Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (3 page)

They marched east, always wary of the woods around
them. On these narrow, winding roads, passing north of the
kingdoms, creatures found ample space for attack. The
days and nights, however, passed uneventfully but for the
frequent problems with the heat. Crat and Tych never
walked together, partially because of Lendril, but also
because of the rivalry.

Crat felt cheated by life. His brother walked with a
beautiful girl, a jeweled scabbard slapping against his
soldier’s armor. Crat walked with the younger di Thain
children, a boring lot of garbage, if one wanted to ask him.
He only carried a small sword. ‘Much too small,’ he
thought to himself. ‘It’s almost smaller than Tych’s
daggers, which he’s so good with, of course. If they treated
me as well as him, I’d be just as talented.’ All this
rambling made no sense because Crat received treatment no
different than any of the di Corl children. Unfortunately,
nothing could prevent these thoughts, since Tych’s talents
came naturally and Crat hid a dark secret.

The jealous prince became even more infuriated when
Tych was invited to participate in a counsel on the third
night of the trip. Lendril kissed Tych, causing Crat to
grimace, and went to help her brothers and sisters with
getting into bed. Crat slipped off and went to his mat, evil
thoughts running around and around his head.

Thain, Tych, Morg and Morg’s general were bent over
a map of the continent on the ground. “If you don’t mind
me saying so, My Lord, we’re really not in a hurry and
crossing through kingdoms would be very dangerous.”
Taller than Morg, the general lacked looks but made up for
it in skill. He had many scars from his five hundred years
of battling to prove it.

Thain examined the orange-eyed general carefully then
turned to Tych. The prince squirmed until the older man
turned to the king. “My Lord, the mountain route is fraught
with peril from the xadineft and longer than through the
kingdoms.”

Morg had already voted to pass through the kingdoms
and now turned to Tych. “Tych, do you have an argument
to present?”

The prince had regained his composure and looked
pensive for a moment. He leaned over the map and
pointed. “If we travel far enough into the Efres to avoid the
armies of these kingdoms during the day, we would be safe
from the xadineft. If I’m not mistaken, they can’t survive
in the sun.”

Thain interjected, “You’re absolutely correct.”
“During the night, when we have an advantage over the
humans with our infra vision, we can come down into the
kingdom. That way, we’ll have their patrols to protect us
from the xadineft, leaving us safest day and night.”

The general looked at Tych with deep respect. “He’s
right. To travel or sleep in the kingdoms by day is
dangerous but in the mountains it is relatively safe. Then
the kingdoms are safe at night.”

Morg sat back on his butt and sighed. “I wish we didn’t
have to fear humans and they wouldn’t fear us.” He sat
back up. “Okay, we’ll take the long way by the mountains.
My son has made a fine plan of travel. Now let us get
some rest.” The meeting broke up.

Tych quickly found Lendril and they slipped off into
the woods, close enough to get help but far enough to kiss
undisturbed. Crat stirred long enough to notice them
leaving, clamped down his jaw and rolled over.

They took Tych’s path and the encounters were so few
that they made quick progress to the home of the mendar.
Summer began a few days after their arrival. The mendar
looked like the endarils but for their deep brown skin and
darker hair. A blond mendar was a rarity, and the mendar
lived only twelve hundred years at most. Their village,
Wood Haven, sat at the intersection of the Seftrels and the
Efres, on the south side of the former, in a small forest of
conifers.

When autumn came they moved on, heading towards
the southern tip of the Efres and the home of the thrandrils.
They had the same color skin as the humans of the south,
light but usually tanned. The village stood in a grove of
green deciduous trees with the soft days filtering down to a
plush carpet of grass and moss. Like Wood Haven and the
Hidden Valley, Greenhaven residents wore little if any
clothing.

The endarils arrived in Greenhaven at the beginning of
winter, but while snow fell on the Hidden Valley, they were
under a hot sun and the temperatures of a northern summer.
To avoid the cold of the north, they stayed through winter
before once again marching out.

They reached the northern border of the most northern
kingdom and turned east. Summer had just begun, but this
close to Rangdor the weather was unpredictable: snow fell
on the Northern Plain. Their spirits, however, were high,
because to this point their trip had been uneventful.

Their luck changed on the third day of travel on the
tallgrassed plains. A soldier that had been walking wide came
running up yelling “to arms!” Tych, Lendril, Cort and one
of the other soldiers bolted prematurely, since they had
been deep in conversation and didn’t think first.

Before they knew it, they were several echelons deep in
forangen, red-skinned humanoids with pig-like snouts, pink
eyes and sword-like horns protruding from their foreheads.
They stood as tall as a horse’s head but died easily due to
fragile anatomies. The four had carved their way in and
had the forces flow past them until they were cut off from
the other expedition members.

At first the endarils made progress towards the four
separated soldiers but then more of the enemy arrived and
pushed them back. Tych groaned at the increased numbers
as he ran one through. He had fought at least fifteen of
them with Cort behind him, Lendril on his right and the
soldier on his left, each with his or her back covered.

The battle raged for fifteen minutes before Tych fell
into a steady pattern. The others around him were too busy
to notice, but a blue sheen of light had covered his armor
with warm energy. While his three companions began to
tire, he gained in strength.

Endarilan females that are also soldiers learn martial art
tricks to make up for the difference in strength. Here,
however, in these close quarters, Lendril was tiring faster
than the others and her blows lost strength. Finally, she
had to take a step back and her shoulder touched Tych’s.
He felt her there and his concern and worry sent the energy
gathering in his body coursing through her system. She
caught sight of the warm light around her partner and her
eyes grew wide as she turned and decapitated her opponent.
Taking two steps forward, both in aggressiveness and fear,
the energy left her.

Lendril deflected a blow but it glanced off her leg and
she fell. Nausea and shock began to overwhelm her but she
kept her sword up by force of will, resisting a downward
blow. Falling on her side, she heard Tych yell, “Lendril is
down, get her in the middle!” Cort’s sword intercepted the
next blow coming towards her and the young endaril sighed
in relief and passed out.

Tych glanced down then cleaved a forangen’s head
down the middle. His attention had strayed long enough
for a war hammer to catch him on his sword arm sending
him crashing to the ground. The blade fell from his hand.
The forangen closed in to finish him off but the fighter’s
foot struck out and crushed his enemy’s windpipe with
unnatural strength. Using his good left arm, he stood and
began to kick and strike out with his shield. He defeated
three more opponents before cutting short a blow at a
horse. Looking up, he saw a dark-skinned man dressed in
leather armor and a grey cloak smiling down at him.

Tych turned to see similarly dressed men finishing off a
few skirmishes. Cort climbed onto a horse and the soldier
mounted an empty one. Then Tych noticed Lendril had
disappeared.

Seeing the distressed look on the endaril’s face, the
human chuckled softly and said, “She’s safe. We returned
her to your army where your father is tending to her. Don’t
know why you let your women fight. C’mon up and I’ll
help you join her. Hand me that sword first.”

Before they could ride off, Tych said, “She’s one of the
best soldiers you’ll ever see.”

Within a day the endarils marched again. Tych, his arm
in a sling, sat next to Lendril, bandages wrapped thickly
around her thigh. Morg had healed the broken bones but
they were fragile.

The young prince left his partner’s side and rode up
next to his father. “Who were those men that helped us?”

“They were a free army. Sometimes warriors decide
that they wish to serve the good of the continent instead of
one of many kings and search out other men of the same
sympathies. Both evil and good armies exist, but these
were good. Many members of this army believe that one
day they can serve a united kingdom. They believe that the
kingdoms will be brought under one leader, but not a
human one.”

Tych gasped is surprise. He thought all humans felt
their race to be superior. “What race do they think?”

“Endaril. This is why they didn’t hesitate to help us for
fear that leader was among us.” Morg failed to notice that
Thain, riding next to him, smiled at this. “It was fortunate
they came, for both you and Lendril.”

Tych sat lost in thought for a moment then asked, “Why
do the kingdoms allow such forces to exist?”

Morg nodded. “There are enough humans who feel that
the continent should be under one ruler that the choices of
the free soldiers are supported. The evil armies ride to
serve Rangdor’s minions and a treaty signed by all thirteen
rulers protects the good. Still, the free armies will not enter
some kingdoms because they are not welcomed kindly.”

“They are allies then?”

Morg laughed a deep rumbling laugh. “Only in that we
fight a common enemy. Otherwise, those of us that have
taken the oath are as limited in our dealings as we would be
with the kingdoms. You have a quick mind, my son.”

“Thank you, father,” said Tych and he slipped back to
Lendril’s side.

They reached the Hidden Valley five weeks later. The
sun shone there, bright, as a summer sun should. Tych was
working out his arm when they hit the edge of the magic
field that protected the valley. Some force tossed him from
the saddle as if a giant hand had picked him up and thrown
him. He controlled his landing with a roll and came up
with his sword in hand, ready to fight his enemy.

All the power that had tormented him years earlier
slammed into his mind. The prince crumpled to his knees
as the endarils watched, confused by what was happening.
Corl appeared, only barely cutting off Lendril. “Stay back
or you’ll be in grave danger.” The wizard approached his
grandson. Energy appeared around the youth’s body and
crackled like lightning.

Frantically, Corl began chanting. He was not fast
enough, however, and the energy leaped towards him. The
wizard staggered back but resumed his approach, casting
his spell and grimacing in pain. A few feet from the
downed warrior, his progress stopped, the forces against
him too strong.

Morg appeared next to his father and added his spells as
Corl fell back from the ever-increasing strength. Once
again they made progress but before they could touch the
prince, the energy doubled in strength and tossed them
back. Morg struggled to get up, the end of the chant
allowing energy to enter him beyond his capacity. Corl
saw Lendril nearing the edge of the energy as he fainted,
yelling for her to stay away.

When Tych first stood, sword in hand, his mind was a
blur. Suddenly, a feeling of dread had washed over him, as
if a giant floodgate had been opened. His memories of the
pain took away the strength in his legs, forcing him to
crumble. Images began to race through his head of long
dead armies marching across endarilan villages and the
ground upheaving in tumultuous explosions. Slowly, the
pain subsided, but in his fear, he failed to notice.

A feeling of uncontrolled strength replaced his fear with
ecstasy for a moment, then the dread returned even
stronger. The images stayed in his mind’s eye longer.
Now he could tell the armies were human and the two
themes were eons apart. His mind screamed as the
floodgates of energy burst. He felt such distress at these
revived forces that it disabled his ability to control them, so
they flowed out of his body forming the field around him.

Like a beacon the energy brought back the image of the
humanoid leader of The Thirteen. The creature laughed
hideously. “Serve me and I will control the energy for you.
The pain will be gone. Come, my...” The creature stopped.
“Your feeble grandfather tries to enter.” The disseminator
of fear tossed his hands and the pain left Tych momentarily
while all energy left. Then more energy replaced it but the
lapse lasted long enough for Tych to weakly fight its
destructiveness.

“They seek to help you but cannot.” Tych listened but
could now sense Corl in the energy. “Now your father
tries.” The beast tossed his hands up again. Tych gained
control over the flow of energy. The humanoid screamed.
“No, it is impossible to learn so fast. Feel fear!” Like a
giant fireball, a sphere of energy, pure hate, flew towards
the metaphoric position of Tych. The prince screamed and
more energy ran out of control.

“Only I may stop it. Pledge your service to me!
Together we can...” Surprise lit the creature’s face and
Tych felt the presence of Lendril in the energy. “NO!
Stop, I command you!” Once again Fear threw his hands
up. Then he repeated it. Still Tych could feel Lendril
coming closer, seemingly protected by an envelope around
her. “Who is she?!” The creature gasped. “A fey warrior.
Her enchantment is too strong for me.” Now Fear
screamed. Tych felt Lendril’s hands on either side of his
head.