Elvangar fl-6

  Elvangar

  ( Forgotten legacy - 6 )

  Richard S. Tuttle

  Richard S. Tuttle

  Elvangar

  Our story so far

  Our story so far…

  Young Lord of Khadora is the story of a young soldier who is unhappy with the culture of his country. His superb military skills, and the loyalty of his troops, enable Marak to take the reins of a minor Situ estate when the opportunity arises. When the neighboring lords conspire against Lord Marak, he uses cunning, courage, and unconventional warfare to subdue them. When his own protector, Lord Ridak of the Situ Clan, turns against Lord Marak, the young lord strikes a blow for a new culture. He creates his own clan, the Torak clan, and defies the norms by freeing his slaves. At the end of volume one, Lord Marak secretly controls five small clans on the frontier of Khadora.

  Star of Sakova introduces Lyra, a young mage student who is thrust into an unfamiliar world by an attack on her father’s magic academy. Running for her life, Lyra enters the dreaded Sakova, expecting death at every turn. Instead, she finds that the god Kaltara has chosen her to lead the Sakovan people. Young Lyra unravels the mystery of the attack on the magic academy and the kidnapping of her father, Master Malafar. During the struggle to save the Sakovan people from ruin, Lord Marak visits and discovers long lost ties between the Sakovans and the people of his Chula father. By the end of volume two of the Forgotten Legacy, Lyra displays magic talents that only Kaltara could have given her. She faces off against the false Katana Alazar and defeats him in a public display that eliminates the threat of war.

  Web of Deceit features a young villager from a remote area of Fakara. The story opens with the destruction of Rejji’s village and a chance meeting with Mistake, a young elf-like woman. Rejji and Mistake are captured by slavers and sold to a Khadoran estate where they befriend a young Fakaran with the rare ability to speak with animals. Lord Marak frees the trio from slavery as he seeks to learn more about the strange country of Fakara. When the trio returns to Fakara, they become embroiled in a power struggle between the Jiadin tribe and the rest of the tribesmen, known as the Free Tribes. On a trip to the Sage of the Mountain, Rejji discovers that he is the long-awaited Astor of prophecy. He finds a painting in the ancient lost city of Angragar that depicts Lord Marak, Lyra, and himself. By the end of volume three, Rejji succeeds in uniting the Free Tribes under his banner and defeating the Jiadin. He immediately makes plans to rebuild his native country.

  Aakuta: the Dark Mage introduces a new, mysterious figure. A powerful, dark mage suddenly appears in a country devoid of male mages. The mage appears to have no allegiances in the growing struggle between Lord Marak and the forces of evil, but he has the habit of always showing up when conflict erupts. Meanwhile, Lord Marak tries to rouse Khadora into stopping an invasion by the Jiadin. Not only do the other lords refuse to help him, but they are actively trying to ruin him through attacks and assassination attempts. The secret alliances long held by Lord Marak are eventually discovered as Marak first ascends to the Lords’ Council and eventually becomes Emperor of Khadora. At the conclusion of volume four, Emperor Marak is uniting Khadora under his banner. His plan is to rally all of the armies to help him combat the coming invasion of evil.

  In Island of Darkness, a false Katana again rules Omunga. War is declared on the Sakovans even while Vand’s people poison the food supply of Omunga. Emperor Marak guides Lyra as she attempts to win the war without causing too many casualties. She knows about the coming invasion from across the sea and is forced to preserve as many of her Omungan enemy as possible. Meanwhile, Mistake and MistyTrail discover that they are sisters. They set out on a sea voyage and are shipwrecked off the Island of Darkness. As they search for a way to get home, the sisters discover elves, which were long thought to be extinct. In their bid for freedom, the sisters must rescue a pair of elves to get them off the island. During the rescues, the women discover many dark secrets of the evil enemy. At the end of volume five, Emperor Marak has ordered his people to deliver Mistake and her new friends to Khadoratung where he hopes to learn more about Vand and the lost nation of elves.

  Prologue

  Thousands of years ago…

  Kieran yawned and stretched as the first rays of the sun peeked through the window of his small room. He rose from the bed and walked to the window. His almond-shaped eyes blinked twice as he gazed out at the sunlight flashing through the trees of the forest. His right hand rose reflexively to shade his face from the glare of the morning sun. The young elf inhaled deeply, as if to sample the air of the new day, before turning to the washbasin on the table next to the window. He quickly washed and excitedly hurried to the kitchen for the morning meal.

  “The sun is already up,” his mother chided jokingly. “You have already lost the first race of the day.”

  “Good morning, Mother,” smiled Kieran. “I guess I did stay up too late last night, but I want very much to score highly on the test today. I still have several hours before I must be there.”

  “You worry too much,” his mother smiled as she placed a bowl of oatmeal on the table. “Your talents are strong, and you study hard. You will do fine.”

  “I know,” nodded Kieran as he sat down and drew the bowl to him. “Doing fine is not the question, though. I seek to score the highest ever recorded on the mage test. I think I can do it.”

  “I am sure that you can,” smiled his mother. “I suppose you will be studying some more before you leave this morning?”

  “No, Mother,” Kieran replied seriously as he pushed the bowl of oatmeal away and rose from his chair. “More studying will not help me. I am going to the temple to pray.”

  Kieran’s mother smiled proudly as her son rose. Kieran hugged her and then rushed out the door of the house and down the flight of stairs to the beach. As he ran along the beach towards the center of Alamanda, his eyes were drawn towards the sea. He almost stumbled and fell as he came to an abrupt halt.

  Far off on the horizon were a dozen large ships, far more than Kieran had ever seen at any one time. His eyes strained to identify them, but they were too far off. He shrugged and continued his run towards the elven city and the temple within it.

  The elven homes that he raced past were modest wooden structures nestled in the sevemore trees that lined the beach. He paid no mind to them as his eyes focused on the gleaming stone buildings of the city before him. Excitement coursed through his body as his feet left the sand and landed on the stone blocks of the city street. His eyes darted towards the quay where elven trading ships were loading goods destined for foreign and exotic shores. On any other morning, Kieran would have been tempted to stay and watched the loading and listen to the stories told by the elven sailors, but not today. Today was a special day. It was the day of his mage testing.

  Kieran turned away from the harbor and ran towards the temple. He smiled and waved to friends and strangers alike as he raced through the city streets. Many of the residents of Alamanda knew Kieran and most knew that this day was his day of testing. Shouts of encouragement followed Kieran all the way to the temple. He grinned broadly at the encouragement as he slowed to a walk at the base of the stairs to the temple. As excited as he was, Kieran knew better than to run within the temple.

  Kieran solemnly climbed the outside steps leading to the main level of the temple. He walked through the entrance doors and headed for the staircase that would take him to the roof. A priest coming down the stairs stopped and watched Kieran cross the entry foyer of the temple.

  “Today is your day,” smiled the priest. “I am pleased to see that you have taken time for your devotions. One must never forget their obligations to Kaltara.”

  “I would never forget,” Kieran responded with a smile. “It i
s Kaltara that will aid me today. Without God, I have no talents.”

  “You are a wise boy,” nodded the priest. “You do not have to go to the roof. There are many empty prayer rooms available. Would you like me to pray with you today?”

  “No, thank you,” replied Kieran, “although you could offer a prayer for me if it pleases you. Besides, I prefer the roof. I feel as if it places me closer to God.”

  The priest placed a hand on Kieran’s shoulder and nodded. “It would please me to pray for you,” he smiled. “Go to the roof. Do not keep Kaltara waiting.”

  Kieran smiled and nodded and started up the stairs. He fought the urge to run up the stairs, and each step seemed to last forever. Finally, the elven boy reached to the top of the stairs. He moved out onto the roof and stared up at the sky with reverence. The sun was over the tops of the sevemore trees as he knelt in the center of the roof and began praying. Time lost all meaning for Kieran.

  The first indication of trouble was the smell of smoke. Kieran pushed the distraction from his mind as he concentrated on his prayers. Suddenly, shouts ripped through the air and the elven boy found that he could no longer concentrate. He rose to his feet and felt a shock ripple through his body as his eyes took in the sight below him.

  Twelve great ships sat off the coast of Alamanda. Fiery arrows rained from the ships towards the city and the sevemore forests surrounding it. Elves raced away from the water’s edge as magicians on the ships began casting fiery projectiles at the city. The reverberations of impacting force bolts echoed off the stone streets and buildings. Kieran watched in horror as stone buildings collapsed and great fires raced through the forest. His first thought was for the safety of his mother. He turned to race into the temple, but he found the friendly priest coming out onto the roof.

  “Kieran,” the priest said seriously, “you must carry a message to the king.”

  “I cannot,” protested Kieran. “I must get my mother to safety.”

  “It is already too late for that,” frowned the priest as he pointed along the coast. “They struck that area on the way in. There is no hope for the families living there.”

  “But I must try,” cried Kieran. “Send someone else to the king.”

  The priest placed both hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Hear me, Kieran,” the priest said sternly. “There is no time to waste. The humans are intent on destroying all of us. Already their smaller boats are bringing troops to shore. You have always had strong faith in Kaltara, but I doubt that you realize how strong Kaltara’s faith is in you. It is Kaltara that has commanded me to come up here and send you to the king. You are the only one who can make it there. Kaltara will guide you.”

  “What am I to say to the king?” asked Kieran as tears flowed down his cheeks.

  “Tell him that Angragar has attacked us,” instructed the priest. “Tell him that humans have betrayed us as was foretold. Remind him that he was told to never trust the humans. Make him swear revenge for this treachery.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kieran shook his head. “Why would the humans do this?”

  “The humans have turned away from Kaltara,” explained the priest. “Never again can the elves trust the humans. Go now. Run swiftly, and may Kaltara watch over you.”

  Kieran raced into the temple and down the stairs. When he emerged from the temple, he faltered as his eyes took in the destruction of the city. Piles of stone rubble lined the streets where shops and trade stalls used to be. Everything that was flammable was burning, including the forest on both sides of the city. Elven bodies littered the streets, and small boats were ferrying humans to the quay. Several strong blasts struck the temple, sending showers of stone over the steps. Kieran reflexively ducked as slivers of stone rained down upon him. Suddenly, the priest stepped out of the door of the temple. His white robes were covered in blood and one of his eyes was swollen shut.

  “Run, Kieran,” commanded the priest. “Run with every shred of your energy. Go now.”

  Kieran stared with horror at the old priest. He immediately turned and raced down the steps of the temple and into the forest behind it.

  Chapter 1

  In the Land of Humans

  The Balomar soldiers halted in front of the inn, which was several hours ride from the Khadoran city of Chantise. The cortain rose in his saddle and silently issued orders to his men. One squad of twenty soldiers rode past the inn and positioned themselves on the road to the east. Another squad turned and blocked the road to the west.

  “Is this really necessary?” Lord Oktar questioned. “We have no right to block the road.”

  “I promised Marshal Berman that I would take every precaution,” replied the cortain. “As soon as we determine that the inn is safe, our men will unblock the road. I will keep a few men posted on the road to make sure that no armies are approaching, but the rest will make camp behind the building.”

  The lord of the Balomar clan nodded with resignation as the cortain issued orders to the third squad of soldiers under his command. Four soldiers dismounted and approached the inn. Two went around to the rear of the building while the other two opened the front door and entered. Within moments the soldiers returned with Marshal Berman in tow. The marshal paused outside the front door of the inn as his eyes swept the area to note the position of the Balomar troops. He nodded with approval as he approached Lord Oktar.

  “Well done, Cortain,” the marshal said. “Have your men make camp out back. One squad at a time may enter the inn and dine while the rest keep watch.”

  “What about blocking the road?” asked the Balomar lord. “That is uncalled for since the Emperor’s decree regarding attacks on neighboring clans.

  “It is not neighboring clans that triggers my caution,” explained Marshal Berman. “There have been strange reports of murders recently. I will not allow the Lord of the Balomar clan to be assassinated under my watch. The road will be watched, but not blocked. Let’s get inside.”

  Lord Oktar nodded, and the cortain ordered his men to dismount. Half of the squad preceded the Balomar lord into the inn, and the other half followed. The soldiers filled the benches on one side of the common room, reserving the far corner table for their lord and marshal. The other half of the common room was left open for travelers. The innkeeper’s eyes brightened as he watched the soldiers taking their seats. The three lone travelers already in the common room watched with curiosity, but soon returned their attention to their meals.

  “Tell me about these murders,” prompted Lord Oktar after he had ordered meals from the innkeeper.

  “There is little to tell,” frowned the Balomar marshal. “They are random attacks, and no one can see the reasons behind them.”

  “They are not attempted robberies?” inquired the lord.

  “No,” Marshal Berman shook his head. “They are just senseless murders. The assassins are unknown to the victims as best we can tell. People are afraid to stray from their estates.”

  “Have any of the assassins been caught?” asked Lord Oktar.

  “Not yet,” replied the marshal, “but I have spoken with the neighboring clans, and we have all agreed to try to capture one.”

  “Well, I don’t think a lone murderer is going to take on an entire corte of troops,” shrugged the lord. “That would be suicide.”

  “You are probably correct,” nodded the marshal, “but I will keep you protected regardless. Why are you not returning directly to the estate?”

  “Emperor Marak is still having trouble convincing some of the clans to send their troops to Khadoratung for training,” explained Lord Oktar. “He asked me to visit some of the recalcitrant lords and convince them of the need to join together.”

  “Why are they refusing?” frowned the marshal. “Emperor Marak has the blessing of the Lords’ Council in this endeavor. Do they think the battle with the Jiadin is the end of our troubles?”

  “Some do not see any troubles on the horizon,” conceded Lord Oktar. “They
are demanding proof of the Emperor’s warnings.”

  “How can he prove anything to them before the invasion is actually launched?” responded the marshal. “Must they see the armies of the enemy to realize the danger that they are in?”

  “Some would probably try to find an innocent explanation even then,” sighed Lord Oktar. “I do not have much hope of success for this mission, but I promised Emperor Marak that I would try my best.”

  “How long will you be away from the estate?” asked the marshal.

  “Perhaps a week more,” shrugged the lord. “I do not plan to spend a great deal of time at any one estate. If they will not listen to my plea, I will leave for the next estate.”

  “I want every precaution taken,” Marshal Berman demanded as he turned to the cortain beside him. “Lord Oktar is to be always surrounded by your men. Do you understand?”

  The cortain nodded as the door to the common room opened. A middle-aged man entered the room. His dark cloak had a hood, but the traveler had chosen not to use it. His beady eyes scanned the room slowly as he took a seat at an empty table on the side of the room opposite the Balomar troops. The innkeeper delivered plates of food to some of the soldiers and then walked across the room to the newcomer. The stranger ordered a meal and a cup of ale. He stared vacantly across the room as he waited for his food.

  Marshal Berman watched the new arrival in silence for a few moments. When the innkeeper delivered the man’s food, the traveler sniffed the plate cautiously, his hawkish nose crinkling with concern. He finally shrugged and began eating his food.

  “Do you watch every traveler with such interest?” Lord Oktar asked as he noted the marshal’s distraction.

  “I guess I do,” sighed the marshal as he returned his attention to the Balomar lord. “It is one thing to protect a lord against known enemies, but suspecting every unknown person has become irritating. I will feel safer when you are back on the estate. Perhaps I should double your guard.”