night’s rest sounded wonderful. Added to this was the fact he was about to help make plans to rescue Morgan. It appeared the situation was starting to improve.

Girard kindled a fire, building it up to make a bed of coals. For a few moments, the swordsman tended the fire quietly, while gazing into the flames. His new ally turned to face Donovan once more. “For the past year, I have taught Princess Morgan how to use a sword properly. Each day, I enjoyed instructing her on how to defend herself.”

Donovan listened to everything Girard said and nodded, urging him to continue.

“Late this last winter, a stranger arrived. I tell you now; I do not like this man,” Girard said. “I tried to convince King Aramus to send him away. The stranger arrived with great gifts; his demeanor so charming.”

With this, Girard gazed at him and smiled. “After about two months, King Aramus and this stranger became fast friends. Each time I attempted to learn his name or tried to approach him, I was turned away by the king.”

Donovan nodded, quietly mulling over what Girard had told him. Everything fit perfectly with what he already knew. The stranger was evil and had considerable power to be able to accomplish what he had already done.

“King Aramus started to act strangely, like a different man. More and more, he ignored Princess Morgan,” Girard explained. “It was like she was no longer there. The stranger started taking part in making important decisions with the king.”

So far, everything Girard described fit well with what he experienced upon Morgan’s return to Etria.

“One evening, I am sitting off to the side, drinking a pint of ale. I overheard the stranger speak, stating he had heard a rumor about Etmindor violating a treaty and raiding a former ally,” To my surprise, King Aramus nodded in agreement. I inquired as to where the stranger heard this information. Quickly, I was silenced by the king, while the stranger shook his head.”

Girard retrieved the venison from a sealed fired-clay jug cooling in the stream. Placing the meat and its green-wood spit above the glowing coals, the swordsman seasoned it with great care.

“Much to my surprise, I am awakened early the following morning by the stranger and armed guards. Before I knew it, the outsider told me my services were no longer required. I was forced to leave Etria by an armed escort.”

Donovan carefully explained to Girard, what had happened in Drennard and up till until now. They spent the next few hours eating the venison, along with a few small coarse bread loaves, while discussing what had transpired. Before the evening was over, rough plans had been formed to rescue Morgan.

“I have contacts inside Etria who will assist us if needed. In a few days, they will update me on the princess’s condition. Our timing and plans must be perfect, for her sake,” Girard said. He lay upon his bedroll, which was cushioned by ferns and pine boughs.

Donovan lay quietly beneath his heavy blanket, upon a similar bed. An ally had stepped forward, and it had given him strength. As Prince Donovan lay there with a full stomach and his blanket’s warmth, sleep finally came to him on silent wings.