The Errant Princess

By Aidan Hennessy

A decade has passed since Aelzandar joined the Grey Mages. A new faith sweeps the lands of Goriinchia, and an ambitious warlord unites the disparate tribes, but in the north Alusine Ran-Tyron ascends to the Emparian throne, hoping for a glorious and peaceful reign.

Aelzandar's time with the Grey Mages comes to a tragic end, and though Alusine's favour rescues Aelzandar from a horrific fate, Aelzandar cannot help but think of those he has lost, even as he tutors Alusine's daughter, the Princess Ellinda, in the ways of the Art.

When Ellinda flees her loveless marriage, Aelzandar is honour bound to find her, even if doing so disturbs the ghosts of his past and uncovers a far more dangerous and insidious threat to the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aidan Hennessy
• Release date: Aug 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648186403

Aidan Hennessy

Aidan Hennessy lives in Canberra, Australia, with his wife, three children and two ginger cats. He spends his days fighting that most tenacious of foes, procrastination.

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The Errant Princess

Works by Aidan Hennessy

THE TALES OF AELZANDAR

The Grey Mage

The Errant Princess

THE AP’LYDIN CHRONICLES

The Heirs of Lydin

The Slaves of the Horned God

The Tears of the Divine (2020)

Published by Aidan Hennessy at Smashwords

Copyright © 2019 Aidan Hennessy

Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

All rights reserved.

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For Qara.

My own errant princess.

CONTENTS

Southern Goriinchia

Oldharbour

Emperor’s Palace

Hotar Citadel

Genio

About the Author

Southern Goriinchia

Year 1497 of the Second Epoch

A child once asked me what the difference was between stories and real life. The answer is simple: stories sometimes have happy endings.

My name is Aelzandar. Once, my story was like any other Eldara’s. Then I saw my home taken from me. War tore my family apart, and I endured the loss of my liberty and the brutal life of a slave.

But Cassian the Grey saved me. He rescued me from my misery and restored my freedom. He elevated me to new heights, welcoming me into his cadre of mages. I discovered my talent for the Art – magic, as the humans like to call it – and joined them as a brother and an equal.

We were a brethren united in our pursuit of the Art, free from the chaos of the outside world. That is, until the great War of the Mages erupted. Kelloccio the White and Rive the Unholy plunged entire nations into turmoil as each sought to end the other. We had no desire to join this conflict.

Instead, it came to us.

When word spread that Rive was dead, defeated during a great battle in distant Skurj, we thought the threat had passed. We were unprepared for the mass of soldiers that landed on our doorstep. Rive’s pupil, Ralur, had taken up his master’s mantle, and he had long viewed Cassian as a traitor for having left Rive’s tutelage. Ralur’s vessels crossed the seas from Carurlonia, their decks crowded with hired swords. They landed at the coastal village of Korfar, eliminated all resistance and pushed his soldiers towards us.

Hoping to rely on my superior Eldara sense and reflexes, Cassian sent me to scout for information about the forces arrayed against us. I could only hope those same senses hadn’t dulled from years of disuse.

The path from Korfar was treacherous and thickly forested, and any army using it would find their journey slow moving. For days I sat and watched, but perceived nothing of interest. Until I saw the boy.

He hurtled through the undergrowth, panic marking his features. He took no care to quiet his steps, nor for that matter the noise his hands made as they broke through the foliage of the trees which stood in his way. I watched him with interest and more than a bit of caution, making sure to not reveal myself. I did not yet know if this boy was friend or foe.

Others soon came, crashing through the scrub. These were warriors, tall and heavily armed. Through the trees, I glimpsed grey-green complexions and cruel, tusked mouths.

Orschans. The folk of the southern lands of Orspederia were common in the mercenary trade of many nations but unknown in the wilds of Goriinchia. They could have only arrived with Ralur.

Ugly brutes. I recalled a lesson from my childhood: that Orschans had once been Eldara themselves, a tale that had always struck me as ridiculous. What dark power could possibly transform them into such a vile form?

One of the Orschans caught sight of the boy and roared out a challenge. The rest of them joined in, and nearly tore their way through the trees to catch the boy.

The youth stepped back, looking for an avenue of escape but the Orschans surrounded him. He drew his blade, but the pitiful weapon was little more than a knife and would do precious little against the weapons of his pursuers.

I was conflicted. I did not care to see this youth perish, but I also knew that it was not wise to alert the enemy to my presence, particularly when I was not sure that I could best them all.

The Orschans closed in on the boy, who shook as he held his knife out in front of him.

Valour got the better of me. Despite my reservations, I stepped from my hiding spot. Before anyone could react I had already loosed an arrow. It flew through the air, sticking in the throat of the closest Orschan. The creature’s blood splattered body slumped lifeless against the tree. I slung my bow over my back and flexed my fingers in anticipation

The other Orschans turned to me in anger and confusion, but the summoned flame that gushed from my hands made short work of them. I drew my sword to deal with the last Orschan standing. He leapt at me, swinging his axe, but I sidestepped the clumsy attack and opened a gash down his leg. The boy leapt towards the injured Orschan, stabbing his knife into the brute’s back. I slashed my sword across the Orschan’s throat, finishing him off.

The boy grabbed his knife and backed away from me, trembling. I held up my hands, palms facing out.

I mean you no harm, I said to the boy in Goriinchian. He did not respond, merely blinking at me in fear. His eyes were violet, quite the contrast to his unremarkable brown hair.

Are you not Goriinchian? I asked. Still no response. I tried Emparian. I mean you no harm. Why do you fear me?

You speak Emparian? the boy said. You are not one of these mercenaries then.

Of course not, I said. But is that how you greet me? I just saved your life.

Thank you, the boy said. But why? Who are you?

I shrugged. We share a common foe. I am Aelzandar. What is your name?

Alu, the boy said with haste. His eyes darted back and forth. Are you an elf?

Yes, I said. Though we prefer to be called Eldara.

Oh, Alu said. He seemed distracted.

What’s wrong?

Alu looked at me with a frown. The Orschans have my father. Can you help?

I hesitated. I had other tasks to do, tasks that did not involve chasing after some boy’s kidnapped father. But the boy stared at me, his purple eyes imploring me to help him.

I sighed. Where are these Orschans?

Alu’s face relaxed. To the west, not far.

Then let us go and see what we can do, I said. And with haste. I must return here as soon as I am able.

Alu nodded, and took off through the trees, quicker than I expected. It was all I could do to keep up with him as he darted through unseen paths and scampered over hidden ridges. We crested a steep hill and gained a vantage point to the valley below where the Orschan camp was – an ugly collection of tents clinging to the dirt below like noxious weeds.

I see Orschans,’ I said. Do you know where your father is?"

He pointed to the centre of the camp where several Orschans stood guard over a crude metal cage. A man sat inside, slumped against the wall of the cage, too distant for me to make out his face.

He seems well-guarded.

They caught up with us, killed most of the others and captured my father. Alu scratched his arm. I was lucky to escape.

Yes, I said, eyeing the boy. Very lucky. Something here didn’t add up.

"Aelzandar? Where are you?" Cassian’s voice echoed in my head. I pushed it away. I needed to focus on the matter at hand.

I watched the Orschans pace about their camp. They were a people perceived by most to be little more than savage beasts, and even I had to admit that they looked the part, with their huge builds, their green-grey skin, flat noses and protruding canines. But I had seen enough in my hundred years to know that it was not what was on the outside that defined most monsters, but rather what sat beneath the skin.

One of the Orschans, a particularly large and fierce-looking individual turned towards us, sniffing the air. I knew that Orschans had a particularly well-developed sense of smell, but could he detect us from this far away?

My question was answered as the Orschan pointed and call out to his comrades. Their shouts joined his and soon the entire camp was abuzz. Orschans scattered looking for weapons, and some scrambled for their bows. There wasn’t a moment to lose.

Stay back, Alu, I said. You need to get behind me.

The boy nodded and pulled behind me. I swept both hands in the air around me and flung them