Whill of Agora Trilogy: Book 01 - Whill of Agora (8 page)

Whill urged his horse into a quick trot and was happy to see Tarren waiting by the Ocean Mist door. He dismounted and handed the reins to the boy.

“Hello, Master Whill!”

“Good day, Tarren.” He surveyed the surrounding street. Still he found nothing to justify his paranoia.

“I heard that you defeated Knight Rhunis at the tournament. I wish I could have seen it,” Tarren said with great jubilation as he acted out a mock sword-fight. “Do you think you could teach me some moves?”

Whill looked at him with amusement. “Do you hope to be a knight yourself one day?”

Tarren nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. I can’t wait until I’m of age for the tryouts.”

“Well, if your father says it’s alright, then I would be happy to.”

Whill didn’t think that the boy could exhibit more joy than he already had, but at Whill’s response he managed to. “That will be great! Do I get my own sword?”

“Slow down, my young friend. Let’s start with your father’s permission and then we’ll work out the details.” He gave Tarren a gold coin. “Take good care of that horse for me. We’ve been through a lot together. And see to it that this bag of goods finds its way to my room.”

Tarren looked at the coin with wide eyes and thanked him. Once inside, Whill spotted Abram sitting at the usual table, near the bar facing the door. He had a thing for facing the door. Whill took the opposite seat.

“How did the day treat you, Whill?”

Whill eagerly told him about the ship and what they had accomplished. Soon the serving girl from the morning came to the table.

“Ready to order?” She aimed a particular smile at Whill.

“Beef stew for me, with fresh bread, and another bottle of mead, please,” said Abram.

“I’ll have the same, Miss—”

The girl stared at Whill as if transfixed. “Oh, sorry, my name is Brillia.”

“Brillia. That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s Whill.”

“I know.” She blushed. “I mean, everyone has heard of your fight with Rhunis. My father told me all about it. He’s been bragging that the best fighter in Eldalon is staying at Ocean Mist. Well, I’ll be back shortly with your food.” Abram gave Whill a withering look. Whill waited until she had disappeared through the kitchen door before he spoke. “Do you think it’s bad that so many know of our whereabouts? Because of the gold, I mean?”

“Yes, I do.” Abram seemed tense. Whill could tell something was on his mind.

“Freston brought it to my attention that we should be careful of thieves.”

Abram looked annoyed. “Of course we should be careful. I’m surprised no one has yet tried to rob us. You go about throwing your gold around like it’s candy and you wonder why we might get a little attention from the no-good scoundrels that walk these very streets. I haven’t raised you to be naive.”

Whill looked at Abram with burning eyes. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like—”

“Yes, you are! And what of you Abram, if anything I was taking your lead in my generosity. Of course it’s crossed my mind that we are in danger of thieves, but if they have half a brain they know the gold is locked up. And if they do try to take it from us I wish them luck, for they will bleed before they get their greedy hands on a single coin. It is I who beat Rhunis in that tournament—I, a man, not a child—and it was I who saved your hide from those wolves. But that means nothing to you. You eagerly sign me up to fight one of the best knights in Eldalon, but you think me too weak to handle my own past.”

Whill had not been this angry in a long time, and never at Abram. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn’t stop. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing years of animosity towards Abram about the secrets he would not reveal.

“What if you had been killed by those wolves, or that damned black bear last year?” he went on. “Or any of the many battles you fought when I was just a child? Where would I be then? If you were dead, there would be no one to tell me what only you know.” He breathed heavily but felt relieved to have his feelings out in the open.

Abram was solemn. “I’m sorry. You are a man to me by every measure, and I am thankful to you for saving my life. Shortly you will know all you wish, as I have told you. You’re right, my death would have robbed you of all of your secrets. But if I had not been able to finish your training, you would not be prepared to know them. I have not spent these long years teaching you in order to prepare you for a life of normality or peace. You could be a Knight of Eldalon, or of any kingdom for that matter, with your knowledge and skill. But that is not your path. Your destiny lies elsewhere.”

Whill felt terrible for what he had said. Abram had saved his life countless times. He had dedicated nineteen years to Whill’s well-being and had treated him as a son. Whill began to apologize but could not find his voice. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked away, ashamed.

“I know, Whill. I’m sorry also for having to put you through this. But soon we will sail, and soon you will know.”

Brillia returned with the steaming food. It smelled delicious, but Whill had lost his appetite. He ate little of the stew or bread and left the table saying that he was tired from the day’s work. As he lay on his soft bed and watched the moon flirt with the passing clouds, he realized that he indeed was very tired. Sleep soon found him, as did dreams of his long-dead parents. They stood upon a tall hill, waving happily. But he could not reach them; no matter how he tried, he could not find the top of the hill. The faster he climbed, the taller it got, until a mountain stood before him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Farewell to the City of Light

T
he sun shone in upon Whill’s face. The sky was clear blue and the morning air sweet. A small bird sat at the windowsill peering curiously at Whill, quickly jerking its head to get different angles of him. He sat up as the bird flew away and noticed Abram sitting at the small table looking at what appeared to be a map.

“Good morning,” he said as Whill got up and hurriedly got dressed.

“Damn! I’m supposed to meet the brothers at first light at the docks.”

“Relax, I sent word with that boy Tarren that you would be late. I want to show you something.” He gestured to the opposite seat and rotated the map for Whill to see.

“I told you I had small business yesterday. Well, I met with King Mathus and Lord Rogus. The king is very eager to meet with us when we are finished in the mountains.”

“Why?”

Abram took a deep breath as if troubled. “It seems that King Addakon of Uthen-Arden has declared war against Isladon. As we speak, war wages upon its borders. No word has come from King Fenious of Isladon. The Arden navy has blocked off the entire coast of Isladon, and Mathus fears that Drindale will soon fall.”

Whill sat back in his chair in disbelief. “So Mathus wants to know if we intend to fight?”

“That he does.”

“And you told him yes, I assume.”

“No, I told him our answer will come after we visit Dy’Kore.”

Whill thought for a moment about the severity of a war within Agora. There had not been strife among the kingdoms for more than five hundred years.

“What of the Draggard within the Ebony Mountains?” Whill asked.

“It is as I have warned the kings for years: King Addakon has made them his allies. It was obvious when Addakon did nothing to help Isladon in vanquishing that retched scourge from the mountains. But the kings would not listen. They did not want to believe the ugly truth. Now it is apparent.”

Whill was stupefied. “But how can Addakon persuade his soldiers to fight their own kind within Isladon alongside those demonic beasts?”

“Addakon is of strong mind and he can make his will that of others. His army is nothing but a group of mindless pawns.”

“And what of the people of Uthen-Arden? They must object to this outrage.”

“The people know not of his alliance with the Draggard. He has told them that Fenious is the one who has befriended the fell beasts, and he has turned them against the elves as well. He tells his people that the elves are indeed the masters of the Draggard, and that they are plotting to take all of Agora for their own. I fear that Elladrindellia will be Addakon’s next target.”

Whill sat shocked. “This is ridiculous! King Addakon has treated his people terribly since he has been in power. Never in the history of Arden has there been a more brutal king. How can they believe his lies and follow so blindly?”

“Do not forget, Whill, Addakon will have been carefully planning all this for many years. And though he has treated his people badly, they will follow his lead if presented with a common enemy. Especially one so terrible as the Draggard.”

Whill’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend what he had heard. He stood up and slammed his fist down on the table. “We must do something! There is no time to wait for the ship to be finished. Let us go now to the mountains and be done with it! We must tell Mathus that we will fight.”

Abram smiled. “I’d hoped you would say that.”

With that, Whill and Abram grabbed their things and hurriedly packed their bags. They left Ocean Mist and made their way to the bank together on Whill’s horse. Once inside the bank they converted all but one bag of gold to diamonds. Upon finishing the transaction, they quickly rode to the docks and found Freston.

“We must leave Fendale at once, my friend,” Abram told him.

“What’s wrong? Is there trouble?”

“Yes, of the worst kind.” He quickly explained what he knew of the Isladon siege.

Freston did not seem shocked. “I knew Addakon was no good. Ever since his brother died, things haven’t been right in Arden.”

“We wish to leave today, as soon as possible,” Abram said. “Do you know of anyone who will sell us a vessel?”

“Of course. I will.” He pointed to a small ship docked forty feet away. “I have three of them, as you know, but there is no need to buy it. If you must go, go now and take
Old Charlotte
. She’s not much to look at but she’s sturdy, and fast.”

Whill stepped forward. “Will you take care of my horse until we return?”

“Like she were my own. And your ship as well, lad. It’s a shame you won’t see her come to life.”

Whill nodded. “I was looking forward to sailing her soon, but that will have to wait.”

Freston led them to a large wooden building built into the back of the cave. It was a store for sailors to get last-minute supplies. Whill ordered dried meats, cheese, bread, and a barrel of water. Next to the barrels of wine, mead, and water there was a large stack of barrels labeled “Dragon’s Brew” in bold red letters. He laughed to himself and said, “I’ll take a small barrel of old Barlemew’s brew also.”

He overpaid by a few gold coins and carried the meat while a young boy wheeled the rest of the things to the boat. Together Whill and Abram loaded the vessel and said their farewells to Freston and his sons.

Because there was no wind within the cave, the ship had to be pulled by a rowed tugboat. Twenty men pulled vigorously on their oars as they slowly pulled
Old Charlotte
out of the harbor. Once they were out of the cave Whill could feel the strong wind on his face. Abram waved to the rowers and untied the line that connected them to the tugboat.

“Are you ready to sail, my boy?”

“That I am, sir. That I am.”

Together they opened the sail and quickly caught wind. Whill took in the familiar smell of the ocean water. With the wind in his hair and the wheel in hand he steered them westward. Their path would bring them completely around the western coast of Eldalon, roughly a thousand miles to the port town of Sherna.

Whill looked at the city above the cliff. Even in the sunlight he could make out the white beam of the lighthouse. He regretted having to leave Fendale. He loved its people and the city itself. But at least now he would find out his past, locked away somewhere in the dark recesses of the Ky’Dren Mountains.

Abram looked at the sky. “We should make Sherna in about a week if this wind keeps up. From there it will be another forty or so miles to the mountains.”

Whill nodded. “I assume we’ll walk from there. Horses won’t be much use in the mountains.”

“No, they won’t, and it should be less than a day’s walk. But once we arrive we must travel through the mountains for another twenty-five miles. And as you know, the mountains can be treacherous.”

They sailed steady the entire day until the sun began to set behind the vast blue ocean. It appeared to be bigger than usual, soft orange behind the clouds. The sun’s rays shot up from behind the clouds in brilliant hues.

“Ah, sunset upon the ocean,” Abram said. “Never will man mimic such beauty.”

With the stars came a chill that rode on the wind as the night air pushed the ship steadily along. Whill shivered with the drop in temperature. Abram went below and retrieved his long, hooded brown robe.

“I was going to give you this in Fendale on your birthday next week, but I figure you’ll be needing it now. Besides, I can’t hide it forever.” He held up a large black fur coat. “I had this made for you in Fendale. I saved some of the wolf hides and had a tailor make this.”

Whill inspected the fine coat. It was black as a moonless night and so long it would fall to his knees. Around the waist was a long strip of leather for a belt, and there were large silver buttons down the front.

“Thank you, Abram! It is a fine gift.” He put the coat on and buttoned it up. It was very warm and a welcome barrier against the wind.

As the night passed Whill kept true to their course; with the silhouette of the coast to his far left it was hard to veer off. Abram put a hand on his shoulder. “You can handle her for a while, eh? I’m going to catch some sleep.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

They had been sailing for nearly sixteen hours and Whill could still see the faint light of the Fendale lighthouse. He was amazed at how far it shone. As he stood at the wheel, hypnotized by the steady crashing of small waves and the endless bobbing of the boat, he thought of the journey ahead. They had ventured the Ky’Dren Mountains before, but that had been years ago, when Whill was just a boy. Still, he knew much of the history of the mountains, and indeed of every land. He and Abram had lived for a time in just about every town, and he had learned many of the traditions and ways of the various peoples. They had stayed in Brindon, Orenden, Bearadon, and even Belldon of the Shierdon kingdom.