Fallen Embers (The Alterra Histories) Read Free Page A

best he could to avoid being crushed. As it was, his left leg twisted severely, leaving him in great pain.
    Tarmagil and Tarfion managed to bear the Prince out into the open, where they soon met with the rest of the boar-hunters, who had been drawn to the call of Aruin’s horn.
    When everyone realized the incredible feat Tarfion had performed, his name and future status were assured. King Osgar presented him with many gifts, including a great brooch wrought of silver in the shape of a charging boar with tiny ruby-red eyes. Thereafter, Tarfion was nearly always chosen to accompany the King whenever he set forth, and was proclaimed as the best archer in all the realm.

    Now, twenty years later, Aruin was still alive and healthy, and Tarfion sat waiting for his daughter, about to take her on her first really grand adventure. This had not been the easiest thing in the world to arrange. He recalled when, only two days ago, he had begged an audience with King Osgar to ask that Gaelen be allowed to travel with him so that she might become familiar with the route to Mountain-home.
    “Gaelen? The little one with the short hair?” Osgar shook his head. “She’s quite feral, you know. As her father, you should be teaching her better manners.” He frowned, his dark eyebrows drawing together beneath his crown of woven silver.
    “Begging your pardon, Lord, but I believe she has shown great potential as a hunter-scout. If she would one day follow in the footsteps of her kin, she will need the experience. She is nine-and-forty, and yet has rarely ever ventured beyond the boundaries of our lands.”
    “Yes, I know,” said Osgar. “And the one time she did was in disobedience of her father’s orders, as I recall.”
    Tarfion bit his lower lip briefly, but continued to defend his daughter. “She’s high-spirited and independent. I was once rather the same.”
    “Tarfion, I have known you since you and your brother came into the world. You always knew your place. It’s my opinion that your daughter takes after Tarmagil, and if that is so, then heaven help you.”
    “But Tarmagil is going to the council, and both he and I will swear to keep Gaelen in her place.”
    “Tarmagil has proven himself in countless skirmishes,” said Osgar. “He is now part of my personal guard, even as you are. He has matured beyond foolhardiness—I’m not convinced about Gaelen.”
    “She has a good strong heart and a ready mind. She knows how to use it,” said Tarfion.
    “She had better,” growled Osgar. “I still haven’t forgotten the pit-trap incident.”
    In spite of himself, Tarfion smiled, though he covered it quickly. Gaelen, with the help of two of her friends, had dug a rather impressive trap in the hope of ensnaring large game. Regrettably, they had mistakenly ensnared Osgar in it, along with a rather irate weasel who had thought nothing of discharging scent all over the outraged King. Osgar had locked the young offenders up for nearly a week to teach them the folly of carelessness, almost as long as it took to get the stench out of his hair.
    “Will you agree, my lord? I promise she will do exactly as she is told, will not get in the way, and will throw herself into whatever task she is given. I would be most grateful.”
    Osgar drew a deep sigh. “I suppose she really can’t get into too much trouble, not with your supervision. And I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. If it means so much to you, then I will grant your request.”
    Tarfion understood Osgar’s concerns. The High King, Ri-Elathan, had called an important council to decide how best to deal with Lord Wrothgar, known as the Black Flame, who had been gathering his followers in anticipation of war. Ri-Elathan, it seemed, would now lay plans to march northward to engage the enemy before Lord Wrothgar could fully prepare. It was also known that Kotos, the dark Asarla and right hand of Wrothgar, was readying an assault on the northern realm of Tuathas. Therefore,