Well Armed Brides: A Novel of the Highmage's Plight (Highmage’s Plight Series Book 5) Read online

  Well Armed Brides

  By D.H. Aire

  A Novel of the Highmage’s Plight

  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.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  Copyright © 2015 by D.H. Aire

  Cover Copyright © by Christina Yoder

  Edited by Karen MacLeod

  FIRST EDITION

  Books By D.H. Aire

  Highmage’s Plight Series

  by D.H. Aire

  Highmage’s Plight (published by Malachite Quills)

  Merchant and Mages

  Human Mage (published by Spectacular Publishing)

  Highmage

  Well Armed Brides

  Prophecies and Paradox* (forthcoming)

  Also by D.H. Aire

  Flights of Fantasy, Volume 1 (published by Spectacular Publishing)

  Dare 2 Believe Series

  Dare 2 Believe

  Double Dare* (forthcoming)

  Terran Catalyst Series

  Terran Catalyst* (forthcoming)

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Invitations

  Chapter 2 - Seeking a Gift

  Chapter 3 - Heralding

  Chapter 4 - Much to Consider

  Chapter 5 - Bridal Party Issues

  Chapter 6 - The Night before the Wedding

  Chapter 7 - Wedding Jitters

  Chapter 8 - Preparing for the Ceremony

  Chapter 9 - Preparing for the Ceremony

  Chapter 10 - Ceremony

  Chapter 11 - Reception

  Chapter 12 - When in Rome…

  Chapter 13 - Dancing

  Chapter 14 - Keeper of the Keys

  Chapter 15 – Festival Day

  Chapter 16 - The Morning After

  Chapter 17 - Highmage’s Hand

  Chapter 18 - Lady Haydenan

  Chapter 19 - A Hand in the Family

  Chapter 20 - Help on the Way

  Chapter 21 - Mother Calling

  Chapter 22 - Some Wedding Gifts Are Best Returned

  Chapter 23 - Boon

  Chapter 24 - Difficulty Letting Go

  Chapter 25 - Secrecy

  Chapter 26 - Questions of Trust

  Chapter 27 - How to Clean a Troll

  Chapter 28 - Grooming a Troll Can Be Painful

  Chapter 29 - Rian

  Chapter 30 - Secrets Revealed

  Chapter 31 - Damsel in Distress

  Chapter 32 - Truth and Illusion

  Chapter 33 - Black Out

  Chapter 34 - Another Human Mage

  Chapter 35 - Marshall General

  Chapter 36 - Marginal Lives

  Chapter 37 - Family

  Chapter 38 - Truth and Illusion

  Chapter 39 - Talisman

  Chapter 40 - Stalling

  Chapter 41 - Mother Knows Best

  Chapter 42 - Conference

  Chapter 43 - Someone Could Use a Manual

  Chapter 44 - Fifth Legion

  Chapter 45 - Games

  Chapter 46 - A Night to Remember

  Chapter 47 - The Power of Stone

  Chapter 48 - Playing a Deadly Game

  Chapter 49 - Catch

  Chapter 50 - Scryer’s Honor

  Postscript

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  In Memory of

  Sandy

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to thank my copyeditor, Karen MacLeod, for all her help with this volume. Any errors are my fault for disagreeing with her, a very rare occurrence.

  I must also thank Christina Yoder, who did another magnificent job on the cover art for this book. She’s a real find and has been a joy to work with. She’s brought my characters to life and hopefully enticed you to buy this novel and enter the world of the Plight.

  Finally to you, my friends and readers, who have purchased this book. This story began almost twenty years ago. Thank you for buying this book and letting my characters into your lives. They have been members of my family for a very long time.

  Dare to believe.

  D.H. Aire

  www.dhr2believe.net

  April 2015

  Prologue

  She stood on the prow of the ship as more sails were unfurled and looked back at the cliffs of the Empire. Fate had played a terrible trick on her. How could she love so much and leave it all behind? Her heart was breaking, knowing this was both a matter of honor and of prophecy.

  Below deck her rather large horse neighed, calling her from her morose thoughts. As she moved closer to the cargo hatch, the smell hit her. Pungent and acrid, it brought tears to her eyes, or, at least that’s what she told herself as the crystalline anklet on her right foot glowed, reflecting out her sorrows.

  Come back! The distant mind voice cried, yet the woman in the dark robe, daggers and a sword concealed beneath it, heard it not at all.

  When she reached her rather large mare, she slipped into its stall, “Shh, I’m here now.”

  The mare quieted. Her eyes wide and filled with a compassion that looked practically human.

  In the next stall, the stallion she brought with them, glanced at the haystack across the room, uncertainly, as the ship gently rocked.

  The young woman shook her head, stroking her mount’s muzzle. “You and I will be just fine, won’t we?”

  Her mount nodded, feeling reality rippling around them as prophecy cast its die into paradox.

  “Taking on the world… and just think, I only got married a week ago.”

  “Ohhh,” someone said, moaning.

  She turned toward the haystack as a rather small arm poked out and a dwarf rolled free.

  “Tett! What are you doing here?”

  “Huh? Where am—”

  There was another groan. “By the Empress!”

  She winced, “Spiro! What are you two doing here?”

  “Um, Lady! Oh, my aching head, another ship? Hey, where are we bound?”

  With a sigh, she replied, “The last place in the world you two should be… Cathart.”

  “I’m going to kill Fronkwin! Rescue a ruddy statue, he says… now bound for… Lady, what do you think you’re doing leaving…”


  “Don’t say it… I’m going home to break a Curse and I don’t need you two to do it, either!”

  Tett glanced at Spiro, “Um, what’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Me?” Spiro asked. “I remember our taking on… or did I dream that ruddy statue hitting you over the head before he turned on me and muttered something about our disturbing his sleep…”

  She frowned, thinking back.

  #

  The barn served as a sally at times like this and Cle’or was not one to let a moment pass when she could get one of her charges back in shape. “You are too slow,” she warned as she forced another parry.

  The sound the two elvin bane swords made when clashing carried a vibration beyond that of normal swords did. Also, in the Empire, no sword was without some level of enchantment unless the wielder elected not to pay the price. Such poor fools generally did not get much use out of having a sword since they paid the sword’s price with their blood and foolishness.

  The bane swords hummed between them. Faeryn-mage wrought their swords were not precisely a pair, but you could say they were made for them. The rather large young mare and stallion in the stalls watched as Cle’or put the younger Fri’il through her paces.

  Both were sweating hard before the practice was done, yet that was not good enough for Cle’or, who was the House weapons master for good reason. “That’s been a good warm-up, now let’s spar in earnest.”

  Fri’il groaned, knowing what would happen in the next moment if she hesitated. She dove left as Cle’or moved with blinding speed, her bane’s edge narrowly missing her. “Fri’il, motherhood is no excuse!”

  Knowing better than to reply, Fri’il ducked the blade and abruptly sensed Cle’or’s next series of moves. Eyes wide, the crystal anklets on their feet flashing with white light, Fri’il met the attack, parried, lunged, parried, feeling the sword becoming an extension of her hand.

  But it was not enough. Cle’or was far more experienced, with dozens of very fine scars to prove it. She bore in on the younger woman, whose bodice was dripping with sweat as she fought the ever-closing magical blade.

  As the anklets glowed, Fri’il unconsciously reached, willing herself to anticipate Cle’or’s next moves, knowing the wiley woman was about to come in for a killing move… then she abruptly “saw” what Cle’or intended after a series of feints.

  She countered, pretended to move to where Cle’or wanted her, then twisted back and swatted Cle’or’s behind.

  “Ouch!”

  They separated; Fri’il’s mind feeling like it would split in half.

  “Excellent!” Cle’or said. “You practically moved as I do and smoothly.” She rubbed her backside. “So that’s what the bane sword feels like.”

  “Dozens of stinging bees, you mean?”

  Cle’or nodded, “Good incentive not to get hit.”

  Smiling, Fri’il nodded, sheathing her sword, “I’ve another… Ri’ori should be waking up soon and will need feeding.”

  The weapons master nodded. “And I’ll polish this baby of mine before Lord Je’orj has that mysterious talk with all of us later.”

  The battle steeds glanced at each other.

  Chapter 1 - Invitations

  “She can’t be serious!” Lord Tane railed, hearing the news after reading the note from his sister. He paced before the balcony overlooking the southern edge of the Empire to the ocean and the locks that brought ships to the escarpment.

  His old dwarven retainer slipped out of the room.

  His cousin, Tristan, his representative to the Imperial Court sighed, “The Empress thinks she can do what she wishes. She’s made him… a human… Highmage, and with his help, put down the rebellion.”

  “You say Hayden lives.”

  “He’s her prisoner. I know not when she intends to execute him.”

  “She won’t. She erroneously believes holding him hostage will keep his people from further mischief. But she’s mistaken.”

  “So, they are raising another army?”

  “Their new lord and master is…”

  “What?”

  “My sister… smuggled that letter out to me.”

  “By the Gate, no… Kolter?”

  “He’s using my brother-in-law’s folly for more than raising hell for Her Majesty.”

  Tristan frowned. “You can’t mean…”

  “Archmage, and now Lord of Hayden in his kinsman’s stead— he’d prefer Hayden lose his head than threaten to take back his rightful place.”

  “Cousin, what will you do?”

  Lord Tane laughed, “Why, send you back to the Capital. Represent us at the Empress’s wedding and make sure she knows we are loyal to her… and find a way to kill the Highmage, while you are at it.”

  “Without letting anyone know I did, you mean.”

  “Most assuredly, kinsman… and be sure to avenge his death, so that the Empress might consider my tractable son as husband in his stead. No one can claim him sterile, at least.”

  Tristan smiled, thinking, Lord Tristan sounded much better than Count.

  #

  The old dwarf left Lord Tane’s apartments and paused before a door of stone. He glanced back, saw no one, and pushed on the stone just so. His handprint glowed and the wall slid backward without a sound.

  He entered the passage and the door closed behind him, leaving him in darkness. Walking with little or no light was easy for dwarves, particularly in the warrens of the cliffside of Tane Keep. Once bustling with dwarves, the Keep was barred by Lord Tane to all but the Servants.

  Taking turns and going down sloping pathways he traveled through the warrens until he came to the sacred hallow. Torches were lit. A half dozen dwarven elders clustered around the statue of their last true Lord, Master of Stone and Dwarves.

  “Well, what’s happening?”

  “Tane got word that the human mage marries the Empress…”

  There was a collective gasp. “The Prophecy.”

  The old servant nodded, “The time is upon us. The Betrayer must be betrayed.”

  “We must warn Fronkwin.”

  #

  Kolter completed his spell chant as he knelt beside the altar, blood pooling at its base as his sacrifice spasmed one last time, “Master… Master…. I seek to do thine bidding.”

  Steam welled from the blood, rose, gathered itself, and the faint image of the hooded face of the Demonlord coalesced. ‘Fool.’

  “Master, I have not failed you!”

  ‘Fool, the battle was supposed to be a ruse! The city should have been destroyed and the Empress and that… that out-world human with it!’

  “Great Lord, the Empire can yet be brought to civil war!”

  ‘The Imperial Wards are renewed, you fool. The palace itself is now impossible to scry by normal means from within the Capital. My minions assault the Northlands and have brought the House of Gwire and their kingdom down. I have destroyed Imperial legions, yet the survivors harass my army of goblins and the Imperial Bastian holds against me.’

  Kolter feared interrupting his fey master again as steam roiled as the image seethed in anger.

  ‘My hidden banner rules the northern Crescent Lands, while those who should have been suborned have woken my black dragon and somehow twisted its purpose to their ends. I know this is Alrex’s doing… somehow his out-world heir has undone my carefully laid plans.’

  “But, Master, so many are dying, your enemies feed you power even now.”

  ‘Which is the only reason I have not fed on your soul, Elflord.’

  “With your servant, Lord Hayden, fallen into the hands of the Empress, she will certainly execute him for his treason. His Court sees me as their new lord, not trusting his daughter to save them from folly…”

  The image grew fainter. ‘The Imperial Ward even as the wane in Hayden are growing stronger…’

  “This Province is mine, Master,” Kolter said, “and with it our allies in Llewellyn, who I’ve ordered to trap the Imperial flee
t as they return to provision. They will not be able to heed the Empress’s order to provide aid to the Protector’s Lands once the Chainhill’s refugees flood their borders.”

  ‘Do not fail me again, Kolter.’

  “I will not!”

  ‘More sacrifices… younger, more tender…’ and the image dissipated.

  Kolter slumped, sweating from the effort to maintain the spell. He slowly rose and glanced once last time into the eyes of Lady Hayden. “Pity about your accident, but at least your death served a purpose… and your daughter will have no one else to gainsay my advice hereafter.”

  #

  There was a great deal of banging as the dwarves built the dais, while others climbed up and down the scaffolding to drape silk from the walls of the palace’s Great Hall. Others were bringing chairs and stacking them in the hall.

  Amid the racket the Empress, followed by her bane sword-toting bodyguard— a woman who did not look particular comfortable in skirt and Imperial livery, was checking the progress, pausing to have a few words with Master Fwonkin. The gray haired dwarf nodded and called over his son-in-law, Stieven, who rushed to his side. He listened respectively to Her Majesty, nodded, and raced off, shouting.

  George watched from an inner balcony, watching the spectacle as Herald Varian explained how he was supposed to walk to the dais for the ceremony. The scroll he had been given to read and held in his hand did not seem particularly useful. “I understand your concerns… human morés make the elvin ritual a bit difficult to understand.”

  “Oh, I understood you well enough during our little chat yesterday.”

  “You must understand, the invitation of your Cathartan bodyguards will be most… unusual.”

  “They appreciate that, believe me… they also think what I must do is rather funny,” he said in a tone, which clearly belied that.

  “Ahem… well, the bridal party will be made up of the Empress’s relatives and representatives of the elvin houses she wishes to honor.”

  “Who will enter before Her Majesty?”

  “But, of course.” Varian frowned. “Unlike yours, who shall follow you down the aisle.”