Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

a personal letter written to him. What made it stand out was the fact that the outer seal looked like it bore the imprint of the royal arms of Gododdin.

I unfolded it, curious who would have sent my father a letter from that unfortunate country. As far as I knew the royal family there was executed about six years before I was born.

My Dear Friend,

I trust this letter finds you well. I wish I could say the same about things here. The Children of Mal’goroth have not been so foolish to disrupt trade yet, so our mutual concerns here are still doing well.

Vendraccus grows bolder by the day and I fear he has agents even within my home. It is impossible to be sure and paranoia and suspicion are now the rule rather than the exception. Thus far he has done little more than harass and antagonize the church of Celior, but numerous murders and back alley brawls hint that he is not content with civilized debate.

Of more immediate concern, I have sad news to deliver. Your friend George Prathion was murdered and the evidence indicates that Nathan Balabas was most likely responsible. Unfortunately we are unable to find him for questioning, but what would you expect when a wizard commits murder? I doubt we could hold him even if we found him.

As I’m sure you know… George was one of the most outspoken detractors of Vendraccus and the Children. I now suspect that Nathan may have thrown his lot in with the cultists since he had no personal issues with George that I am aware of. That bodes ill for all of us as I’m sure you know how badly Vendraccus would love to have a wizard on his side, even if he isn’t one of the old lines.

Take extra caution in your own dealings. Now that George is gone you are the last known descendant of one of the great lines, not that I have to remind you of that.

Please give my regards to your companion, Elena. Though I have not met her I have heard she was good friends with Phillip Balistair. According to all accounts he died well. Had it not been for Nathan’s treachery I am sure he would have kept George safe.

Your Friend,

V.

My father had been friends with another wizard of the old families. That shouldn’t have surprised me, but then I had never known any of them. More interesting was the name ‘Phillip Balistair’. I wondered if he was some relative of Elizabeth Balistair, who I had met last year when she visited Lancaster. From the wording I assumed he was the Anath’Meridum of George Prathion. Too many new facts were rattling around in my skull and I struggled to put them all in place.

More curious was the way the letter was signed, ‘V’. The only person with a V in their name of the royal family in Gododdin, that I knew of, was Valerius; the ill-fated last king of that country. That didn’t mean much of course, my knowledge of royal bloodlines was next to nothing. The royal Graeling family could have had a dozen members with names beginning in the letter ‘v’. I only happened to know Valerius’ name because he had been the last king there.

Had King Edward known of Tyndal’s connections to Gododdin? There were too many things I was ignorant of. Considering what had happened at Lancaster last year many of those things might be deadly. Ignorance would be no shield if more of my father’s old enemies came knocking on my door.

“Mordecai...” Penny’s voice came to me from the hall. “Let’s find something to eat, the daylight is waning.” My stomach agreed with her, so I got up and we went in search of Rose, hoping she would know of a good place to eat.

Chapter 10

Royce Eldridge stood quietly by the outer gate. Since his son had left a week gone by there had been two more disappearances. Consequently Dorian had asked all the outlying villagers to sleep within the castle confines at night. It was a pain for the families that had to leave their homes each evening but they didn’t complain much. Safety was a welcome trade-off for fear. The new town militia couldn't possibly patrol all the outer farms.

The outer curtain wall of Castle Cameron was still in good condition and encircled most of Washbrook. The families that had to relocate each evening found places to sleep with friends and relatives that lived inside the wall. The few who had nowhere to go slept in the completed portion of the castle garrison.

Dorian and Joe McDaniel had done a good job organizing the men of Washbrook into a passable militia. Most of them kept to their normal jobs during the daytime, while a few would remain on duty guarding the gates. The daytime positions were rotated so that no one’s livelihood would be too greatly impacted and they all took turns. At night the men of the village would take up arms and work in shifts to watch the gates, of which there were two. Several would patrol the tops of the walls as well to ensure no one snuck over.

The children were kept busy during the daytime preparing torches and oil lanterns to light the tops of the walls and the areas around the gates. The nighttime shifts and daytime guard positions meant that more work fell on the shoulders of the women of Washbrook but they managed it well. The people of the town were used to hard work. They were a community under siege, but strong organization and constant activity kept fear at bay.

Royce looked over at the other man standing guard at the main gate with him. David Tanner was a lean man, slim and rangy. His work tanning leathers and hides had given him a chronic cough from the fumes but he seemed sturdy enough otherwise. Like Royce he wore a heavy leather jerkin and carried a spear.

David’s daughter had