Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Read online

  After the battle, the alliance destroyed the kingdom of Golteranth and its allies, and salted the very ground where the capital had been so that nothing would ever grow there again.

  The alliance had won, but only Osturlius was left alive of the Dragon Order. Dalar and Ontarin were heavily weakened, and Wyndon saw his opportunity. After the Telurian troops returned home, he launched a full scale invasion of Dalar. Dalar had been hurt badly by the war, and the Telurian troops met little resistance. The king of Dalar pleaded with Osturlius to help, and help he did. Osturlius called upon the kingdom of Telur to withdraw from Dalar or face the rest of the alliance. In disgust, Wyndon recalled his forces to Telur.

  For almost five years, relative peace existed between the kingdoms. With the exception of Telur, the kingdoms were rebuilding and had no time for much else. Telur took the lead in creating the Guardians, a group of soldiers dedicated to preventing another war like the demon-lord war. The creation of the guardians had been the idea of Osturlius and he was pleased at how quickly the unit came together.

  Then mysteriously Osturlius vanished without a trace. The rumor quickly spread that he had done some horrible evil, but no one knew exactly what it was he had done. Around this same time, the church of Adel organized in the city of Telur. The church blamed the destruction of the wars on the Dragon Order and promised to prevent the order from ever again causing such wide spread destruction. The church's numbers quickly swelled and spread to other lands. The elves and the dwarves abandoned the alliance and returned to their own lands.

  Shortly after the disappearance of Osturlius, a minor noble of Telur was killed along the Dalarian border by brigands. It was just the excuse that Wyndon needed to invade Dalar. The armies of Telur swept through the relatively unprotected northern half of Dalar. The king of Dalar was left without any allies, and was forced to sue for peace. Telur gained a huge section of Dalar and made it part of the kingdom of Telur.

  Several years went by, before Wyndon again made war. This time he invaded the kingdom of Ontarin, with similar results to the first war with Dalar. He invaded on the excuse that the plague that was currently damaging Telur had come from Ontarin. During the war, the Crown Prince Almon died of the plague. Shortly after the death of Prince Almon, some fifteen years after the disappearance of Osturlius, King Wyndon himself disappeared without a trace. He disappeared from his private study with two guards stationed right outside the door. Prince Hallon searched the castle from end to end, but could find no trace of him.

  Prince Hallon was named king, and he continued the war with Ontarin, proving to be even more vicious than his father. He dealt brutally with Ontarin, almost completely obliterating the kingdom. At the end of the war, King Hallon executed the royal family of Ontarin and hung their bodies on the city gates. He annexed almost half of the former boundaries of Ontarin and placed his half-brother on the throne of what was left.

  Servants and guards began to complain about noises coming from King Wyndon's private study, but nothing was ever found that could have caused the noises. Finally, King Hallon walled up the private study and several other surrounding rooms and built on top of them....

  Flare snapped the book closed in disgust. The book had indeed discussed King Wyndon in detail, but the book had not even mentioned Captain Kelcer. He picked up the next book and proceeded to skim through the information looking for clues about the Kelcer prophecy. One of the books mentioned the king's guard being wiped out, but even that book didn't mention the one surviving member of the king's guard.

  He set the last book aside and closed his eyes to think, almost instantly, he was asleep.

  Flare found himself in the hallway that led to Dagan's chambers, standing in front of the door that led to the ancient deserted hallway. The door opened in front of him, and to his surprise, he realized that he had opened the door. He sighed and started down the hallway.

  The hallway was as dark as the first time he traveled it. He didn't wait until it was too dark to see to use magic, instead he cast a simple spell and the darkness vanished as light sprang up all around him. With a start, he noticed one thing that had changed since his first visit, the dust on the floor had been disturbed. A trail of footprints led off into the distance in the direction he was walking. Were the footprints his?

  He followed the hallway, past the antique suit of armor and turned right into the first of the two rooms. With the exception of the dust on the floor, nothing had been disturbed in this room either. He paused, not sure he wanted to go into the next room. He seemed to be drawn, almost against his will. 'It's just a dream. It can't hurt me.' He thought, but that thought wasn't very comforting. 'Maybe if I don't enter the room, then nothing will happen.' Hope sprang up within him at the thought. He turned to leave the room via the hallway, and stopped dead in his tracks. A skeletal figure stood in the doorway. His blood ran cold and goose pimples ran along his skin. It was a skeleton, but rotten, almost petrified flesh hung on the body. Clothes that had once been exquisite hung in tatters and clumps of ancient hair still clung to the skull. A thin circlet of gold rested on the skull.

  They stood there, staring at each other, while Flare felt a scream building up within him. The figure was simply horrible, and Flare took a wobbly step backwards. His heart was beating wildly, and his breathing was ragged, like he had just run a mile.

  All of a sudden, the skeleton charged him. Flare was taken completely by surprise; all he managed to do was to raise his arms in front of his face before the skeleton hit him and knocked him backwards onto the floor. Landing hard on his back, he felt his breath get knocked out of him. His eyes closed momentarily from the impact.

  He opened his eyes and looked into the eye sockets of the skeleton. Some of the flesh had petrified, like the skeleton had been dead for centuries, but the rest of the flesh seemed to be wet and rotting. The smell of rotten meat hung in the air. For the first time he noticed the maggots crawling through the flesh, he almost gagged but he still had not caught his breath.

  The skeleton moved his jaw in the parody of a human talking, and said, “Flare. Why do you make me wait for you? I have been waiting for so long.” The skeleton grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off the ground and then roughly slammed back. “I am tired of waiting. Come to me.”

  Flare hit the ground hard and saw stars floating before him. He opened his eyes and saw the skeleton lowering his rotten hand towards his face. He opened his mouth and screamed.

  Flare fell out of his bed, scared half to death. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. 'It's not real.' He kept telling himself, over and over. Inside he wondered if it was just a dream, or if there was more to it.

  Philip waited anxiously in the anteroom. His father, had summoned him earlier in the day and he had no idea why. The Duke of Atwell could be a very hard man to please, and Philip had always been intimidated.

  The anteroom was a small waiting area, with a couple of chairs and a small table. A young man sat behind a desk to the left of the door, he was the Duke's secretary. A guard stood to the right of the door and always seemed to be watching Philip, even though his eyes were always straight ahead. Philip sat in the chair that was placed in the corner, so that he could watch the door. That was a trait he had picked up in the Guardian training.

  The door opened, and Philip's father stood in the doorway. Gavin Connell always had the appearance of royalty. His hair was always brushed back, and somehow managed to stay in place. His clothes were always clean and fit him immaculately. Today he wore tan pants and a white shirt with long fluffy sleeves. Even his boots looked freshly polished.

  Philip quickly stood to his feet.

  “Philip. Being punctual is an excellent sign of a good soldier. I am pleased you were here waiting on me.” Philip nodded his head and smiled in response, but his father didn't even notice. Gavin turned his body and motioned Philip into the next room. “Come in, so that we can talk.”

  Philip stepped past his father into the private study. H
is father's private study was plush, as befitted his station in life. It was a large room with a dark reddish-brown thick carpet. The walls were a golden stained oak, and hunting trophies hung at various points along the wall. Across the room from the door was a fireplace, and directly in front of the fireplace was Gavin's desk. The desk was set up so that the duke faced the door and had his back to the fireplace. Three small sofas were placed in front of the desk so that guests could face the duke as they talked. Dual windows were on the left side of the room, but the drapes were pulled over the windows, so the only light came from several candles placed around the room. Several doors were on the far wall, several feet from the sides of the fireplace.

  Philip walked to the sofas with the intention of waiting on his father to be seated first; he heard the door close behind him. Reaching the sofa, he turned to his father.

  Gavin joined Philip near the sofas. “Let's have a seat, shall we?” As he spoke, Gavin sat down on the middle sofa and looked expectantly at Philip. Philip sat down on the sofa on the left, and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

  Gavin leaned back and crossed his legs in a relaxed manner, quite the opposite of Philip. “Philip, we called you here today because there is something that you can do for us.” Gavin said.

  Philip nodded, “Of course father. What is it that I can do?”

  Gavin studied his son for a moment. “Are you a loyal follower of the church?”

  Philip was shocked by the question. “Of course I am! What does that have to with anything?” He finally managed to get out.

  Gavin uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, “The church has condemned the Dragon Order and has spent the last two thousand years making sure that that order is never restored.” Philip listened to his father's words wondering what that meant to him. “The Kelcer prophecy details the person who will try to restore the order, and the church is fighting to keep that from happening.”

  Philip interrupted his father, “I know this, and I fully support the church's position.” Then as another thought occurred to him he quickly added, “Surely you don't think that I am the one from the prophecy.”

  “Of course not! Don't be foolish boy, and don't interrupt me,” Gavin said.

  Gavin waited a moment until Philip appeared properly chastened, before he continued, “There is some concern that Flaranthlas may be the one prophesied about. We would like for you to keep an eye on him. If you see something that seems suspect, just let me know.” Gavin said, smiling.

  Philip didn't like the sound of this at all. “You want me to spy on a friend?” He asked, angered and surprised at the same time.

  “Philip! You will...” Gavin stared to say, but then he thought better of it and stopped, calming himself. After a moment, he was calmer and said, “Philip, we don't expect you to spy on a friend, but if you noticed a friend doing things that they should not; then we would expect you to report him. All that we ask is to keep your eyes open, and if you see any warrior using magic or anything along those lines, let us know.” He said in the most fatherly, supportive tone that he could. “You can do that, can't you?”

  Putting it that way, it didn't sound so bad. They were just asking him to report anything wrong that Flare did. It still didn't feel quite right, but he heard himself say, “Yes. I think I can.”

  Gavin smiled. “Excellent. You're doing the right thing.” He leaned forward on the sofa and looked at Philip. “Thanks for coming today. Unless there was something else you wanted to talk to me about, you can go.”

  Still frowning, Philip got up and left the room.

  The smile disappeared from Gavin's face as the door closed behind his son and was quickly replaced by a frown. “I raised that boy better than that. He shouldn't have questioned me.”

  One of the doors on the back wall opened and Duke Angaria stepped out of the small closet. He wore a smile on his face as he emerged from the darkness. “It doesn't matter. He seemed okay with the way you phrased things. He will do as he was told and report to us if Flaranthlas does try to fulfill the prophecy.”

  Gavin looked up at the other Duke, “And if the elf tries?”

  Still smiling, Angaria said, “Then the church will take care of him.”

  Chapter 5

  Outside the Connell mansion, Philip walked toward the castle with a heavy heart. Struggling with the idea of spying on a friend, the thought kept occurring to him that perhaps his father was right. Perhaps he was just watching to see if anyone, Flare included, broke the rules of the church.

  He continued toward the castle, wrestling with the decision the whole way.

  Flare stood in the intersection that had haunted his dreams for the past several nights. It was still early in the morning, but he had been scared out of his bed by his last dream and he didn't even want to try to go back to sleep. Shortly after daybreak, he got dressed and headed toward the kitchen to get breakfast. He had sat in the cafeteria well after he was through eating, almost dozing off several times. Around mid-morning, he left the cafeteria and headed toward the intersection.

  He stood there, staring at the solid wall that had been a door in his dreams, wondering if it really was a secret entrance, or if he had just been dreaming. He had tried everything that he could think of to find a secret entrance, but he could not find any secret switches or levers. He had even tapped on the wall, but it sounded solid. Then he tried pushing on different sections of the wall, but it wouldn't even budge an inch. After half an hour of pushing, pulling, and banging, he was on the verge of giving up when he heard footsteps coming from the hallway that led away from Dagan's quarters. He quickly stopped trying to move the wall, so that whoever it was, wouldn't think he was crazy. Instead, he leaned against the wall and waited to see who was approaching.

  Cassandra, the king's magician, rounded the corner and walked towards him. After a moment she looked up and saw Flare, she almost stumbled in surprise, but she recovered and stopped in front of him. “Hello, Prince Flaranthlas.”

  Flare was as surprised to see Cassandra as she appeared to be to see him. He had seen her at several royal functions, but they had only had a moment to speak formally. “Hello Cassandra. How have you been?” He asked, smiling weakly.

  Cassandra returned Flare's smile, but her smile made him weak in the knees, her smile reminding him of the night they spent together right before he headed west to Fort Mul-dune. “Actually, I was headed to Dagan's quarters to ask him to give you a message.” Cassandra replied.

  Her words caught him off guard. “A message for me. What about?” He asked, hoping that maybe she wanted to rekindle their romance.

  Cassandra dropped her eyes to the floor, and said in a shy way, “I was hoping that you would help me translate some high elven passages in a book I just found.” Her words hit him like a kick to the stomach, but then she raised her eyes back up and winked at Flare, making his pulse quicken. “Could you come over tonight after dinner?”

  'What does that mean?' Flare thought. 'Does she want sex, or does she actually want me to help her translate a book?' He was totally confused now. “Uh, sure. Tonight's fine.”

  “Great! I'll see you then.” Cassandra said, and walked off down the passage.

  Flustered, Flare walked down the hall towards Dagan's quarters, having completely forgotten about the wall that he had been searching. 'Women! I just don't understand them.'

  Flare spent the late morning and early afternoon working with Dagan, that is, until the old man got frustrated and kicked him out. Flare's mind just wasn't in to practicing sorcery, and Dagan wasn't the type to put up with any 'foolishness'. A rebuked and somewhat dejected Flare headed to the practice field where the other guardians spent most of their free time drilling and practicing.

  As Flare walked up, the guardians were practicing sword play. Currently, Trestus was teamed up with Atock, Philip was teamed up with Derek, Enton was squared off against Aaron, and Heather and Kara were off to the side practicing but less strenuously than the male fighters.
Flare stood on the sidelines for several moments watching the grace of the warriors as they attacked their opponent and then fell back into a defensive posture. Each attack was defended by the other guardian, except when Aaron slipped on his attack and Enton made him pay for it by slapping Aaron across the face with his practice sword. Flare joined the group as Aaron pushed himself off the ground.

  “Are you all right, Aaron?” Flare asked, walking nearer.

  Aaron was rubbing his jaw where Enton's sword had hit him; the spot was already red and was getting darker. “I've been better. The lummox nailed me pretty good.” He smiled as he spoke, his words holding no animosity towards Enton.

  Enton smiled in return, “It's better that you slipped in practice, than in a real fight. That bruise will go away, but if this had been a real fight then you would be dead now.”

  “You don't have to rub it in.” Aaron said towards Enton. “You got me this time, but it will be my turn next time.” As he spoke he jabbed the practice sword at Enton, which Enton easily knocked away.

  “Well, who do I get to practice against?” Flare asked of no one in particular. “I got an idea. Aaron, why don't you rest for a moment and let me go up against Enton?”

  “Sure,” was Aaron's response. He didn't seem to mind at all, and he walked slowly over to the side of the field.

  Flare picked up Aaron's practice sword and then turned to face Enton. Unlike his morning training with Dagan, he quickly found himself completely engaged in the sword fighting. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the sorcery required full concentration, where as the sword play seemed almost instinctive and required little or no concentration on his part.

  For an hour or so, they continued to practice. From time to time, partners would change and another fighter would be given an opportunity to rest. Flare enjoyed the camaraderie of the fighters and the brainless physical activity, as he won some fights and lost others. Only Philip seemed to be in a bad mood, as he passed up his turn to fight Flare, although Flare didn't think twice about it.