Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (2 page)

Trestus dropped his eyes to the ground, “I feel like I failed him and mom.”

Marla's heart ached for him. Ever since they had been boys, Trestus had watched out for Callin. He had always been the responsible one and on numerous occasions had kept Callin from getting into trouble. On the occasions that Callin had gotten into trouble, mom had always blamed both of the boys. Marla shook her head, 'mom conditioned him to think that it was his responsibility'. “Trestus, was there anything more you could have done to protect Callin?” Trestus shook his head. “Well then why are you blaming yourself?”

Trestus looked into Marla's eyes, noting for the second time that she was maturing rapidly. Her arguments made sense, and it did lessen the feeling of guilt, but it was still there nonetheless.

Just then Aileen came through the swinging doors carrying several platters of food. “Come on, and sit down.” Trestus and Marla sat down at the table on the side opposite their mom. “Trestus, we are so proud of you. A soldier came to the shop and announced that you had been awarded the golden dagger. It is such an honor.”

For the first time since he arrived, Trestus smiled. Marla reached over and rubbed his shoulder. “I'm proud of it.” He cleared his throat, “How has business been? Are you doing okay?”

Aileen smiled at her son, “Things have been great. New business has been coming to our shop every day since they announced that you and Callin won the golden dagger.” A look of surprise crossed her face, “Trestus, I almost forgot. Did you know about the money?”

“Money. What money?” Trestus responded.

It was Marla who answered him, “The king has designated a royal allowance for us because of you and Callin. The allowance is more money each week than we used to make in a month.” She said, smiling.

Trestus had always felt a sense of responsibility for taking care of his mother and his sister. With the news of the allowance, a weight seemed like it was lifted off of his shoulders. Even if something happened to him, at least his mom and sister would be taken of. He smiled and reached for the food.

Flare arrived at dinner feeling somewhat anxious, it was a feeling that he was starting to get used to. Once again, it was the young guard
Del
that escorted him to dinner.

The small but elegant dining room had wooden floors and polished red wood columns. The walls were also made of beautiful red wood planking, and the walls were covered with exquisite paintings. Light emanated from two chandeliers, one hanging over each end of the table. The table was made of glass and was set with elegant silverware and an elaborate candelabra.

Flare was the second to arrive for dinner. Another young man was already waiting; he looked Flare up and down as he entered the room. The young man was Darion the second, the crown prince. He looked very much like his father the king, but was only twenty-five years old.

“So you're what all the fuss is about?” The crown prince asked.

“Yes, I'm Flaranthlas,” He answered.

“I'm prince Darion. I am heir to the throne. I do not appreciate, not do I want any other princes. I don't know how elves handle line of succession, but I suggest you don't make any plans on moving up in the order.”

Flare took a deep breath, “Listen to me. I have absolutely no desire to be king. I didn't even want to be a prince of Telur. The king didn't ask me, he told me about all this.”

The prince seemed less than convinced, but he didn't say anything else because at that moment the king and the rest of the guests showed up.

“Hello Darion. Hello Flare,” The king said as he approached them. “I see that you two have already met.”

“Yes,” Darion said, scowling at Flare. “We were just talking.”

“Good. Flare, let me introduce you to my other children.” The king said as he turned sidewise to point out the people with him.

Flare spoke to each of the king's children as he was introduced to them, but he was subdued and quiet in his conversation.

“This is my second son, Aldon,” The king said, pointing to a young man standing off to the side. He looked like his father in the face, but he was more muscular. He had short jet black hair that was already starting to recede. His skin was a dark brown from spending so much time in the sun, and his nose was crooked, apparently from a fight. He appeared to be several years younger than Prince Darion. He also wore a military uniform, although his uniform was of the regular army, and not the guardian uniform like Flare's was.

“Hello,” was all Flare said, shaking Aldon's hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I am in awe of what you did at Mul-dune.” Aldon said seemingly sincere. He appeared to be a serious person with little room for jocularity.

Aldon's words lightened Flare's mood, perhaps the night would not be a total disaster. But then again, the second son had nothing to fear from him. He would not be king regardless of the addition of the new prince.

The king motioned to another young man standing slightly behind Aldon. “This is my third son Danal.”

Danal appeared to be about twenty. He had shoulder length brown hair, and a slim build. Compared to his older brothers, Danal was downright skinny. He had a large flat nose and pasty white skin. He reminded Flare of the children he grew up with who spent more time reading a book than running in the sunlight.

“It's nice to meet you,” Flare said, reaching to shake hands.

“Yeah, it's nice to meet you too,” Danal said. There was no strength in his handshake. He made eye contact with Flare briefly, and then his eyes shifted to his father and then straight to the floor. If anything, Flare thought that Danal and Aldon were unconcerned about his recent adoption.

“And this is my youngest son, Barrett.” Barrett was about sixteen or seventeen and he had sandy blond hair. He had a good complexion, and he would have been thought handsome by the young ladies. He was starting to add the muscle that comes with manhood, and he maintained eye contact with Flare the whole time that king Darion was introducing him.

“Nice to meet you,” Flare said to Barrett as they shook hands.

“I'm sure,” was the cocky answer that Barrett gave. His manner bothered Flare. He had been around spoiled royal children before, and it had been his experience that they could be trouble.

“And these three ladies are my daughters. The eldest is Cierra,” the king said as he pointed to a young blond woman. She had dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Her skin was very dark, and she had the hourglass figure that men like.

“Hello,” Flare said, feeling uncomfortable at the anger in the look that Cierra was giving him. She apparently did not welcome him to the family.

“My middle daughter is
Elizabeth
,” The king said.

“We've already met,” Flare said. “I was supposed to guard her, but I was reassigned at the last minute.” Those words triggered the memories to come flooding back, when he had been assigned to guard the princess Elizabeth but he had been pulled off of the detail at the last minute. Sergeant Latts had said there were some bad rumors about the king's daughters and that they had ruined the careers of some promising young military men. Sergeant Latts had also said that perhaps the king was just protecting Flare from the possibility of scandal. But another thought now occurred to him; perhaps the king was protecting Flare from allowing anything to happen between him and his half sister. He tried not to grimace at the thought.

Elizabeth
, like her older sister Cierra, seemed rather un-happy about having more competition for the throne. Her aloof manner told him more than any words could.

The king smiled as he introduced his last daughter. “This is my youngest, Alicia.”

Flare thought that Alicia was about thirteen or so. She had long white blond hair, and dark skin. Her eyes were a beautiful green that almost seemed to glow.

“It's nice to meet you, Flare.” Alicia said, before he could speak.

“The pleasure's mine,” Flare said smiling. Alicia seemed genuine, and he immediately found himself liking her. She seemed either to not notice the attitudes of her older siblings, or she didn't share their views. Either way, Flare was glad for another friendly face.

The king stepped toward the table, “Come; let us have a seat.”

The dinner was a stiff and unpleasant affair; wonderful food with a side of suspicion and resentment. Aldon, Danal, and Alicia seemed genuinely open to having Flare as an adopted brother, and they were friendly enough to talk to, except Danal. His lack of talking was not because of resentment, but he seemed genuinely shy. The rest did not like Flare and they didn't even try to hide it.

Aldon seemed to carry the conversation, mainly due to his military interest in the happenings at Fort Mul-dune. When his questions ran out, so did most of the conversation.

Prince Darion had barely touched his piece of roast ham, before he excused himself due to an early morning hunt. He was followed in quick order by Cierra, Elizabeth, and Barrett.

'Good riddance.' Flare thought as they left. The mood was certainly more relaxed with them gone.

“Ignore them.” Alicia said. “They always act like that, it's not you.” She smiled as she spoke and Flare found he was smiling back.

“She's right. They always seem like they have a stick up their arse.” Aldon said and Danal giggled.

“Aldon, do not talk like that in front of your sister!” The King said quickly, putting on a stern face.

“Oh father. I've heard worse that that.” She said, then quickly lowering her eyes from the dour look on her father's face.

The king leaned back in his chair. “Well, the mood certainly seemed to lift when they left. Didn't it?”

Chapter 2

Flare started his lessons with Dagan the next morning. The old man insisted on them starting before the sun was even up and Flare was half asleep when he stumbled to Dagan's room.

The old man was already up and sitting in a chair when Flare arrived. He was wrapped up in a heavy blanket, apparently trying to resist the coolness of the early morning. He sat quietly sipping something from a steaming cup.

“Good morning, Flare.” Dagan said with a smile, “Are you ready for some lessons on etiquette and history?”

“Sure, but I hope you don't mind repeating yourself, because this early in the morning, it may take several times for me to remember.”

Dagan's smile grew wider, “I'll try to not bore you too much. Now let's start with the family history of the Earl of Whitehorn....”

Philip sat fidgeting in the parlor of his father's mansion, which was just a short distance from the king's palace. He sat on a small white sofa that had redwood trim, across from two chairs that matched the sofa. Across the room, a wood and glass corner cabinet held several antiques, and there was an exquisitely drawn picture of Philip's mother on the far wall. A small table was in front of the sofa, and two swords were hung crossed on the wall. He had always hated his family's house in the city. Their country estates were so much more enjoyable. His mother, the lady Alela, sat beside him on the sofa. His father was expected at any time.

“We are so proud of you, Philip.” Alela said, smiling at him. She was in her early fifties and was aging gracefully. Her hair hung to her shoulders, and was still dark brown. Her skin was smooth and tan, and had been the object of jealousy from some of the other ladies around the court. She was wearing a long elegant red dress and an enormous diamond ring on her left hand. “You are the first member of the Connell family to ever be awarded the golden dagger.” His mother had always been very supportive of him, almost to the point of coddling. In her eyes he could do no wrong.

Philip, for his part, loved his mother very much and appreciated her unwavering support. His father, on the other hand, insisted on nothing but the very best from him, and his father had always made him nervous. They both had been at the awards ceremony two nights ago and had praised him afterwards, but his father had always been more supportive in public than in private. His mother was telling a story about two ladies in the court who had turned out to be in a delicate situation, but Philip only half listened. His thoughts were elsewhere.

At that moment, Gavin, Philip's father entered the room. He was advanced in years, being almost seventy years old. His thin hair was pure white and he moved slower now than when Philip had been growing up. He had a few more age spots on his face than Philip remembered, but he looked to be in good shape. A stern but sincere smile lit up his face at the sight of his son. “Philip, it's good to have you home.”

Philip stood, as his father entered the room. “Thank you father. It's good to be home. I would have come home yesterday, but I was asked to attend several public ceremonies because of the award.” He fought to keep his hands from fidgeting as he spoke; how he hated the nervousness he always felt around his father.

Gavin waved his hand at Philip. “The people need to see their newest heroes, it's very important for the morale of the people.” He paused a moment, before continuing, “I'm very proud of you. It's quite an honor to be awarded the golden dagger.” Philip smiled at the words of his father, his tension easing. “Philip, the only way it could have been better, is if you had led the guardians instead of that elven bastard.” The last words wiped the smile off of Philip's face.