Chapter 1
A thick blanket of snow covered Eranithia. It was the dead of winter. Most Eranithian's celebrate this time of year with winter festivals, parties, and the Marsh People's firework display to bring in the New Year. However, all of these celebrations are long since passed. Now being the third month of the year, called Treoraigh. Treoraigh ushers in the Spring season.
No celebrations of the end of Winter will be had this year, just like the past eleven years, since Arnath stole the throne. There isn't a soul in Eranithia who can find a thing to celebrate, knowing he's on the throne. But certain events have been put into motion that is bringing hope to the people.
The true king and queen of Eranithia have been traveling their small country to win the people to their side. A proverbial line in the sand has been drawn. Those who wish to fight for peace join Seth and Serina. All those who are too afraid to stand against Arnath, and lack faith in Sol to get them through, take their rightful place at Arnath's side.
It was a cold, hard condition but it was what needed to be decided.
Those who have chosen to side with Seth and Serina have fled their homes in Eranithia to be looked after by the Elves in Ashenland. As soon as the dark sorceress, Seilnai, learned of their treachery against Arnath, she and her evil troops trampled the town, killing everyone. Man and woman, young and old. Children were not spared in fear they would grow to avenge their parents' deaths. If there is one thing a tyrannical king doesn't need, it's a secret rebellion growing stronger under his nose. Those children would grow to become warriors who would outnumber his own one day. Therefore, his kingdom would fall.
However, the rebellion that grew formed right before Arnath's eyes. The only thing he could do was try and kill any that tried to escape. So for this reason alone, he scattered troops all over the land. Some are his own men, others are battalions of men from across the sea, called the Cathians.
As evil as Arnath may be, he's not a dimwitted man. Before he had the power of his sorceress, Seilnai, he had the power of the sorcerer, Engard. Engard had suggested seeking assistance from the Cathians and the Geoth. Arnath had been insulted by the suggestion at first, but as reason sank in, he knew he would need their numbers.
There is nothing to stop the Cathians from coming to Eranithia, except for the Elves and the Centaurs. However, during the reign of an evil king, the Elves restrict themselves from crossing their borders into Eranithia. Considering this is their only way to the shores of Eranithia and Kushen, they were unable to stop the Cathians from landing on Eranithian soil.
For three months, the Centaurs have put up a great defense against the Cathians, but it didn't stop them from reaching Arnath's castle.
To ensure safe passage for Eranithian refugees, Seth put Mark in charge of a small team of the best fighters Ashenland had to offer. Mark called them his special ops team. He'd hoped to have Sasha-Ingatu with him, but he had volunteered to take a regiment across Eranithia to assist the Centaurs against the Cathians trying to breech their borders.
Despite his disappointment of Sasha not joining him, Mark was extremely pleased with his team. He had two sharp shooter archers, he called them snipers; six expert swordsmen; his second; and himself. In the past year, none of their number have fallen.
Mark, looking through his spyglass, given to him by Efreal as a gift, watched the camp of Cathian soldiers. In the center stood a tent much larger than the rest. There, Mark knew, was where their Captain slept, surrounded by his men for safety. The rest of the men slept in small tents made for a single soldier.
Mark was disgusted by the display of arrogance. Seth was to be king but he never put himself above the others he traveled or fought with. He slept on the ground like the others and if the weather called for tents, his was exactly like the others. Mark though it was smart strategically as well. If Seth kept himself equal to all appearances, he'd be harder to find, therefore harder to assassinate.
Mark's second crawled up next to him in the cold snow. Looking over he saw her breath escape her mouth in thin clouds. She'd been reluctant to join his team as his second, feeling she was a more experienced warrior than him, but over the past year, they'd grown to be a great team, and great friends. They've saved each others lives countless times in battle and rescued each other from capture in enemy camps. They have even taken care of each other when the weather was severe.
“How many are there?” she whispered.
“A hundred.”
The beautiful, dark-haired Elf frowned unimpressed as if a hundred soldiers were nothing. They'd faced more together before.
He chuckled at her response, “I guess it's not that much is it, Karis?”
“We've faced more. Let me see,” she said.
Her hand brushing against his as she took the spyglass sent his stomach into cartwheels. He'd always found her attractive since the day they met in that cave. At the time she'd had feelings for Seth, but Seth had made it clear to her that they could never be more than friends and fellow soldiers. But over time she'd forgotten her feelings for Seth and embraced the soldier's life more. Mark couldn't tell how Karis felt about him, because she'd never shown any obvious interest in him, but he was hopeful. There were times he wondered. Mark had almost caught her looking at him one time. She had just looked away when he had turned towards her. Then there was a moment while they were alone together in a cave...
“They're about to change guards,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
She looked at him, catching him staring. Ignoring his stares, she gave him the spyglass then pushed on his chin, twisting his head back to the camp. Seeing she was right about the guard change, he rolled over onto his back, signaled to his snipers then to four of his foot soldiers.
The four foot soldiers sneaked away into the darkness. Their job was to extinguish the four torches at each corner of the camp, allowing Mark to lead the others into the camp in darkness.
Rolling back onto his stomach, he studied the camp again. The guard was changed, and every tent was dark. It was time. Raising his hand, he signaled the snipers one more time. When his hand fell, two guards did as well. Arrows through their throats kept their deaths silent. Mark repeated the signal and the last two guards were down. The foot soldiers at each corner would know when to fulfill their job.
Mark put the spyglass away in a pouch hanging from his belt. Laying perfectly still he waited until the torches were extinguished. Then, looking at Karis, he gave her a wink. Together, with the last two soldiers, they raised up out of the snow, heading for the camp.
They moved slowly to minimize the noise as the snow crunched below their feet. Moving into the camp would be easier since the Cathian Captain had his soldiers clear the area of snow to make it easier to set up their tents.
The damp ground kept their footsteps silent as they weaved their way through the white tents to the large one in the center. Karis stood guard with the others as Mark went into the tent alone. It was pitch black inside, Mark stood blinking for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust. At the far end of the tent from the entrance laid a man on a dozen or so large pillows.
Stepping lightly and silently he crossed the distance from the entrance of the tent to the sleeping Captain. To be sure of a silent escape, Mark struck one of the Captain's temples, then picked him up and carried him out of the tent. Karis led him through the tents while the others kept an eye out for a wandering soldier.
Mark heard the quiet thud and sickening sound of metal entering flesh. Glancing to his right, he saw a Cathian soldier fall to the ground holding his neck where a throwing knife stuck out. One of his men went over and broke the soldier's neck before he could cause a commotion.
It didn't take long to leave the camp and get back to their lookout post. From there, Mark left his two snipers as lookouts in case the Cathian soldiers came for an attack.
A half a mile deeper into the woods, they came to their camp. Mark dropped the heavy Captain then two of his men tied the unconscious man to a tree.
“Shall we wake him?” Karis asked.
“Let me catch my breath first. He was a little heavier than I was expecting,” Mark said, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.
“He wasn't too heavy for our big, strong leader was he?” Karis teased giving him a wink.
He laughed and said, “I'd like to see you do better.”
Karis stood ready to attack Mark. Mark just stared back at her, but he flinched as she took a step forward.
Laughing at him, she said, “Not afraid of a woman now are you?”
Bowing to her in defeat, he said, “Only of you, Karis. Only of you.”
She gave him another wink as she walked towards the fire in the center of their camp. Mark found it impossible to think of being with any other woman but her. She was so strong and sure of herself, but there was a softer side of her he longed to see more of. She'd let her guard down once after rescuing him from Arnath's General.
He'd been stripped to just his under garments, his wrists bound together and extended above his head. The rope that held him up had him high enough off the ground to where his toes just barely scraped the soil. The General beat him every morning for three mornings before Karis and a handful of his men came in to rescue him. Arnath had to promote a new General after that event.
Mark turned back to the Cathian Captain, thinking about the many Generals Arnath had promoted. Since Broc, Arnath had gone through seven top Generals. Seilnai was made commander over the entire army, second only to Arnath. He called her his daughter and queen of Eranithia. But Mark knew who she really was. His twin sister. Her mind, poisoned by the one who called her daughter.
What a loving father, he said.
His blood beginning to boil as he thought of what Arnath was doing to his sister. The things he ordered her to do that she couldn't stop herself from. It made Mark sick with anger.
One of his men brought him a bucket of water. He tested the temperature. Nearly ice. In fact there were a few brittle pieces of ice forming on the surface. He knew exactly how it would feel when the water made contact with the Captain's skin. It was the way he'd been woken up every morning while hanging by his wrists from that tree. The ice cold water biting every piece of your skin it touched. The shock it sent your body into, increasing the pain of the beating.
Throwing the water into the Captain's face seemed to bring him a sense of justification for what he'd gone through almost a year ago. Some scars still remained; physical and emotional.
The Captain woke up with a violent shake then continued to shiver as he came to his senses.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded through chattering teeth.
“Not used to Eranithian winters?” Mark asked, kneeling down in front of him.
Mark saw a flash of fear come over the Captain's face as recognition came over him.
“What are you orders Captain?” Mark broke small pieces off of a twig from the ground.
The Captain kept his mouth shut. He was braver than Mark expected.
“Okay, let's start with a simpler question. What's your name?”
“I am Vin Armadd, Captain of the thirty-first troop of the Cathian army,” he said full of pride.
Mark tried to place the accent. Of course, all he could compare it to was accents from his own world. If he had to guess, he would say Bulgarian, maybe Middle Eastern.
“Well, Captain Armadd, what were your orders?” Mark asked him again.
Armadd laughed at him, showing his yellow teeth, spilling out his putrid breath. Mark suppressed a gag.
“You foolish boy. Do you really think I'm going to tell you anything?”
“Maybe not me, but I do have a reader here. He can tell me what you've been ordered to do.”
“Mind readers, ha! Nobody can penetrate my mind. I am a sealed vault.”
Standing up, Mark continued to stare at Armadd.
“Iriand, we need your assistance,” Mark said, then took a step back.
The young Elf crossed the camp, sheathing his long knives. Stopping next to Mark, he waited for his orders.
“Find out from Captain Armadd what his orders are.”
“Yes, sir,” Iriand said, then knelt down in front of Armadd. Placing his index and middle fingers on Armadd's temples and his thumbs over his forehead, Iriand began searching the Captain's mind.
Mark watched as the Captain twitched, trying to fight Iriand's ability. He could tell Armadd was failing, though. Iriand's head would twitch at different times as he fought through a different defense Armadd tried to throw up.
Mark knelt down next to Iriand, watching the Captain's attempts to fight Iriand off. Then suddenly Iriand pulled away from the Captain. Mark saw Iriand's eyes roll into his head as he passed out. Mark reached out, catching him before he hit the ground. He picked Iriand up and carried him to the fire, laying him down on the ground.
Iriand's eyes blinked open. Looking around, confused, he looked like he didn't know where he was.
“Iriand?” Mark said, trying to read his expressions.
He looked at Mark like he didn't know him.
“Iriand, what happened?”
“Who's Iriand?” he asked Mark.
Staring back at the young Elf, Mark didn't know what to say.
Karis knelt next to him.
“Don't you have the same powers as Seth?”
“I have the same kind of strength, but I don't think I have his healing powers.”
“Try,” she said.
Looking at her, her bright, light brown eyes pierced him. How could he argue with her? The answer was simple. He couldn't.
“Do you remember anything?” he asked Iriand.
The Elf seemed to be growing more scared by the second.
Mark grabbed Iriand's shoulder firmly.
Looking directly into his eyes Mark asked again, “Do you remember anything at all Iriand?”
“Why do you keep calling me Iriand?
“What is your name then?” Mark asked him.
“I-I don't remember.”
Mark looked at Karis again, then back at Iriand.
“I'm going to try and heal you. Will you let me?”
Iriand looked at Karis. She seemed to be most familiar to him.
“I know you,” he said to her.
“Of course you do. I'm your cousin, Karis.”
Mark looked at her suddenly. Why didn't he know this? Did this mean she was Lana sister? Or was there another sibling amongst their parents that he didn't know about?
Karis ignored him as she tried to get through to her cousin.
“Listen, your name is Iriand. This is Mark and he is going to try and fix whatever broke inside your mind. Will you let him?”
Iriand's eyes bounced from Karis's to Mark's. Finally he began to relax. There was something about Karis he trusted. Mark wondered if blood was more than just the life source for living beings. If maybe it carried a bond with family that not even memory loss could break.
“Yes,” Iriand said finally.
Reaching for Iriand, Mark placed his right hand on the side of Iriand's head. He closed his eyes and prayed to Sol. His hand began tingling with warmth. When he opened his eyes he found his hand glowing with a soft, white light. Closing his eyes again, he saw into Iriand's mind. It was black like a dark poison sifted through his braincells. Then Mark focused on the black and it began to leave Iriand's mind. Like a vacuum sucking up a pool of black water.
When the black was gone from Iriand's mind, Mark pulled his hand away, falling back onto the soft soil.
“How do you feel?” Karis asked Iriand.
He looked at her, this time knowing everything he once knew.
“I feel fine. What happened?”
“When you read Captain Armadd's mind, you were somehow poisoned,” Mark said, feeling drained of all his energy. He could barely raise his arms.
“How was he able to do that?” Iriand asked.
“Seilnai,” Mark said trying to stand up. “She must have put some kind of protection over the military leaders to keep them from giving secrets away.”
“Well, it didn't work, whatever she did. I was able to find what his orders were,” Iriand said.
Twisting his head around quickly, Mark looked at Iriand, asking, “Really?”
“Yes, they are heading for Fortuna to take it back.”
“Of course!” Mark said. “It was the first place to join our side. Their rebellion cost Arnath his financial resources!”
“It's also the largest city in Eranithia. Close to the Gar Mountains. It's well protected. A natural defense,” Karis said.
“Trien!” Mark called out.
A tall, black haired Elf walked up to him.
“Send a message to Garandol. We have reliable intelligence that Arnath is trying to take back Fortuna. Tell him, also, that we have Captain Vin Armadd of the Cathians.”
“Yes, sir,” he said bowing slightly as he walked away to send the message to Garandol.
“What do we do with Armadd?” Karis asked.
“Take him back to Ashenland as a prisoner of war.”
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