Truth: Makilien Trilogy - Book 1

  “I do not know. I was sent straight here with the news.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Personally, I do not, but it is not my place to judge a man I have only met but once,” Arphen answered.

  “Does Lord Darand want us in Minarald?”

  “He does indeed wish to seek your counsel. And, if Lord Elnauhir is willing, Lord Darand also believes it would be wise to bring our armies together at this time and fortify the city.”

  “Has this former captain of Zirtan said we’ll be attacked soon?” Lord Elnauhir asked.

  “No, my lord, quite the opposite in fact, but Lord Darand does not want to take the risk.”

  Elnauhir nodded grimly. “I will gather my army and set out for Minarald within two days’ time.”

  “And I, and whoever wishes to join me, will leave in the morning,” Halandor said.

  “I too will rest here overnight and leave in the morning,” Arphen told them. “I will fly straight to Minarald and inform Lord Darand you are on your way. I will also see that the road ahead is free of danger.”

  “Thank you, Arphen.”

  Everyone turned to go their separate ways. Elnauhir had much to do to prepare his army, and Vonawyn and her brothers went off with Arphen to show the noble creature a place to rest and spend the night. Makilien found herself left standing with Halandor, Loron, and Torick.

  “I’m going with you to Minarald,” Torick informed Halandor.

  “So am I,” Loron said.

  “Is it still all right if I come?” Makilien asked.

  “If that is still what you want,” Halandor answered. “Elimar is one of the safest places in Dolennar right now.”

  “I do want to.”

  With a smile, Torick said, “Well then, when we get there, we can introduce you to Meniah.”

  Makilien frowned. “Who is Meniah?”

  “He has been advising Lord Darand,” Halandor explained. “We all feel that without him, we wouldn’t be nearly as prepared to face Zirtan as we are.”

  Makilien was interested by how both Torick and Halandor spoke of him with such reverence. If he was more responsible for preparing Eldor to face Zirtan than her king, he must surely be a great man indeed.

  * * *

  The sun only just reached the treetops, but Makilien had been awake for over an hour. Everyone gathered outside with Lord Elnauhir and his family. The horses were each saddled and waited only for their riders to say goodbye before beginning their journey.

  “I’ll see you in a few days,” Vonawyn told Makilien.

  “You’re coming to Minarald?” she asked.

  “Yes. Once fighting begins, there will be a need for those able to help the wounded.”

  It was a grim reality.

  Shortly, Makilien and her companions mounted their horses. Arphen extended his wings and, with a couple of great flaps, he soared into the air. Makilien watched him in amazement until he disappeared. It was time now for them to leave. Halandor took the lead. Following, Makilien looked around her as they left Elimar. She hated to leave the beauty and comfort of the Elven dwelling, but Halandor had told her it was only a three day ride to Minarald and the greatness of that city was comparable to Elimar’s beauty.

  When they left the forest surrounding Elimar, wide open grassland spread out before them, interrupted only by a few shrubs and rocks and the road they traveled. They rode through the open plain almost non-stop throughout the day, their longest rest coming at noon, but even then they were on their way quickly.

  After all day in the saddle, Makilien was relieved when their group halted as dusk fell around them.

  “We’ll camp here tonight,” Halandor said, gesturing to a small, grassy knoll just off the well-traveled path.

  Slowly, Makilien dismounted, aching all over. The only thing she wanted was to curl up under a blanket and sleep. Tonight she would certainly miss her bed in Elimar. However, any rest would have to wait. Camp needed to be set up, and Makilien was determined to prove herself capable.

  The horses were unsaddled first and picketed at the edge of camp. A fire was lit soon after and Makilien got her chance to sit down as Halandor aided Torick with supper preparations. By the time it was finished, Makilien was almost too tired to eat, but once she began, she realized her hunger. When her plate was empty, she took out her bedroll asking if she could do anything else to help, but her companions understood her weariness and told her to sleep.

  * * *

  Stars twinkled overhead when Makilien yawned and opened her eyes. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep or how much time it would be yet until dawn. Rolling over, she made herself comfortable and tried to fall back to sleep, but it didn’t come as easily as it had previously. Her mind filled with thoughts that kept her wide awake.

  For a long time, Makilien lay still, trying to quiet her mind, but at last, she gave up and looked around camp. Torick and Loron were fast asleep off to her left. Looking to her right, she saw Halandor sitting at the edge of camp on watch.

  With a sigh, Makilien got up. She wanted to sleep knowing they had another tiring day of riding ahead, but it wasn’t going to happen. Hoping she might sleep a bit more after a while, she walked quietly over to Halandor.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked in a whisper.

  Makilien shook her head. “No. There is too much on my mind.”

  Halandor looked at her face in the moonlight. “Is it anything you’d like to talk about?”

  “It’s just a lot of things. I keep thinking about my family. I’ve never been away from them before this. As glad as I am to be here, I still miss them.”

  “It’s always hard to be separated from family.”

  Makilien nodded, knowing Halandor understood. She pulled her knees up to her chest. Staring out at the vast sea of moonlit grassland, she said, “All this is still so much to take in. Even something as familiar to you as all this open land is completely foreign to me. There is no openness like this anywhere in Reylaun.” She took a deep breath. “It gives me a feeling of freedom. I wish my family could experience it.”

  Halandor gazed out at the open plains along with her and then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, Makilien, you can be free no matter where you are, even if you were again a prisoner in Reylaun.”

  Makilien gave him a questioning look. “How?”

  “If you’ve placed your trust in Elohim, even if you are physically imprisoned, your soul is free.”

  Makilien silently contemplated those words. Deep down, she did want to believe that, but she just couldn’t quite understand it. Now and then she thought about the things Halandor and Torick said, but it all seemed so overwhelming to try to figure out. She did not respond, and Halandor let the subject drop for now.

  “How long until dawn?” Makilien asked a little while later.

  “About an hour,” Halandor answered.

  Makilien rose. “I think I will try to sleep a little more.”

  Listening to her return to her bedroll and settle down again, Halandor looked up at the vastness of the sky created by the God he had spent his life serving. He had never once regretted a moment of it. On the contrary, Elohim always gave him strength, peace, and assurance, even during the times that had tested his faith the most. He wanted the same security for Makilien, and in the time before dawn, he prayed continuously.

  Chapter Eleven

  Minarald

  When Makilien laid eyes on Minarald, all of the weariness from their journey was forgotten. The city truly was magnificent, even from a distance. A granite wall formed a huge circle around the city, one which had been built at the base of a towering mountain range that stretched as far as Makilien could see. She had been awestricken by the beauty of Elimar, but the splendor of Minarald was in its size. Makilien would have been content to just stare at it from their position on the crest of a hill, but her friends moved on and she followed, anxious to see the city from inside.

  Within ten minutes, the foursome approached the
city’s main gate, and Makilien had to tip her head back to see the top of the wall, which towered an amazing sixty feet above the ground.

  Two soldiers dressed in a combination of royal blue, black, and silver uniforms stood guard on either side of the open archway of the gate, and Makilien had seen soldiers patrolling the top of the wall as well. The soldiers at the gate nodded in recognition of Halandor and let them pass without a word. As soon as they were within the city wall, the dirt road they had traveled gave way to a wide stone-paved street.

  They followed the street deep into the city, and Makilien gazed up at the buildings rising above them. Many were as tall as the wall surrounding them, and all were constructed of the same granite. They were made with great precision and quite beautiful. The granite used was not the typical, dreary gray stone a couple of the buildings in Reylaun had been built with, but an entirely different type of stone. It was much lighter in color, almost silvery, and seemed to reflect light. Upon questioning, Makilien learned it was a granite found only within this area of the mountains, therefore it was a city unlike any other.

  Once Makilien had taken a good look at the buildings, her eyes dropped down to the street and the people walking there. They were certainly different from the people of Reylaun and Andin. Their clothing was finer, and they appeared more sophisticated in their manner.

  At the halfway point of the city, they came to another wall. Though not as tall as the first, it was impressive nonetheless.

  “Why are there two walls?” Makilien asked curiously.

  “This is the original wall, built when the city was founded,” Halandor told her. “The new wall was then constructed after the city expanded.”

  Fascinated with the grand city, Makilien wondered about its history. “Who founded Minarald?”

  “A man named Baltar. He and a group of men and women escaping persecution in the south came north and settled here,” Halandor gave her a brief history. “His son was the first king of Eldor.”

  Within the heart of the oldest, inner part of the city they came to a grand stable—the royal stable. They dismounted and left their mounts with the stablemen before they continued from there on foot. Shortly, they came to yet another wall, this one being only about thirty feet in height. They again passed the guards at the gate and came into an amazing open courtyard. On the far side stood the palace, the largest and most magnificent structure in the city. Rows of tall windows lined the three story building and huge granite pillars supported second and third story balconies. Makilien’s three friends smiled at the look of wonder on her face.

  In the middle of the courtyard, where a beautiful pond and fountain sparkled, they were met by a man. Auburn hair just reached his shoulders, and he wore the same royal blue shirt and black jerkin with a silver emblem embroidered in the middle as the other soldiers, but his attire sported more trim and military detailing leading Makilien rightly to believe he was of much higher rank. Makilien was immediately impressed by his dignified appearance and wondered for a moment if he was Meniah.

  The soldier greeted Halandor, Loron, and Torick in a friendly and familiar way.

  “Lord Darand will be pleased to know you have arrived,” he said, his voice deep and noble. “He’s been expecting you.” Once he said this, his gaze shifted to Makilien, and he smiled handsomely. “You must be Makilien.”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “I am Nirgon. Arphen told us of you and your escape from Reylaun. I am honored to meet you.”

  Makilien’s smile came easily. “Thank you. I am very pleased to meet you as well.”

  To the whole group, Nirgon said, “Lord Darand is in the throne room. He will want to see you right away. I will join you shortly after I see to some business at the barracks.”

  Halandor nodded and led them up to the palace while Nirgon went in the opposite direction. As they approached the palace doors, Halandor told Makilien, “Nirgon is Eldor’s general. He commands all the soldiers stationed here in Minarald as well as those in the outposts scattered throughout Eldor.”

  Makilien was once again impressed. “He’s in charge of all of them?”

  “Yes. The only ones with more authority are Lord Darand and his son, Prince Darian.”

  Makilien glanced over her shoulder, catching a last glimpse of Nirgon as he passed through the courtyard gate.

  “He seems to be a very good general,” Makilien remarked.

  “He is,” Torick confirmed. “He’s said to be the finest Eldor has ever had.”

  Inside, the interior of the palace was as grand as it had looked from outdoors. Makilien hadn’t thought any building could be larger than Lord Elnauhir’s house, but the palace surely was. They walked down a large hall that made Makilien feel very small and then came to the open doors of the throne room, which were guarded on both sides. The room itself was spacious and fit for a reigning king. Colorful banners and tapestries decorated the walls and various pieces of furniture occupied the room. At the far end, sitting on a raised marble platform, was the throne itself, carved out of a deep mahogany wood. The throne was unoccupied, but a man stood at a long table, studying the several pieces of parchment lain across it.

  This man looked up as soon as he heard them enter. Makilien could see he was very pleased to see her companions and came away from the table to meet them. She guessed him to be about the same age as Torick and Halandor. He had light hair and twinkling blue eyes, and though he wore no crown at this time, Makilien knew he must be Lord Darand. He had the look of a king, yet appeared very kind.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Darand said warmly.

  It was in that moment Makilien realized how much the king valued her friends’ counsel.

  “Has anything changed since Arphen brought us news?” Halandor asked.

  “No, but there are things I wish to discuss with you,” Darand answered, yet he didn’t go immediately into discussion of them. His attention went first to his new guest. “You must be Makilien,” he said with the kindness of a grandfather.

  “Yes, my lord,” Makilien answered respectfully.

  “I welcome you to Minarald.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I am very pleased to be here. Your city is magnificent.”

  Darand smiled at her and then motioned for her and the others to follow him. He brought them to a table and invited them to sit down. As soon as they were all seated, the men began their discussion with the king.

  “Tell us about this captain of Zirtan’s,” Halandor said, anxious for more information.

  “Gornath.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “No,” Darand answered. “After speaking with him extensively, I didn’t feel at all that he can be trusted. Meniah has also warned me not to trust him.”

  “Where is Gornath now?” Torick asked.

  “I’ve provided him a place to stay. He does not know yet that we are suspicious, but I have men secretly keeping watch over him. If he is not here to help us, Zirtan must have sent him for a reason, and I want to know why. If he does anything suspicious, he’ll be brought in and we’ll try to gain truthful information from him.”

  “What has he told you so far?” Halandor questioned.

  In the next while, Darand informed them of all Gornath had divulged. Some Arphen had already shared, and other bits and pieces Makilien didn’t understand. Before Darand could finish, one of the palace guards walked in.

  “My lord, I’ve received word your son has arrived,” he announced.

  “Good, thank you,” Darand replied with a pleased smile. He turned back to Makilien’s friends. “Darian has been visiting the villages to see how many extra men are capable and willing to fight.”

  They rose from the table as the king did.

  “Supper will be served shortly. I will let you go to your rooms to prepare.” Lord Darand called for a young woman servant and gestured to Makilien. “Take our new guest to a room and see that she has everything she needs.”

  “Yes, my lord.”
br />   To Makilien, Darand said, “After you have freshened up you can return here.”

  Makilien followed the servant through the palace. At one point, they came to a wide, very tall staircase and climbed it to the second floor. Makilien was careful to remember the way back to the throne room in case no one was around to direct her.

  Finally, the servant opened a door, and Makilien stepped into a large bedroom.

  “I will have warm water brought up for you to wash,” the servant said.

  “Thank you,” Makilien replied with a smile.

  While she was alone, Makilien explored the room. She was delighted to find it had a balcony. Opening the double glass doors, she stepped out. The view she had over the city was breathtaking. It was a perfect scene and a perfect place to add yet another sketch to her book.

  In a few minutes, a servant returned with a pitcher of water and set it on the washstand. When she had left again, Makilien washed up. She didn’t know how long she had until supper was served, and she didn’t want to keep anyone waiting, so she worked quickly. Once she was clean, she re-braided her hair and left her bedroom.

  Several voices came from the throne room as Makilien neared. She heard Darand’s voice and others she did not recognize. Remembering the guard’s announcement, she guessed one of the voices must belong to Lord Darand’s son. She was curious to see what the prince would be like.

  When Makilien walked in, five new men had gathered besides her three friends, and Lord Darand and General Nirgon. Makilien approached them quietly and studied the new group with interest. Halandor saw her first and motioned for her to join them. When Darand noticed she was present, he smiled.

  “Makilien, come and meet my son.”

  He introduced her to one of the young men in the group. The prince was a handsome man with much darker hair than his father, but he possessed the same kindness in his eyes. With a sincere smile, Darian said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Makilien. It is good to know not everyone in the captive villages of the North have fallen for Zirtan’s lies.”