Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost

By Patrick Bowron

Rantarok has come and gone, and the Realms of Confusion moves to the Forlyne, the Last Cycle of Light. The evil Wizard Scourge fled the war that destroyed the gods and imprisoned the Lords of Light and Darkness. Now the wizard moves to pull the threads of his own diabolical devices. Time is running short. Will there be enough power left in the heritage of the Blood of Rantar to stop the erasure of existence?

Upon the Bridge of Falling Frost closes the story brought forth by The Box of Stories and The Story of Faded Stars. Be part of the journey of The Chronicles of the Ball of Light, read this exciting new book as a sequel or a standalone novel!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick Bowron
• Release date: Jun 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463493236

Patrick Bowron

About the AuthorPatrick lives in Brownsburg, Indiana with his wife, Sarah, and is a stay-at-home Dad to their daughter, Irene. Before this he had an array of time-passing vocations, including high school history teacher, banker, laser engineer, hearing aid technician, car wash supervisor, and library assistant. Pat received his Bachelor’s degree in History from IUPUI in Indianapolis. His hobbies include living and breathing Notre Dame Football, Star Wars, reading Tolkien and other fantasy authors, researching ancient astronaut theories, and the Indianapolis 500. He enjoys spending his time outdoors with his family, including grilling, hiking, kayaking, and captaining his father-in-law’s pontoon boat.Other books by this author available now:Tales of the Mountain KingBook One of the Chronicles of the Ball of Light - The Story of Faded StarsElm: The Tale of the Tree of SleepThe Adventures of Koril Icebane: The Relic of the TombThe Shimmering KnightA Drunk Dwarf Inn ChristmasComing Soon:Book Two of the Chronicles of the Ball of Light - Upon the Bridge of Falling FrostBook Three of the Chronicles of the Ball of Light - LaevindalPrologue to the Chronicles of the Ball of Light- The Box of Stories

Book preview

Prologue

It was the first day of spring. The grass was a deep green, colored beautifully from the heavy falling rains of the week past. The trees were tall and strong, a perfect blend of brown and shading green. High above, the white clouds floated lazily by in the warm sunshine. Flower petals sailed in the air complimented by the laughter of children. It was the first day of spring.

Everything was right in the kingdom of Plantyr. Plantyr, the largest of the Ten Kingdoms had stood the test of time, being the beacon of hope and peace to the smaller lands that lay outside its border. For a thousand years it had known no war. It was a place where the simple farmer and high aristocrat would sit in the same tavern and share rounds of ale. In Plantyr there was a buzz in the air, a growing excitement for the Spring Festival that would take place later in the day. It was the first day of spring.

Above the swaying trees of green and brown, amidst the flowing winds where the white clouds journey, stood Gray Slate. Gray Slate, the castle-city of Plantyr, had weathered the wars of the ancient past. She was bright and beautiful adorning the morning sun like a cloak fluttering behind a charging knight in his shimmering silver armor. She was the home of thousands, and on this morning her streets were filled with vendors and buyers alike all preparing for the excitement of the day. It was the first day of spring.

Tall were Gray Slate’s towers. They streamed from her like fingers reaching for the heavens. Tall pinnacles of strength and beauty alike, they stood firm in the dawn’s light, their banners of many colors flapping wildly in the morning wind. Their inhabitants were the wealthy and powerful alike. The decisions made in those towers affected the thousands that lived under the King’s banner in Plantyr. Of all those moving within the towers, none were more important than a young woman planning her attire for the festival on this day. It was the first day of spring.

Princess Delsha paced her tower chamber. Delsha’s eyes took in the outfits of blue, yellow, and green lying upon her bed. Her maid held up dress after dress, only to have the princess shake her head. The maid sighed knowing her mistress would continue this for another hour at the least. The choice of the princess was very important. It was the first day of spring.

In the highest tower of Grey Slate sat an old man. His eyes were black and sharp, his beard fluffy and white. He sat on a great chair wrought with silver and sapphires facing a window that looked out to the sky. A smile and a beam of light slid across the old King’s face. It was the first day of spring.

Two men entered the King’s chamber, one was young, and the other was old. They were dressed in similar fashion, colorful robes of red and blue. Their eyes were bright and full of wisdom. They were the King’s bodyguards, his wizards, and they carried with them their staffs of ashen wood. They bowed before their King and bent to speak into his ear. It was the first day of spring.

Faraway, on a distant road walked a man. The trees of the forest formed an arched canopy above him, and sheltered him from the growing heat of the day. The gravel of the road crunched beneath his boots, and kicked pebbles slid across rocks with the sound of gems being poured into a velvet purse. He was cloaked and hooded in black and he brought with him the thunder and the storm. It was the first day of spring.

Chapter 1: Water and Soap

Loud splashes of water and echoing cries of laughter rang out of the royal washroom. Princess Delsha and her maid Lacy were preparing for the festival. Lacy handed the princess a large cake of yellow soap as she soaked in the tub’s large basin. Lacy smiled as she gently poured water from a vase to rinse Delsha’s hair.

My Lady, you will look so beautiful for tonight’s festival, Lacy said, a smile still bright upon her round face. You truly will be the spring flower, a tulip if I may add, Lacy chuckled. All the suitors will be pulling out their finest tricks to win your heart.

Princess Delsha laughed merrily at this. Her thin figure had blossomed over the past year turning her into a young woman that would attract a man’s eye. She had also reached her fifteenth year, the age in Plantyr when one could marry. Yes, she would be center of attention during the night’s Spring Festival.

Do you really think I will meet my prince tonight, Lacy? Delsha asked waiting anxiously, hoping she would hear the answer her heart so desperately needed to hear.

Oh yes, My Lady, there’s no doubt in my mind. He will show up and sweep you off your feet, and together you will live long with a life filled of love.

At this, Delsha’s heart soared. Silence ensued for a few moments while Delsha slipped into a fantasy filled with love and romance. Lacy continued to rinse the hair of the princess. Delsha scrubbed a little while longer with her soap, and then used a soft cloth to cleanse her body.

I think that I am clean now, Lacy, Delsha said.

Alright your highness let me get your towels and your robe, Lacy said as she hurried over to a stool and gathered the items off of it.

She returned as the princess rose from the water, sending much of it spilling out onto the tiled floor littered with petals of flowers. With the towel Lacy dabbed much of the wetness from Delsha’s body. She then slipped the robe upon the fresh and clean body of the young woman and helped her step out of the washbasin.

Lacy led the princess away from the tub into her bedroom chamber, where in front of a mirror lined in gold, Lacy combed the princess’s long brown hair, while Delsha spoke incoherently of love.

Can you imagine it, Lacy? Me before all of the young aristocrats and barons dressed like a spring flower. I will curtsy and they will bow, and I will take turns dancing with them all. We’ll twirl and twirl to the sound of chimes and flutes and they’ll tell me how lovely I am, and I will thank them, and they will ask for my hand, every last one of them! Oh, how joyous it all will be tonight!

The handmaiden smiled, hoping all the dreams of the young princess would come true. Lacy interrupted Delsha to ask her what fragrance she wished to wear for the evening. Delsha forgot her daydreams of dance and song, being presented with a much more important matter.

Well, let’s see, Delsha started, bringing a thin and delicate finger to her brow in concentrated thought.

The tulip fragrance I enjoy so much. It reminds me of sitting under the trees in father’s garden during a mid-summer’s morning, but oh the rose fragrance will go so much better with my gown, it being green with the red sash. Oh, this is going to be the best Spring Festival ever, Lacy!

Lacy continued to comb the tangles and water from the hair of the princess. When the hair dried, Lacy curled the long strands of brown waves and formed bun upon her head. Tears leaked from corners of Delsha’s emerald eyes down upon her soft pale cheeks at the sight of her own beauty. Lacy then peeled rose petals from the fresh flowers adorning Delsha’s chamber chest and placed them in a small crystal dish. She poured a small amount of oil and water over the red petals and with a brush swirled the concoction until the oil was thick with the smell of roses.

Lacy removed the princess’ robe and used the brush to spread the fragrant smell of roses completely over Delsha’s body. Delsha giggled and blushed.

Lacy, it tickles! Delsha said through a shiver and a smile. Lacy smiled back and continued her work.

There was a knock at the door and Lacy made shooing gestures. Hurry! Get out of sight!

Delsha ran wildly across her bedroom chamber into the washroom. Lacy went to the door and opened it revealing a tall lanky adolescent boy of fourteen. The boy was pale with red hair and freckles. As Lacy snatched open the door the boy quickly tried to hide the fact that his index finger had previously been in his nose.

Lacy ignored this fact and asked in a very annoyed voice, What do you want, Jameson? The princess is in the middle of some very important decisions. Do you know that tonight is the Spring Festival? She must be properly prepared. This may be the night when she finds her true love, the future king of Grey Slate. Now state your business and be gone with you! Lacy finished and crossed her arms to dot the exclamation point.

Jameson looked in the state of true terror. His eyes rolled in their sockets examining what his mind showed as a dire badger that must had opened the door. He scratched his hair and looked down the corridor for a means of an escape. Before he had a chance to move he was cut off.

Speak! Lacy roared at the poor runner. And out in a jumble came the boy’s message.

Lady Conabont, I carry a message from the King requesting Her Highness, the Princess Delsha’s presence. The boy gave a far too late bow after saying the princess’ royal name. I am also to take note of when Her Highness will be able to attend the King in his Royal Chambers.

Lacy tapping her foot looked toward the washroom where Delsha had taken cover from the opened door. After deep thought and a likewise breath, Lacy turned back to Jameson. Within the hour. Jameson started to relay his thanks but the door slammed closed in his face during mid sentence.

Come out, Delsha, Lacy called in now a sweet patient voice. We must be ready to present you to your father before the hour’s end. Delsha came out in a hurry, a flurry of words in her wake.

Oh, that was that fidgety little boy Jameson, wasn’t it? I don’t quite understand why father keeps him around. He will never be a knight, so lanky and goofy. Not at all a gentleman or even nice to look at. I will never understand father, he says that he is smart. I might even bring up Jameson’s dismissal when I see father, Delsha said as if it were the most intelligent idea that ever fluttered up into her mind.

Let’s forget about Jameson, Lacy said with a sweet smile impressed upon her face. We have much to do to get you ready. Your father will just be dazzled when he sees you. You may even be able to distract Ghent and Falgar from whatever it is that wizards do, Lacy said as she concentrated heavily on Delsha’s hair. She then smiled in triumph. My Lady, I think its time to get dressed.

Chapter 2: Father and Daughter

The midmorning wind blew its breath gently over the parapets and towers of the castle Gray Slate. A young man with a face chiseled from stone stood looking to the east from a balcony high above the bustling city below. The wind gently caressed his thick brown hair and caused him to slightly squint his emerald eyes. He turned his head as a much older man joined him.

The older man’s hair was mostly gone, and that which was left was like white cloud. His skin was wrinkled from the long passing of years, but the power that resided in him was much more than a match for the younger man whose presence already occupied the balcony. The younger man turned and at the sight of the older man respectfully bowed his head and said reverently, Master.

Ghent. The old man said with a smile. Such a lovely morning for such a lovely day. Ghent smiled and turned his face back into the wind. Both men were dressed identically. They wore a robed suit of blue trimmed with red with a long thick hood, and each carried in their hand a staff of thick old wood.

Did you try any of old Marla’s bacon and eggs this morning, Falgar? Ghent asked.

No, I had her portage, and a little more than that too, lad. Falgar said with a youthful mischievous smile.

Ghent laughed hard. You old dog, married forty years and you two still run around like youths on Spring Festival. Or are you two reliving some memory of this day forty years past? Ghent asked, his eyebrows rising in mock accusation.

Lots of memories, boy, lots of Spring Festivals, every one a good one, Falgar said taking in a deep fresh breath of the morning’s chilly air. The King is anxious today, Falgar said switching topics and mood.

Ghent turned to face his old master intent on his words, playfulness gone. Delsha’s come of age. She is youthful, but between you and me not the brightest lass ever to carry a royal title. The King worries that she seeks too frantically for love. He worries whom she will choose to continue the royal line, Falgar said, his eyes never leaving Ghent’s.

It is her choice, Ghent said. Besides there are many fine choices out there. Look at the Baron Vard’s son, Vlalatice, an excellent soldier and honorable man. Many women also consider Vlalatice very handsome. There is also Duke Hector’s son, Flinn, an excellent tactician.

Falgar shook his head. This lass isn’t interested in tacticians or honor. She wants love and that is the line that is causing the King worry. Falgar ran his hand across his cheek and chin. Is security for the princess prepared for the night? Asked Falgar.

Ghent gave a short nod of his head and twisted his staff in his hand. Yes. Lord Tovit has ensured me his troops have secured the area. The Blaze Knights will accompany her throughout the evening.

Falgar wrinkled his brow. I am sure we will have our duty here. The King didn’t seem very up to dancing and celebrating.

He is worried about the future of his kingdom, Ghent replied. Plantyr has stood as a bastion of peace for a thousand years. He does not want anything to happen that may jeopardize that. Besides haven’t you had enough fun already today? Ghent teased.

The old wizard laughed gruffly. What are you going to do when I’m gone, boy? Falgar asked.

Ghent shook his head. I don’t know? I figure when something strong enough comes to take you it will probably take me too.

Falgar took a long quiet look into the blue depths of the spring sky. The sun had shadowed itself behind a large puffy white cloud, disguising itself in a solo game of pica-boo. The wind dropped its dance and all was calm and at peace. Falgar placed his old, but strong hand on Ghent’s shoulder.

The King is waiting for us, son. He wants us present when the princess arrives.

Are we to be a show of force to his own daughter? Ghent asked.

Falgar smiled, this time with no niceties, the kingdom of Plantyr must remain with a balance of strength and peace if we are to continue with the present stability. She must know her place. The desires of her heart are forfeit when compared to the responsibility she will govern when ruling those of this land.

That is true, Ghent said. But, she is so young.

And foolish, Falgar added. Those traits must be washed away from her. They should have been worked on years ago, but the King wouldn’t allow it. Now he may be regretting his decision of not giving her a stricter upbringing. She will begin her understanding today, like it or not, Falgar said, his face stern.

It is time to go lad, Falgar said as he turned.

The two wizards walked off the balcony into a narrow hallway of smooth stone and marble. The heavy soles of their boots resonated a deep echo throughout the passageway. Jameson, the messenger boy rushed passed a cross section of the corridor just ahead of the wizards. Falgar smiled and Ghent shook his head and laughed with a curse. That fool boy going to run himself into a wall one day and that will be his end, Ghent said.

Don’t be too quick to judge the lad, Ghent. I seem to remember another boy about his age once dashing about and tripping over his own knickers.

Ghent’s face reddened. Can we not revisit the past, master? Ghent asked embarrassedly.

Ghent, I have trained you into a fine wizard. I cannot even think of a challenge that you wouldn’t be more the match of. The redness fell away from Ghent’s face and was replaced with pride.

They turned right when they reached the cross section in the corridor following the route Jameson had taken. The hallway began to change. Leaving the plainness of the smooth stonework to the working of artisans. Worked within the walls were great deeds of Plantyr’s past. There were displays of gallantry and battle, and ruinous paths that led to the dark times in the kingdom’s history.

One scene depicted Korlan Marl and Norlan Lanfern, heroes of the ages, as they fought their way through the depths of the Temple of Dark Shadows to retrieve Terrin De Del Lutinii, the Goblet of Starlight. There was a painting of castle Gray Slate in its days of war against Faluvad and his dreaded Bull Witches. Times of wonder also made their presence. Beautifully adorned in gems were the Trees of Silver Light that stand on the edges of the world.

The wizards let these murals of history slide past without notice. They continued their march until they reached a grand door of oak lined in silver. At either side of the door stood a Blaze Knight, the elite warriors of Plantyr. Their shining silver armor was laced with images of red flame, which gave them their name. The two guards nodded at the wizards’ approach and threw open the door for them. The wizards swept through quickly. The boom of the closed door echoed out behind them.

Morlen Dhargin, King of Plantyr and ruler of Grey Slate, sat tall on his throne made of silver and sapphires. His sharp black eyes watched intensely as he received his morning report from Lord Tovit, commander of the Blaze Knights. The King ran a wrinkled hand through the thick tangles of his white beard.

From the open terraces the wind swept in carrying the morning with it. Birds sang from nests nestled in the cracks of the battlements, and the sunlight streamed in bringing its brilliance. King Morlen turned his head, facing his attention to the two men who had just entered his chamber. He smiled warmly at his two wizards, and they replied with smiles even warmer. Words floated out of the Lord Commander’s mouth, one word particular caused the old King’s ears to twitch, and the word was princess.

Lord Tovit, repeat that last thing you said, the thing about my daughter, the King said.

My King, I said she will be perfectly safe. Her protection will be my finest men, Lord Tovit said with absolute confidence.

Excellent, my old friend, the King replied. Now, if you will excuse us I have much to discuss with the Protectors of the Throne, the King said using the proper title for the wizards at hand.

Of course, My King, Lord Tovit said while bowing reverently. I will make sure everything is in order for tonight.

Lord Tovit swiveled around, his red cape shifting like a whirlwind behind him and strode for the door. His armor burned bright like fire when it caught beams from the sun entering from a window. The Lord Commander strode by the wizards of the King and in a swift motion saluted them and gave them a respectful bow of the head. The wizards returned the respect and the salute and then the Lord Commander was through the door, the loud echo marking the absence of his presence.

King Morlen smiled brightly and rose from his throne to greet his protectors. Thank you for coming so quickly, I’m sure Falgar that you did not have too much trouble locating Ghent on such a lovely morning such as this.

The two wizards smiled and came to halt a few feet before the King. They then in unison went to one knee bowing before their lord. The King asked them to rise and they did and proceeded to take turn clasping each other’s hands.

My King, we wait on your beckoning call, what is it that you desire from us this morning? Asked Falgar.

The King smiled a sad worried knowing smile. Ah, my Protector plays ignorance, King Morlen said playfully. You know why you have been called Falgar, and I am sure you have informed Ghent as well. We have reached a crossroads, I have failed to bear a son and now the kingdom of Plantyr rests on the heart of a young woman who cares or understands nothing of the politics of ruling, King Morlen said.

Surely her decision will not be too rightfully out of favor, My King. Ghent interrupted. There are many fine choices to be had.

And just as many rotten ones too, the King retorted. Besides my young Protector, she knows of those that we wish for her. Knowing that she will look for other alternatives. She is young and that is the way of youth.

Falgar nodded his head. Pray she does not take a liking to Baron U’tanga’s son. A dangerous one he is, with the power of king he would mobilize every able body male and sweep forth, leaving a wake of carnage of everything in his path that did not submit.

And probably those that did too, Ghent added.

Distress creased across the king’s brow. Then what should we do if she makes the wrong choice? King Morlen asked.

My King, who is to say that she will even make her choice tonight? Ghent asked.

Falgar looked at his pupil and long time friend. Ghent, my friend, she has been waiting for this night for years. She expects to find a great love tonight, and even if she does not find one, it is more than likely that she will fabricate it.

Ghent slowly nodded his head. You are right master.

Then what do we do? The King asked.

We must be patient. We must ride the night out and pay close heed to what she speaks of on the morrow. This is the only path open to us. We will make the decision on what to do when the time comes, Falgar finished as the hall’s grand door boomed open.

In came Princess Delsha, her hair weaved with flowers. In came Princess Delsha with a smile that rivaled the stars’ glow. In came Princess Delsha bouncing joyously up to her father. She swirled about when she reached him laughing with glee as her dress spun up to her knees. She giggled again and smoothed her dress down, knowing it improper for a High Lady of noble blood to reveal so much of herself.

The Protectors of the Throne bowed at her presence, but stern looks marked their faces, while glee danced upon her face. The King smiled and embraced her in his arms. He commented on her beauty and the ribbons that laced her hair. She knew not that they had spoken ill of her just moments before.

Father! Princess Delsha exclaimed, isn’t it wonderful? Today is Spring Festival. I can’t wait, father. Tonight will be the most wonderful night of my life. I am going to find my prince, and I’m going to love him and he’s going to love me and he will be so brave and forever we will be together and happy always, like in the stories. Delsha said in one breath. She was left gasping for air.

The gazes of the Protectors of the Throne grew grimmer and the King’s smile faltered, replaced by a sad frown.

My dear, the King started. My dear, there are things that must be made clear to you. One is that I wish for you to have a joyous night. It is Spring Festival, a time for dancing and singing and rejoicing of the coming of the New Year. It is also your coming of age, a special time for any young woman, and more important for the daughter of the King. The voice of the King remained kindly as he changed topics to drive his point home.

But my beautiful one, you must understand that love for anyone is difficult. It is an important event in anyone’s life, be they man or woman, but love cannot be planned. Nor should it be rushed. Though some say love is blind, and others say that it is the most important aspect in a person’s life, that does not always hold true to those of royalty, King Morlen said as he watched the expression on his daughter’s face slip from happiness to a scowl.

What are you speaking about, father? The words drawled out from the princess’ mouth.

I am saying, my lovely Delsha, that your love should not be cast out in haste, nor should it be misplaced. When I am gone the one you choose will lead the kingdom. He must be an able leader, and just and wise and follow the path, which is right for not only those of Plantyr, but those of all the lands.

You can’t do this to me! Delsha cried out. Her arm flung out in a wide arc pointing out the windows to the city far below. "My prince is waiting for me. He will be here tonight ready to accept my love, and we will be happy. Do you not care about my happiness, father? Why do you speak such things to me? It is my coming of age and you are trying to ruin