Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Read online

  The king motioned to another young man standing slightly behind Aldon. “This is my third son Danal.”

  Danal appeared to be about twenty. He had shoulder length brown hair, and a slim build. Compared to his older brothers, Danal was downright skinny. He had a large flat nose and pasty white skin. He reminded Flare of the children he grew up with who spent more time reading a book than running in the sunlight.

  “It's nice to meet you,” Flare said, reaching to shake hands.

  “Yeah, it's nice to meet you too,” Danal said. There was no strength in his handshake. He made eye contact with Flare briefly, and then his eyes shifted to his father and then straight to the floor. If anything, Flare thought that Danal and Aldon were unconcerned about his recent adoption.

  “And this is my youngest son, Barrett.” Barrett was about sixteen or seventeen and he had sandy blond hair. He had a good complexion, and he would have been thought handsome by the young ladies. He was starting to add the muscle that comes with manhood, and he maintained eye contact with Flare the whole time that king Darion was introducing him.

  “Nice to meet you,” Flare said to Barrett as they shook hands.

  “I'm sure,” was the cocky answer that Barrett gave. His manner bothered Flare. He had been around spoiled royal children before, and it had been his experience that they could be trouble.

  “And these three ladies are my daughters. The eldest is Cierra,” the king said as he pointed to a young blond woman. She had dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Her skin was very dark, and she had the hourglass figure that men like.

  “Hello,” Flare said, feeling uncomfortable at the anger in the look that Cierra was giving him. She apparently did not welcome him to the family.

  “My middle daughter is Elizabeth,” The king said.

  “We've already met,” Flare said. “I was supposed to guard her, but I was reassigned at the last minute.” Those words triggered the memories to come flooding back, when he had been assigned to guard the princess Elizabeth but he had been pulled off of the detail at the last minute. Sergeant Latts had said there were some bad rumors about the king's daughters and that they had ruined the careers of some promising young military men. Sergeant Latts had also said that perhaps the king was just protecting Flare from the possibility of scandal. But another thought now occurred to him; perhaps the king was protecting Flare from allowing anything to happen between him and his half sister. He tried not to grimace at the thought.

  Elizabeth, like her older sister Cierra, seemed rather un-happy about having more competition for the throne. Her aloof manner told him more than any words could.

  The king smiled as he introduced his last daughter. “This is my youngest, Alicia.”

  Flare thought that Alicia was about thirteen or so. She had long white blond hair, and dark skin. Her eyes were a beautiful green that almost seemed to glow.

  “It's nice to meet you, Flare.” Alicia said, before he could speak.

  “The pleasure's mine,” Flare said smiling. Alicia seemed genuine, and he immediately found himself liking her. She seemed either to not notice the attitudes of her older siblings, or she didn't share their views. Either way, Flare was glad for another friendly face.

  The king stepped toward the table, “Come; let us have a seat.”

  The dinner was a stiff and unpleasant affair; wonderful food with a side of suspicion and resentment. Aldon, Danal, and Alicia seemed genuinely open to having Flare as an adopted brother, and they were friendly enough to talk to, except Danal. His lack of talking was not because of resentment, but he seemed genuinely shy. The rest did not like Flare and they didn't even try to hide it.

  Aldon seemed to carry the conversation, mainly due to his military interest in the happenings at Fort Mul-dune. When his questions ran out, so did most of the conversation.

  Prince Darion had barely touched his piece of roast ham, before he excused himself due to an early morning hunt. He was followed in quick order by Cierra, Elizabeth, and Barrett.

  'Good riddance.' Flare thought as they left. The mood was certainly more relaxed with them gone.

  “Ignore them.” Alicia said. “They always act like that, it's not you.” She smiled as she spoke and Flare found he was smiling back.

  “She's right. They always seem like they have a stick up their arse.” Aldon said and Danal giggled.

  “Aldon, do not talk like that in front of your sister!” The King said quickly, putting on a stern face.

  “Oh father. I've heard worse that that.” She said, then quickly lowering her eyes from the dour look on her father's face.

  The king leaned back in his chair. “Well, the mood certainly seemed to lift when they left. Didn't it?”

  Chapter 2

  Flare started his lessons with Dagan the next morning. The old man insisted on them starting before the sun was even up and Flare was half asleep when he stumbled to Dagan's room.

  The old man was already up and sitting in a chair when Flare arrived. He was wrapped up in a heavy blanket, apparently trying to resist the coolness of the early morning. He sat quietly sipping something from a steaming cup.

  “Good morning, Flare.” Dagan said with a smile, “Are you ready for some lessons on etiquette and history?”

  “Sure, but I hope you don't mind repeating yourself, because this early in the morning, it may take several times for me to remember.”

  Dagan's smile grew wider, “I'll try to not bore you too much. Now let's start with the family history of the Earl of Whitehorn....”

  Philip sat fidgeting in the parlor of his father's mansion, which was just a short distance from the king's palace. He sat on a small white sofa that had redwood trim, across from two chairs that matched the sofa. Across the room, a wood and glass corner cabinet held several antiques, and there was an exquisitely drawn picture of Philip's mother on the far wall. A small table was in front of the sofa, and two swords were hung crossed on the wall. He had always hated his family's house in the city. Their country estates were so much more enjoyable. His mother, the lady Alela, sat beside him on the sofa. His father was expected at any time.

  “We are so proud of you, Philip.” Alela said, smiling at him. She was in her early fifties and was aging gracefully. Her hair hung to her shoulders, and was still dark brown. Her skin was smooth and tan, and had been the object of jealousy from some of the other ladies around the court. She was wearing a long elegant red dress and an enormous diamond ring on her left hand. “You are the first member of the Connell family to ever be awarded the golden dagger.” His mother had always been very supportive of him, almost to the point of coddling. In her eyes he could do no wrong.

  Philip, for his part, loved his mother very much and appreciated her unwavering support. His father, on the other hand, insisted on nothing but the very best from him, and his father had always made him nervous. They both had been at the awards ceremony two nights ago and had praised him afterwards, but his father had always been more supportive in public than in private. His mother was telling a story about two ladies in the court who had turned out to be in a delicate situation, but Philip only half listened. His thoughts were elsewhere.

  At that moment, Gavin, Philip's father entered the room. He was advanced in years, being almost seventy years old. His thin hair was pure white and he moved slower now than when Philip had been growing up. He had a few more age spots on his face than Philip remembered, but he looked to be in good shape. A stern but sincere smile lit up his face at the sight of his son. “Philip, it's good to have you home.”

  Philip stood, as his father entered the room. “Thank you father. It's good to be home. I would have come home yesterday, but I was asked to attend several public ceremonies because of the award.” He fought to keep his hands from fidgeting as he spoke; how he hated the nervousness he always felt around his father.

  Gavin waved his hand at Philip. “The people need to see their newest heroes, it's very important for the morale of the people.” He paused a moment,
before continuing, “I'm very proud of you. It's quite an honor to be awarded the golden dagger.” Philip smiled at the words of his father, his tension easing. “Philip, the only way it could have been better, is if you had led the guardians instead of that elven bastard.” The last words wiped the smile off of Philip's face.

  Alela sprang off of the sofa with a look of irritation on her face. “Gavin! Our son came home a hero, don't slight his accomplishments.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes at his wife. “I didn't mean anything by it. I just think that Philip should have been the leader, that's all.” Then turning back to Philip, “We are proud of you, son.” He emphasized the word are, all the while intently holding his son's gaze. “I expect great things from your future, but unfortunately something has come up that requires my attention. But, I will see you tonight at dinner and you can tell us all about the battles.” He turned and started out of the parlor, “You know how it is, affairs of state and all.” Gavin disappeared around the corner, and they could hear his footsteps heading down the corridor.

  Alela put her hand on Philip's shoulder, “I'm sorry Philip. He doesn't mean anything by it; he just doesn't know how to show that he cares.”

  Philip put his hand on top of his mother's hand, “It's all right. I understand.” Silently, just to himself, he wondered if he really did understand.

  Days turned into weeks, as Flare learned not only rules of etiquette, but also the history of Telur; and not just the history of the kingdom, but also the history of the important families of the realm. How the families were related and what those relations meant to the politics of Telur. He quickly found himself glad he was not the first in line for the throne, since the future king would be required to use all of this information. He really didn't see why he needed to know all of these things though. Certain portions of the lessons fascinated him, but for the most part, he was just plain bored. More and more he would interject questions hoping to steer the topic to something a little more interesting. Dagan took notice, and tried to supply the more interesting tidbits of knowledge.

  Flare quickly decided the king had been right when he said there was not a better person to learn from than Dagan. The old man spoke his mind, even if it was to say the king was acting foolishly. Flare was amazed that Dagan refused to hold his tongue, and worried not one bit about the repercussions.

  “Dagan, why did the king say you know more about the court that he does?” Flare asked one morning in the middle of a lesson he was completely uninterested in. “Is it because you have been in the court for so long?”

  Dagan scowled, “Are you trying to say I'm old?”

  Fighting hard, Flare resisted the urge to smile. “Of course not, but you are older than the king.” He answered diplomatically. Dagan had developed a tendency to get ornery, but most of the time Flare thought he was putting on rather than actually being contrary.

  Dagan watched for several moments, apparently trying to see if Flare would smile or in some way make fun of him. When he did not, the old man responded, “Young man, I have been a councilor to three generations of Telurian kings. I was considered old when king Darion was born.” He paused as if waiting for Flare to say something, when he didn't, Dagan continued. “King Darion is a good man, although I feel he listens to the wrong advisors sometimes. Like that fool, Angaria. You know there was a time when I was one of the first consulted by the king's father. My advice was sought above all else, but now King Darion thinks I am too old. He thinks I don't know what is going on, and he listens to men who have their own personal ambitions.”

  “Do other people in the royal court seek your advice?” Flare asked.

  “Most people are scared of me,” Dagan answered flatly.

  Flare smiled, and started to make a joke of the comment, but the old man wasn't laughing. The smile slowly slid from Flare's face, “Why are they afraid of you Dagan?”

  Dagan smiled, and it was such a smile that froze Flare's blood. “Only a fool isn't afraid of a sorcerer,” He said in a calm quiet voice that Flare almost didn't hear.

  “Sorcerer? I thought that you were just an advisor,” Flare said, somewhat surprised.

  “Paw! When the king started thinking me too old is when he started calling me an advisor. Before that, I was always introduced as the king's sorcerer.” Dagan was lost in thought, and Flare let him wander, patiently waiting for him to return to the here and now. “I was always in the king's presence, but now I am just an afterthought. It almost seems that the king is waiting for me to die, and until then he humors me.”

  Interest and pity fought within Flare, and the interest won. “Dagan, elves don't practice sorcery. In fact, I don't even know exactly what it is.” He said, hoping to change today's lesson to something a little more interesting.

  Dagan waved an old bony hand at Flare, “The elves always were restrictive in what they thought was appropriate, and you're wrong about elves not practicing sorcery. I know some elven sorcerers myself, and I have heard of others that practice in elven society although not publicly.”

  Flare was surprised, and thought about questioning the old man. But then again, how many elven warriors used magic?

  Dagan moved a piece of paper with a family tree on it off of his lap. They had been reviewing the paper, but Flare was glad to see it go. “Don't think I don't know what you're doing, boy. It just so happens that I too am getting bored with this genealogy. Maybe a little diversion would be good for both of us.”

  Flare's mood leaped at the words, he could only take so much of being bored half to death.

  “Magic is the practice of using rituals and items to reach a desired goal. Sometimes the only thing needed is a word or sentence of power. Other times, elaborate rituals involving magic items and multiple people are required. What makes a magic user good, is adroitness and a good memory, but that's not true for a sorcerer. Sorcery is an inborn talent. Either you have it or you don't. Learning how to use the abilities are involved, but if you do not have the talent, then it doesn't matter how much you try and practice.” He paused to re-adjust himself in the chair. “You see Flare, every person is born with a spirit, and that spirit, that life energy is what determines a person's ability to be a sorcerer. The stronger that life energy, then the stronger a sorcerer that person can be. Do you know what sorcerer's can do?”

  Flare shook his head no. He found himself more awake and interested today than he had been in days. He was enjoying this brief respite from the histories of families that he had never heard of, or cared to ever hear of again.

  Dagan smiled, enjoying the attention Flare was paying to his words. “Sorcerer's use their spirit to manipulate things in the physical world. For instance, a sorcerer can move things by thinking about it.” Flare almost jumped, as a book that had been sitting on the table suddenly started floating on its own toward them. The book came to rest on the floor beside his chair. Dagan smiled before continuing, “Sorcerer's can communicate over long distances, they can influence people's decisions, and powerful sorcerers have been able to control another person's mind. Sorcerer’s can also create illusions, and cast charms on people. A select few have been known to receive visions and give prophecies. Every person has this energy within them, but most don't know about it, and if they did know about it, most still wouldn't be able to use it. And sometimes people use it without even knowing about it. If you walk through the market place, you will see merchants selling their wares. However, if you look close enough, you will see merchants who outperform their rivals, even though their rivals merchandise is of the same quality. What's the difference between the two? If you ask most people, they will say that one merchant has charisma, and the other does not. On a rare occasion however, the one merchant may be using his life energy to influence people to choose his wares. And they don't even know that they are doing it.”

  “So a person learns how to be a sorcerer quickly?” Flare asked.

  “A person can learn to be a sorcerer quickly, but even I learn new things about
sorcery all the time. It takes a long time to become a master sorcerer.” Dagan paused for several moments before continuing, “Flare, do you know what wizardry is?”

  “No.” Flare answered quickly. The only thing he knew about wizardry is that it was banned.

  “I'm not surprised. The elves like wizardry even less than they like sorcery. Wizardry is also called summoning.”

  At the mention of summoning, the hairs stood up on the back of Flare's neck. Summoning was a word he knew. Summoners used flame in a ritual which allowed them to summon beings from another plane of existence. Demons had been summoned in the demon-lord war to fight terrible battles for their human masters. “Dagan, that's a dark art, and I thought that wizardry was not allowed anymore.”

  Dagan smiled, “Why is it a dark art? How do you know, Flare?”

  Flare frowned, “I do not know firsthand, but I have always been told that wizardry is horrible and those that practice it should be punished. During the demon-lord wars thousands died because of the demons.”

  “Not because of the demons but because of the humans that controlled the demons.” Dagan corrected, and Flare's eyes narrowed as he considered the difference. “The church agrees with you. In fact, they are starting to look down on sorcerers, as well. It's only a matter of time until they outlaw sorcery, the church banned wizardry shortly after the death of Osturlius and the punishment is death by torture.”

  Flare almost fell out of the chair he had been sitting in. “They banned it after Osturlius died? Does that mean that Osturlius' sin was something to do with Wizardry?”

  Dagan cocked his head as he watched Flare, “Who says he sinned, and more importantly why is wizardry bad? You can't answer that question, can you?” Dagan paused, looking smug. “The answer, Flare, is that wizardry is wrong because people have told you its wrong, and they told you its wrong because people are afraid of it.”