For Whom the Bell Trolls: Hands of the Highmage, Book 1 Read online

  For Whom

  the Bell Trolls

  D.H. Aire

  Hands of the Highmage

  Book 1

  Copyright © 2016 D.H. Aire

  Cover design by Aleksandra Klepacka

  FIRST EDITION

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Your non-refundable purchase allows you to one legal copy of this work for your own personal use. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload, or for a fee.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination based on documented history, or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Works by D.H. Aire

  Hands of the Highmage Series

  For Whom the Bell Trolls

  Shattered House* (forthcoming)

  The Highmage’s Plight Series

  Highmage’s Plight

  Merchants and Mages

  Human Mage

  Highmage

  Well Armed Brides

  Prophecies’ Pawns* (forthcoming)

  Paradox Lost* (forthcoming)

  Dare2Believe Series

  Dare 2 Believe

  Double Dare

  Triple Dare* (forthcoming)

  Double Double Dare* (forthcoming)

  Terran Catalyst Series

  The Terran Catalyst

  Plymouth and the Rock

  Rock and a Hard Place* (forthcoming)

  Dedication

  To Sarah

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to gratefully acknowledge my copyeditor, Karen MacLeod, for assistance in offering editorial advice on this book. Additionally, I wish to express my appreciation to Aleksandra Klepacka for the wonderful cover design. As ever, I also wish to thank my family and friends for all their support.

  Finally, to you, my friends and readers, who have purchased this book. I’ve known many of these characters for well over thirty years and they never cease to surprise me. They are practically members of my family. Thank you for letting them into your lives.

  D.H. Aire

  March 2016

  Table of Contents

  Works by D.H. Aire

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 – On the One Hand

  Chapter 2 – On the Other Hand

  Chapter 3 – Barrier Mountains

  Chapter 4 – House of Ryff

  Chapter 5 – Great Waste

  Chapter 6 – Game of Catha and Mouse

  Chapter 7 – Great Waste

  Chapter 8 – Badlands

  Chapter 9 – Brigand’s Hall

  Interlude

  Chapter 10 – Badlands and Crescent Lands

  Chapter 11 – Cathart

  Chapter 12 – Badlands

  Chapter 13 – Coastal Waters and Borderlands

  Chapter 14 – Borderlands

  Chapter 15 – Tavern

  Chapter 16 – Cellar

  Chapter 17 – Badlands and Beyond

  Chapter 18 – Hounds

  Chapter 19 – Western Borderlands

  Interlude

  Chapter 20 – Borderlands and the Old Fortress

  Chapter 21 – The Border

  Part II: Dragonmount

  Chapter 22 – Edous and the Thorns

  Chapter 23 – Dragonmount

  Chapter 24 – Southern Crescent Lands

  Chapter 25 – Crescent Lands

  Chapter 26 – Thorns

  Chapter 27 – Dragonmount

  Chapter 28 – The Great Hall

  Interlude

  Chapter 29 – Practice Field

  Chapter 30 – THORINSKATH

  Interlude

  Chapter 31 – Keep

  Chapter 32 – Allegiances

  Chapter 33 – Blood of the Dragon

  Part III: The Troupe

  Chapter 34 – Leave Taking

  Chapter 35 – Difficult Truths

  Chapter 36 – Difficult Journeys

  Chapter 37 – Ripples

  Chapter 38 – Sprites in the Woods

  Chapter 39 – Repairs

  Chapter 40 – Edous

  Interlude

  Chapter 41 – Trelor Border

  Chapter 42 – Rehearsal Time

  Chapter 43 – The Hundred Dales

  Chapter 44 – Thorns

  Chapter 45 – The Great Way

  Chapter 46 – The Towers

  Chapter 47 – Rian

  Chapter 48 – Erkiil

  Interlude

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “Where has that girl gotten off to now?” one of the Imperial guardsman muttered, coming down the palace corridor.

  “You better stop calling her ‘that girl’ or you can expect worse duty than joining the daily search party,” warned his fellow guard coming up the cross hallway.

  She covered my mouth, trying not to make a sound, wanting to giggle as she hid behind a column.

  They passed.

  She felt something behind me go ‘click.’ She turned to stare at the column, finding a glowing outline. She grinned, she loved stumbling upon “Underhill” passages, knowing that time could flow differently within them depending on whether this was an established passage or less so.

  She heard a young woman’s shout, “Any sign of her?”

  That voice decided her. She stepped through, felt the entrance close behind, trusting in her uncanny luck. She found herself atop a winding staircase leading down. “Well, this is different.” She went down the stairs, feeling as if she were going up rather than down. But Underhill was often disorienting. Suddenly she found herself at the bottom of the stair in an oval shaped library, shelves etched into the walls, which were all filled with books. She blinked, realizing that a number of shelves were empty, instead piled with dust.

  One shelf drew her gaze. All the books, pristine. One tome trembled, slid forward in front of her. “Hello, magic book,” she whispered, chuckling and drew it out, then sat on the floor. She opened the unadorned leather cover, and a folded piece of parchment fell out.

  Well, there you are.

  She shook her head, then leaned closer and read.

  First, you need to understand that I can tell no one what I write but you, and I have it on excellent authority, you will think what I write is one of your father’s “faree tales.”

  She frowned. “Huh?”

  Oh, my words surprise you, little lady. Why? You are rather lucky, are you not? So, why should not a book have been written just for you to read? Or an entire library full?

  “What?” she muttered.

  Hmm, let’s set that bit aside for now. Best I begin by first explaining something you take for granted. For every elf in the wo
rld there is a human doppelganger. You are likely unfamiliar with the word, but recognize what I tell you. You have seen it. For every elf, somewhere, there is a human reflection or opposite. The greater the affinity, the more the elf, or elfblood, will look like their human mirror. There is another name for such in your Empire. The elvin call them “Hands.”

  The best known human “Hands” in history are those who serve as the Hand of the Highmage. Such humans seem at times to have magical abilities without use of charms or talismans, something it has long been known to be impossible since humans cannot wield magery, themselves. The easiest way to recognize one of the Highmage’s Hands is by the unicorn that aids them. According to legend once there were many unicorns, but since the migration west across the stars there is but one left, which makes recognizing the Hand of the Highmage easy, unless the unicorn is being rather crafty… I have been warned that in your day there may be no Hand of the Highmage and no unicorn. If both are true, the Empire, the world itself, is doomed and the Demonlord will soon overthrow life and ultimately existence.

  It is up to you to change that, little girl. Yes, I really am writing to you, young lady. And the future hinges on you.

  “Me? But…”

  You will need a lot of luck, but you have that in plenty. You found books –– this book. It is one of many here you will need to read. Ignore the dusty shelves. Those books mattered once, but no longer do. Only these books matter now. Tell no one you have found this place or anything about this book or the others. This must be our secret. Once you read this letter, the words will fade forever and the pages turn to dust. This book and the other you need will share only what you need to know and that but once. I am sorry it must be this way. That is the nature of the magery that wards these words, or so I have been assured.

  You likely do not yet realize it, but you are living in dark times, but you are now our last hope.

  She blinked. “What?”

  The Demonlord has not been defeated. The Empire is in peril. Fulfilling the prophecies to save the Empire and the world will be left to you. And, when all seems lost, remember the greatest magery is the power of paradox…

  The Green Lady

  She stared at the book, muttering, “It’s… not possible.” Shaking her head, “Lady Green,” the name rang in her mind. She was over three centuries dead. The greatest seeress that… “She couldn’t be writing to me…”

  The letter flashed and she thought she heard, “Jewels,” before it turned to dust.

  She gaped.

  The book trembled beside her, began to glow, beckoning to her.

  She stared at it and found herself unable to not turn the cover to the title page. The page was blank, then the ink appeared first in black, then in colors as faces that sometimes were adult, and sometimes those of children stared back at her. Some seemed familiar, but that she knew was ridiculous. The faces twisted, the ink twisting, rose off the page and she found herself staring at a black dragon.

  Poof. It vanished.

  She swallowed. That was worse than any of her father’s “faree stories.”

  “The Book of Hands,” the title page suddenly said.

  Frowning, she did not hesitate, knowing her luck was working overtime, then began to turn the page, the imagery and the title, fading.

  Still frowning, she blinked, realizing she remembers the images of the title page vividly. She pauses and stares as a chapter title appears on the page before her.

  Chapter 1 – On the One Hand

  The mountain breeze that night blew against the tent, lending it a gentle flapping sound which was music to the ears of those who called this land home. The clan’s elder, its patriarch, found himself unable to sleep. His errant grandson was fitfully sleeping nearby in what should have been the darkness at this hour. Instead, his face was cast in a wan glowing light, coming from the crystal hanging from the silver elvin wrought chain.

  That had been a gift from his elfblood son, the boy’s uncle, Balfour. It had once been the possession of his true love, his elvin wife, lost long ago. Win du Nome winced. That’s not my name anymore, not my life… It should have no claim on any of my kin now!

  ‘Fate calls,’ the wind seemed to answer back.

  The old man shook his head and whispered into the night, “Fate has taken my son as guide to the stranger. I do not begrudge it that. Theirs needs were clear. But you –– you’ve no call to claim one of my grandchildren, and him, but a boy!”

  The wind made no answer as the glow from what should not be an enchanted necklace and had not boasted a crystal disk grew bright. The boy rasped in his sleep, “The Waste… They come from the Waste…”

  The elder frowned.

  The boy tossed and turned, “He wakes… He will kill the two-fold man.”

  “Oh, Casber,” his grandfather groaned, hurriedly exiting the tent. He glared out across the encampment, across the steep of the section of the mountains he had long before laid claim. “He is too young. You know he is,” he exclaimed.

  From the shadows cast by the flames at the edge of the central fire pit the wind whispered back, ‘Such is his fate as once it was yours, old friend.’

  #

  His grandson, Casber du Winome, dreamed of a young woman standing upon a great outer wall of a keep, built along a curved ridge. Behind it stood another wall, one toppled down in places, but being rebuilt, stone by stone. The old manse, with its towers, lay within the Keep. An assortment of makeshift tents and smattering of cooking fires lay everywhere with the exception of the ground closest to the ridge. That area served as a training ground.

  Casber had never seen so many people in his life. It had to be as many as filled Citadel in the winter, at least two or three thousand. There were many who were old, many mothers with children, too few men if he were to judge by the adolescent girl archers letting fly at targets on the practice field, or the fact that older girls stood atop the outer walls.

  One young woman looked out from a tower window. Looked directly at him. ‘This is not what you should dream.’

  “Huh?” he muttered in his sleep.

  She sighed, ‘You will meet your fate soon enough, lad.’

  “I don’t understand.”

  ‘You will… but first there are those who will need you.’

  “What? You mean…”

  ‘So, impatient, your friend will need you, but not immediately.’ She pointed. ‘No, those who need you most come from there and… there,’ she pointed. ‘Soon you must aid them. Though, they will argue the point.’

  Frowning, he shook his head, confused. “Who?”

  ‘That can wait for now… sleep, sleep deeply, there will be more nights for such dreams…’

  Casber sighed in his sleep and dreamed only of riding upon a white coated back and racing like the wind through the clouds.

  #

  Win du Nome, aged patriarch of the Winome Clan he had founded upon leaving the Empire long ago with his then only son, his elfblooded son, now found himself dreading each passing day as his human sons and grandsons tended their mountain sheep.

  Daffyd, Casber’s father, saw his father’s face lined with worry and called over his brother. “How does father look to you?”

  “Hmm, that’s his look when his bones tell him a storm is coming.”

  Frowning, Daffyd looked to the clear skies. Shook his head, then noted his father watching Casber come forth from their tent and clouded look that brought.

  “Let’s hope it is only a storm then,” Daffyd muttered as his brother urged him to get back to work, knowing there was much to be done.

  #

  That night the breeze blew hard and Casber grew terribly tired as his grandfather look at the tent walls as if something more than the wind was pacing about them. “Boy, there is nothing more I need. Go sleep.”

  Gratefully, Casber nodded and almost staggered off to bed as the tent’s walls fluttered hard.

  His grandfather sighed, muttering, “Leave us alone.”


  ‘I cannot,’ the winds seemed to answer.

  Chapter 2 – On the Other Hand

  “You have your cargo?” she asked, pouring him a drink.

  “Yes, Ma’am… We’ll sail on the morning tide. But you’re taking a terrible risk…”

  “They’re my ships and they’ll be safer in convoy than singly.”

  “But why this sudden worry over pirates?” he asked, taking the glass from her.

  “The Catha run has rarely faced such challenges.”

  The old woman shook her head. “I’ve heard things are unsettled in the Empire… That means less Imperial Navy ships leaving home in my book… Three more ships will be following you about two days later and four a few days later. And, let’s say, I see a great deal of profit in the winds.”

  “You’re risking everything, Ma’am,” he said, glancing down at the drink.

  “Well, it’s my family’s to risk… Oh, and there’s been a change in plans; my cousin, Helda, will serve as factor… Keep in mind that Catha can be treacherous. No one’s to leave the harbor precincts or travel alone.”

  “You believe those old stories?” he said and chuckled.

  “There’s truth in old wives tales, take it from this old wife, my friend… In any case, this is business and I want you back here as soon as possible… I’ve another run in mind before the weather turns, one that won’t be to Catha.”

  “Where to next? The Southern isles?”

  “No, I’m considering the Empire.”

  He nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Safe journey, Captain.”

  He rose. “Gerty, why the hell are you doing this?”

  She grinned, “Bertrun, don’t you know, women have our secrets?”

  “It’s why I’m glad I don’t live my life according to your family’s odd ways.”

  “Be glad of that,” she replied, knowing the time was at hand. The book that had foretold their way to wealth was on its last page. Thy House will send forth four ships, then three, and five to the land of women’s secrets… It is for this moment fate has lent you success. Accept no trade in goods in turn, for this prophecy demands. Thy kindness will go rewarded many fold. On this the Temple weaves blessings as darkness threatens the world once more.