Aelethia's Hope

Leandra Martin

Description

With the completion of Melenthia's training by the elves, she is ready to return to the love of her life. With her knowledge and training, and the revelation that she has Elvin blood, she hopes her relationship with Dain won't fail, or the destiny she must face in defeating the darkness. Fallon has grown strong and is preparing for war.

Kevaan and his knights plan to take back Lachlan Castle from Fallon's grip, and Alek must reach the Chancellor in the west before war breaks out. With faith that the Isamarians will join them in the fight to save the world, Melenthia will prepare herself for the ultimate battle, one against Fallon and the Dark One.

Join Melenthia and her friends on this perilous battle between good and evil. Will this be the end for her and Dain? With Tanith's power, will she be able to withstand the strength of Fallon and the Dark One? Or will she fail and watch as all of Aelethia falls into darkness? This is the exciting finale of the journey of the Chosen One and her powerful sword Tanith.

Sujets

• Fantastique
• Romance fantastique
• Fiction
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 05 octobre 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456615758
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Aelethia’s Hope
Leandra Martin
Cover Art by Bonnie Wasson

 
 
This is a work of fiction. The events, characters, and cover art, described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
 
Aelethia’s Hope
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright January 2013 Leandra Martin
Cover by Bonnie Wasson
V3.0
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the expressed written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
ISBN: 13: 978-1-4566-1575-8

 
 
 
To my sons Nick & Kyler:
May your imaginations know no bounds.

 


 


 
 
Other Books by Leandra Martin
 
L’Landra’s Tale Series:
A New Day for the Dauntless
Ghosts, Past and Future
 
The Tanith Prophecy Series:
Dark One Rising
 
Coming Soon:
L’Landra’s Tale: Riding The Storm Out
Summer of 2013
CHAPTER 1
A black leather clad figure galloped hard down the main road into Kingswell, taking the cobbled street up to the castle. When the guards on the parapet walls saw him, they raised the portcullis for him to enter. His horse was heaving and foam gathered at the sides of his mouth. He had ridden non-stop for weeks, stopping only to water his horse and stretch his aching limbs. He felt guilty about riding his horse practically to death, but his mission was clear. Get to His Grace in a timely manner to relay the news he had obtained. He rode as if his life depended on it, and it probably did. Fallon had not been happy with the news that had reached him as of late, and he decisively took it out on the messengers. If their news was not what he wanted to hear, it was their last dispatch. The man swallowed. He knew he had news that His Grace would be pleased about, but feared for his life all the same. Fallon was short tempered and hard hearted, and he generally took out his anger an anyone near, no matter who it was. He had gone through five retainers in the last few months, and it was common knowledge that he didn’t care how many he killed. Ever since he had taken over Lachlan Castle and proclaimed himself king of Aaralyn, he had been even harder to deal with, his arrogance and power hungry soul even harder to appease. He knew he had information valuable to the despot, but he certainly didn’t want to die because Fallon felt his return was too slow.
He raced up the road and through the gate just as the portcullis was being raised. He dismounted in mid-trot and threw the reins down, not waiting for a boy to exit the stables and take them. He took the stairs two at a time and walked quickly down the hallway.
The halls were dark and dingy now, the thick stone permeated with something black, the sinister lighting creating eerie shadows as he passed by the torches.
The castle was once a vibrant place, light and festive and filled with conversing nobles. Now it was quiet, and there was no longer vibrancy. Since killing off Randor and taking his throne while Prince Kevaan was away, Fallon was taking to his new seat with indifference. He didn’t perform any of the kingly duties that were required. He would never take to ruling the country until he had his queen beside him. The information the retainer carried with him today would start that campaign soon enough.
He entered the hall and approached the throne with cautious steps. When he was close enough to the dais and Fallon could see him, he prostrated himself on one knee, placing his riding helmet under his arm in respect. The hard cold floor dug into his knee, but he waited silent and still for Fallon to give him leave to stand again. The moments seemed to drag, and the messenger suspected it was for dramatic effect and ridiculous pleasure, nothing more. When Fallon gave his permission, the messenger stood and bowed quickly to his liege.
“What news do you bring to me, Gartlan, and it better be good. You’re late, and I’m in a foul mood. No one else has brought me anything of use, and I grow tired of being in the dark about what the southern king is up to.”
“I do have important news, Your Grace. News that will please you.”
“Do not assume what will please me and what will not! I haven’t been impressed with any of the messages brought to me in the last couple of months. I grow tired of being surrounded by fools.”
“Yes, My Lord. I have information that I think you will find important. King Dainard is rallying his army and has all of the cities across the border secure. I heard that a runner got through to Pembroke, and the General is pulling his garrison in from the port and distributing them into Boones Ferry to await your army from the sea. Kevaan did reach Charbonneau safely and is getting his troops together as well. They plan on standing against you.”
“I already know that, you simpleton. I have given them time to do this. I don’t want to go into battle with armies that are too easily defeated. There is no honor in that, or pleasure for me. I want information that I don’t have or news that has evaded my mind-sight spells.
“I know where the princess has been hiding.”
At that, Fallon snapped his head up and stared at the messenger. “You had better not be misinformed, sir, or it will be the last words you utter.”
“No, My Lord, my information is accurate. The princess has been shielded from you because she is no longer at Drydon Keep. She has been with the elves in Vallis.”
Fallon’s face changed to one of annoyance and then to anger. The messenger was unsure if the news he brought was worth the trouble he had gone through to obtain it. He was afraid Fallon was going to kill him.
Fallon looked down on him and sneered. “So, the elves and the king think they can keep her from me. Well I will take her no matter where she hides. The sacred walls of the ancient city will not hold me back forever. I have become powerful enough to break through.”
“You may not have to, My Lord. She has completed her purpose to be there and is on her way back to Drydon Keep.”
Fallon stared at the messenger and his eyes turned darker. “She is out in the open now?”
“Yes, My Lord. She was seen riding through Mercer not a week ago. She should be at the Keep in a few days.”
Fallon’s sneer turned into a smile, but he gazed off into the nothingness, as if he were seeing something Gartlan could not. “This is good news, Gartlan. Better than I could have hoped for.”
“There is more, Your Grace.” Fallon focused once again on his now favorite spy. “The elves and the dwarves have agreed to an alliance with King Kevaan and King Dainard. They are preparing for war.”
“What about the Chancellor and the Isamarians?”
“No word about their stance yet, Your Grace, but rumor has it that the Bounty Hunter is on his way with an entourage from Vallis into the Free Cities to speak with the Chancellor and his council. They are going to try and get an alliance from them as well.”
Fallon rubbed a gloved hand across his bearded chin. “The Chancellor will not easily join. He is stubborn and doesn’t want to get involved with things that don’t concern him. King Dainard has a silver tongue and is good at persuasion, but I think even he’ll be hard pressed to convince them. We still have some time then?”
“Yes, Your Grace. The group didn’t leave Vallis that long ago. It will take them awhile to get into the city.”
Fallon stared at his messenger now. “You have done well, Gartlan. You get to keep your head where it is. For now. Go clean up, eat, and rest. I may have another assignment for you and, I want you well fed and rested before I send you out again.”
“Thank you, My Lord. You are most gracious.” Gartlan bowed deep to his master and backed out of the room slowly.
As soon as he was out of vision range of Fallon, he hurried down the hall to his room, heart pounding hard in his chest.
 
***
 
Ruan de Gracy entered the great hall and shook out his damp hair and cloak, spattering the floor with droplets of icy water. He stomped his feet to get the feeling back and unclasped his cloak from the throat, tossing it over his shoulder. A page appeared in the chilly hall and bowed to him. “Lord Ruan, the king awaits your presence in his study.”
“I hope it’s warmer in there than in here. Christ, does he not believe in using the fireplace. It’s like a bloody crypt in here.”
“You will find the study warmer, My Lord.”
“Lead on then. I shan’t keep my king waiting.”
The page led the dripping Ruan down a side corridor and down the hall to the double doors that opened into Dain’s study. He noticed immediately the difference in temperature, a fire blazing in the large hearth, and planned to move closer to the heat as soon as the niceties were done.
Dain turned toward the entrance when he heard footsteps and smiled when he saw the drenched earl dripping in the doorway. Ruan’s dark black hair was plastered to his head, the longish sides dripping droplets of water down his temple into the neck of his doublet. His grey eyes gleamed in the wan firelight, and the mischievous smile he always had showed off straight white teeth. Ruan was only a year younger than Dain, but the king noticed how the years had not yet caught up to the tall lanky lord. It had been years since their last visit, and, although now adults, Dain made note that his more playful boyhood companion hadn’t changed a wink. He put down his parchment and approached his cousin, grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed.
“Ruan Hilyard de Gracy, it’s damn good to see you!”
He threw his arms around him, and the two embraced enthusiastically. When they parted, Ruan loo