Whill of Agora: Book 1 - Michael Ploof (e book reader for pc .TXT) 📗

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

“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, 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—and 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 would 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 as 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 as much.”

With that, Whill and Abram grabbed their things and hurriedly packed their bags. They left Ocean Mist and made their way to the bank on Whill’s horse. Once inside, 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 water he noticed barrels of wine, mead, and... “Dragon’s Brew”. He read the bold red letters, laughing to himself, and said, “I’ll take a small barrel of old Barlemew’s as well.”

He overpaid 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.

“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 regretted having to leave Fendale; he loved its people and the city itself. But at least now he would find out his past, the secret of which was locked away somewhere in the dark recesses of the Ky’Dren Mountains.

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.

“Ah, sunset upon the ocean,” Abram mused as the sun’s rays shot up from behind the clouds in brilliant hues. “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 saved some of the wolf hides and gave a tailor your measurements.”

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 to hold it tight, 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.”

As he stood at the wheel, hypnotized by the steady crashing of small waves and the endless bobbing of the boat, Whill 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 many towns, 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.

Most major towns of Shierdon were built on the edges of Lake Eardon. It was more than 150 miles across, with a large island, Belldon, taking up the middle. Belldon was more of a fortress than a town. In the early days, during the war between the kingdoms, the people of Shierdon could retreat to Belldon and find safe refuge. No army in the history of Agora had ever overtaken the island fortress. As people settled and spread throughout Agora, there were often wars waged over land as each king fought to increase the size of his own kingdom or take over another. Many times Belldon had saved its people, being virtually inaccessible but by boat.

In those days there were many more than four kingdoms of men. What was now Uthen-Arden had at one time been made up of more than twelve small kingdoms, constantly battling for power. As the years passed and lands were taken by war, two kingdoms rose above the rest—Uthen and Arden. After a bloody war between the two, they finally ended the strife and outlined their borders in the Uthen-Arden Peace Treaty. The kingdom of Uthen spanned from what was now the Isladon border, and the existing mountain border of Ky’Dren, eastward to the center of the Thendor Plains. The kingdom of Arden extended from there to the easternmost coast of Agora, beyond the Elgar Mountains and including what was now called Elladrindellia.

The two kingdoms lived in peace for nearly four hundred years until war broke out between them once again. The great war of Uthen-Arden raged for more than thirty years, during which time children were born to both kings: Aldolas, son of the king of Arden and heir to the throne; and Bryella, daughter of the king of Uthen—an old man who had yet failed to produce a son of his own. In the midst of the war, a secret love affair arose between Aldolas and Bryella. It happened that when both kings fell in battle on the Thendor Plains, Aldolas became king of Arden. Shortly after, he called an end to the war and took Bryella as his queen, combining the two great kingdoms into one called Uthen-Arden—though many referred to it simply as Arden.

Isladon had established itself long before the wars of Uthen-Arden. The borders that existed along the Ebony Mountains and down to the coast were made years before either great kingdom came to power. Though many attempts had been made to overtake Isladon, none had succeeded.

Eldalon was the oldest, and possibly strongest, of the four kingdoms of men. This was mostly due to the mountain borders and the Ky’Dren Pass, against which many armies had marched and been defeated. Unlike all other kingdoms, Eldalon maintained a strong alliance with the dwarves. According to legend, this amiable relationship dated back to the time when the king of Eldalon gave the great mountains back to the Dwarves; it had been taken by what was, at one time, the barbarian kingdom of Gothneck. The mines of the Ky’Dren were rich with gold and diamonds, and the dwarves thought a man who would give back such a treasure must be of the noblest kind. They never forgot Eldalon’s kindness and fought alongside it every time the Ky’Dren Pass was challenged.

Whill looked forward to meeting the Ky’Dren dwarves, but more so, he looked forward to finding out what secrets of his their deep chambers and vaults possessed. As he went over the long history of Agora