Trouble on the Borderlands

By Kenneth McDonald

A year after hunting the towers of Khormur-Dhain, Ethan, Bella, and Selenna have given up the adventuring life and each gone their separate ways. But the past will not let them be, and when Selenna is assigned a difficult mission into the conflicted borderland region where she was born, Ethan and Bella are drawn after her into a mystery that could ultimately lead to a clash between the human kingdom of Arresh and the elvish kingdom of Tal Nadesh. The three companions and their new allies must uncover a hidden threat and the secret of an ancient magic they’d thought behind them, before it consumes the fragile peace within the Widash Valley.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth McDonald
• Release date: Feb 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005011758

Kenneth McDonald

I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

Book preview

Forgotten Lore

Trouble on the Borderlands

Kenneth McDonald

[e-mail]

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2021 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: The cover image is adapted from Lower Yellowstone Range, by Thomas Moran (1874). The image is in the public domain.

* * * * *

Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

Forgotten Lore

First Series

Secrets of a Lost Age

Warriors of Shadow

The Shattered Key

Mysteries of the Book

Second Series

The Road to Ironbridge

The Towers of Khormur-Dhain

Trouble on the Borderlands

The Horror in the Wood

The Graves Crew

The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

The Graves Crew and the Mountain Fortress

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Balance of Power

Legacy of the Bulrazi

Power Play

Power Game

Soul Weapons

Wizard’s Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard’s Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Dwarf on the Mountain

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

Silent Gray Depths

The Colors of Fate, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm’s War

Grimm’s Loss

Grimm’s Love

Of Blood and Magic

Of Steel and Sorcery

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran’s Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

* * * * *

Chapter 1

Selenna sat alone in the bare chamber, her legs folded under her. The stone floor was hard and cold, and the room itself had a chill that her light robe would not defeat, but she paid no heed to the discomfort of her surroundings. Her eyes were half closed, her deep green eyes focused on a point somewhere beyond the walls. Occasionally her lips would move slightly, though the only sound was the occasional soft sound of chanting taking place somewhere else within the building.

Her golden hair fell around her head in a disordered tangle, but even that disarray couldn’t detract from the perfect blend of elvish and human features. Many had called her beautiful, but she found that mostly annoying, since it drew unwanted attention. Bella had told her that beauty made it easier to get through life, but Selenna’s experience had taught her that it was definitely a mixed blessing.

The thought of her friend caused her to stir slightly from her meditative trance. She hadn’t seen Bella in months, and only infrequently since they had returned from the frontier. It was hard to believe that it had been over a year already. The days had a way of blending together here at the monastery, but she was in no hurry to leave the shelter of these walls and rejoin the world.

With an effort she schooled her thoughts back to order, and cast within herself. She slowly lifted a hand and took hold of the polished wooden disk that hung from a slender chain around her neck. A sigil of an eight-pointed star had been burned into the surface. It was a new symbol; her old one was with the rest of her possessions, stored in a cubby near the monastery’s main exit.

She closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath, held it for a count of six, released it. As she did, the amulet began to glow. The light around her grew dim, the candles that lit the vault fading until it looked like they were burning within a dense fog. After a few moments a new brightness began to emerge, a cerulean glow that filled the space above the priestess. Motes of sparkling light appeared within that fastness. The stone ceiling was still there, but someone entering the chamber at that moment might have believed that they were looking up at the night sky, despite the fact that the day was only just beginning.

Within her focus, Selenna smiled.

But something quickly appeared to disturb her meditation. The footsteps were soft at first—most of the monks and priests and the monastery wore slippers when they wore any footwear at all—but quickly grew louder and more insistent. Selenna knew that she was the only one in this part of the monastery—she’d sought out solitude on purpose—and with a sigh of regret let her grasp upon the magic she’d conjured go. The artificial twilight faded just as another robed figure stepped into the vault.

Apologies, Seeker, the young man said. He was one of the newer acolytes, still caught in the gangly awkwardness of adolescence. His robe swished around thin arms and legs as he moved. There is someone here who wishes to speak to you.

Very well, Kenet, she said. She rose smoothly, ignoring the slight twinge from her muscles. The young man swallowed and made an obvious effort not to look at her legs as she adjusted her robe. She suppressed a sigh and gestured for him to lead the way.

Since she was still technically in Retreat, he didn’t try to start a conversation as they walked. She was usually quite gregarious, but recently she’d found it harder to feel the usual connection she had with the other members of her order. Maybe it was these surroundings. She’d never been especially introspective, but the events that had transpired across the river from Ironbridge continued to weigh on her, even after all the time that had passed.

She hadn’t really been paying attention to where they were going, so she was surprised when Kenet took her to the Abbot’s chambers. He gestured toward the door and walked away before she could comment. She realized that she hadn’t asked him who it was who had wanted to see her. She felt a moment’s trepidation when she put her hand on the door, but quickly became irate with herself and pushed it open.

The Abbot’s office was comfortable, though sparse by the standards of the south. A small fire burned in the hearth, while soft wisps of steam rose from the teapot on a tray placed on the edge of the desk. That desk was the Abbot’s one indulgence, a sprawling mahogany construct that would have looked at home in the house of a prosperous merchant or a lesser noble. It was covered by the various letters, report folios, record books, and other accessories needed to run a monastery, but everything was placed just so.

The Abbot wasn’t there, but the room’s single occupant turned from the fire as she came in. He was a man well into middle age, clad in dust-stained traveling clothes that bulged with the mass of armor beneath. A sword with a well-worn hilt hung from his hip. When Selenna saw his face, all she could do for a moment was stare, her jaw hanging loose. Then his lips twisted into a smirk. That familiar gesture released her from her shock, and she stepped forward. Her hands had formed reflexively into fists, and she belatedly realized that one had come up, as if to strike him. With an effort, she let it drop.

Seeker Kaiel, he said.

What do you want, Robert? she hissed.

He lifted an eyebrow. I offered you the honorific, he said.

Well, I guess I don’t see the job of abusing children as being honorable, she said. She walked over to the desk and poured herself a cup of tea, mostly so that she would have something to do with her hands. It took her an effort to keep her hands from shaking, and she hated herself for that.

He stepped over to join her, though he remained just out of reach. Maybe he does think I’ll hit him, Selenna thought. Though it would have been a meaningless gesture; he had a full foot and nearly a hundred pounds on her, not to mention his armor and his training. His beard had gotten some gray in it since she’d last seen him, but even the fact that he could in fact age like a normal person didn’t take away from the effect that she still had on him.

Can you honestly say that your life would have been better without my training? he asked.

I guess we’ll never know, she said.

I understand that you’ve achieved the third valence.

No thanks to you. She put her cup down, perhaps a bit too strongly. She forced herself to take a steadying breath as the tea sloshed out onto the Abbot’s fine desk. When they stopped letting you train acolytes, that was the smartest move the church ever made.

Seeker Kaiel…

That’s not my name. You can show me that much respect, at least.

Now it was his turn to sigh. Very well. Selenna. I am not here to relitigate the events of the past.

What is it you do want? Presumably you didn’t drop in for a social visit.

No. I have an assignment.

Oh, no, she said. I’m not working with you.

His jaw tightened, and she felt a fresh wave of fury at the reflexive flutter that passed through her stomach. I am no longer that child, she thought. But he quickly mastered himself. We may not have the hierarchy of the Sorevans or the Hosrenites, he said. But there are still rules within our order.

Right, she said, walking past him. "That’s your job, isn’t it, Rulebinder."

I’d almost forgotten how unpleasant you can be.

She let out a snort. "That’s rich, coming from you. I can’t imagine you get many Winterfest notes from your former pupils. Not that any of the others were as… difficult as I was, I’m sure."

The muscles of his face clenched a notch tighter. Selenna realized that she’d forgotten the subtle pleasure of getting a rise of out him. This pairing was not my first choice either, he said. But the mission involves your history.

My history?

That is what I said. The elders believe that you… due to your background, and your particular circumstances, are especially suited to this task.

She was suspicious, and her anger hadn’t eased, but the thought of leaving here, of undertaking another task out in the world, awoke something in her that she hadn’t realized she’d buried. She turned toward the fire, using the gesture to give her a moment to gather herself. When she turned back toward him, her features had returned to their usual control. Tell me, she said.

* * *

Ethan had never been anything but a marginal rider, but he had gotten used to the saddle enough that he could enjoy the view as he rode deeper into the lush countryside outside of Severon. The country west of the sprawling city was beautiful, with rolling hills covered with vineyards and orchards, along with hilltop estates and manor houses belonging to the city’s old families. It was not a place that he, an orphan who had been apprenticed to a frontier wizard whose final contribution to magic had been accidentally blowing himself up along with much of his tower, had ever expected to visit. It was hard to believe sometimes that it had happened only two years ago. So much had changed in his life since then. He was still shy of his eighteenth birthday, with the majority of his life still ahead of him.

Now an accomplished wizard in his own right, he did not flinch from the evaluative looks from the travelers and laborers that he passed on the road. His studies at the Apernium had taught him just how far he had left to go, but he was no longer intimidated by that fact. His future was far from assured, but it was much more promising than it had been when he’d left Evensong.

He noted the landmarks that he passed. He didn’t need to check his notes. His memory, already decent, had been sharpened by the Apernium’s training. When he came to a fork in the road next to a mile marker too weathered to read cleanly, he chose the left without hesitation. The road was flanked by trees that shifted slightly in the breeze. It was a glorious spring day, and motes of pollen floated in the air. He had suffered from mild hay fever, but one of the tricks he’d learned was the subtle art of convincing his body not to respond to such minor provocations. The horse let out a snort, and he gave it a sympathetic pat on the neck.

There was another side-path just a bit further on, next to a moss-covered stone wall, and he nudged his horse in that direction. The new road wasn’t as traveled as the one he had left, but it was clearly kept in good condition. His horse’s iron-shod hooves clattered on a wooden bridge that crossed a burbling stream, then the trees fell away and he could see his destination ahead.

The manor house was a sprawling edifice, perched atop a low hill covered by grapevines. He could only see the upper story over the surrounding wall, but what he could see looked impressive. As the road began to curve up the near side of the hill his nostrils were filled with a sweet smell and he could hear bees buzzing around the flowering bushes that flanked the route. Men were working in the vineyards, but other than a quick glance his way paid him no attention. The morning sunlight blazed like fire on the glass in the windows of the house, making it impossible to see if anyone was monitoring his arrival.

The gates at the top of the climb were open, and he rode into a spacious courtyard with a paved approach to the main entrance of the estate. A portico supported by half a dozen decorative marble pillars sheltered the entry from the sun, flanked by gardens that bloomed in a riot of color. A year ago, Ethan would have been impressed, even intimidated, but he’d spent a great deal of time in the Silver Tower in Severon, and had gotten used to opulence. But he noted that while the place looked prosperous, the décor was understated enough to be tasteful. Nothing he saw crossed the invisible line into gauche, a mistake that even some of the older families made.

As he rode up to the entry a pair of young men dressed in the matching livery of servants emerged from the foyer to greet him. One gave him an evaluative look, noting the quality of his garments and his mount before saying, Good morning, sir. Welcome to Greenhollow Estate. What can we do for you this day?

I am looking for Lady Jonfleur, the younger, Ethan said.

And is the Lady expecting your visit, sir?

She is not.

Very well. I would be happy to announce you, Master…

Before Ethan could answer, they were interrupted by the sharp clip of heeled shoes approaching. The sound was followed by the appearance of a middle-aged woman wearing a silk dress in a light shade of green. Clyvan, why didn’t you announce that we had a visitor? she said, giving Ethan a look that was just as intense as the servant’s had been, but which he guessed noted much more. Some of his teachers had looks like that, looks capable of taking a man’s measure in a moment.

You must be Ethan, she said.

Ethan blinked in surprise, but then he remembered that Bella had an uncle who’d been a member of the Apernium; of course she would recognize his attire. What Bella had told her mother about him was a larger matter. He could now see the family resemblance, though it was less her looks and more the calm confidence with which she carried herself that he recognized.

Ah, yes, Lady Jonfleur, he said.

Oh, please, Marafina, she replied. Perhaps… one of my people could take care of your horse?

Ethan flushed slightly. Right. Of course. He dismounted. The maneuver was a bit awkward, but he thankfully avoided catching the hem of his coat on his saddle horn or something equally embarrassing. Honor to your house, he said.

Thank you, Marafina said. Please, won’t you come inside?

He followed her into the house, while the servants led off his horse. Presumably there was a stable nearby, invisible to guests from the front of the house. But those idle musings were cut off as