Trouble in the Elf City

Trouble in the Elf City

The Silent Warrior Trilogy - Book Two

Second Edition

Anna del C. Dye

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described here are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.

Trouble in the Elf City

Second Edition – Revised and Enhanced

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2014 Anna del C. Dye

V2.0 — Second Edition

Cover Art by Lois Moore

Illustrations by Carlos Cruz

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

www.annadelc.com

ISBN 13: 978-1499301274

ISBN 10: 1499301278

All Rights Reserved USA

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Books by Anna del C. Dye:

The Silent Warrior Trilogy:

The Elf and the Princess

Trouble in the Elf City

Elfs in a Conquered Realm

Curse of the Elfs

A Royal Elf of Abalon

Shahira & the Flying Elfs

The Roilden Stones of Elf Mountain

And available only as an e-book:

Emerine’s Nightmare

To Achieve Peace, War is

Oftentimes Inevitable

It all began with The Elf and the Princess. Now, Anna del C. Dye returns with even more medieval adventure in the highly anticipated follow-up...

Three years have passed since the Orks and Tahitans destroyed the proud kingdom of Menarm, and the Silent Warrior hasn’t been seen since. Adren, the land’s last princess, has settled comfortably into her new life as wife to the powerful Dellin in the kingdom of Lothia. But all is not well. When a mysterious enemy shatters their peace, an enemy the elfs appear powerless to fight, complete annihilation seems imminent. Will Adren witness the destruction of yet another kingdom and once again find herself alone in the world? Or can the Silent Warrior come to her rescue and save them all?

Inspired by the great tradition of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, Anna del C. Dye’s Trouble in the Elf City is chock full of warfare, romance and swordplay while offering a highly original tale of adventure. Enter the lushly detailed fantasy world of elfs and men in Book Two of The Silent Warrior Trilogy.

… my attention was glued to the pages of this book. Not thinking it possible, Anna del C. Dye did an even better job with this one… The description of the fighting is amazing, the characters are heroic and the ending is wonderful. She does such a great job at creating Elvin characters that are so noble, honest and caring, that I can’t help but wish I lived among them! … Not only is it a great story … but it is also a teaching tool.

--Front Street Reviews

This book is a tribute to my immediate and extended family who encouraged me to set pen to my imagination, to Shauna Dansie and my beloved who take time to edit my works, and to Dad and Monica who are my head cheerleaders.

Also, my thanks goes out to my artist, Carlos Cruz. A special mention goes to Michael Ricks and Travis Emery, my medieval swordsmanship teachers.

I dedicate this book to all of you that enjoy sharing my imagination.

Chapter One

Newsworthy

In a faraway land, menaced by the fury of the sea, a desperate cry pierced the dark and windy night.

No, no, noooo, a woman lamented in the distance.

The scene was illuminated only by the flashes of light that appeared intermittently in the sky.

Another death tonight, moaned Jalmar, their leader.

The woman’s cries were cut off by the noise of the upcoming storm. Jalmar’s skin shone darker in the flashes, but his brown eyes were directed toward the window of the hut he occupied a few doors from the new corpse. He turned slowly, his eyes down for he didn’t want to face the rest of the men in his home.

We’re trapped ’ere, one of them cried. This place’ll kill us all.

The somber group of men with him scowled even deeper. It was late at night and the oncoming storm was a depiction of their sufferings.

The noise of the sea waves that broke on the shores, mixed with the thunder, did nothing to drown the agony of the mother’s cries.

When dey doomed us ta dis forsaken place we’re 50,000 strong, now we’ve less then half thet numba, another lamented.

The man looked at the silhouette of the tall palm trees that swayed furiously with the unseen hand of the wind.

Ur wimmen and brood are dyin’ and we canna’ stop them, exclaimed the man who had spoken first. His words were echoed by loud thunder that made the dirt floor of the hut tremble.

None ob de wimmen heve hed a kid fur three years, mumbled another man. He too stared through the wind that whipped his clothes at the open door. ’Fore we came ’ere, we had ’em every yea’.

De eldas, de sick und younguns are droppin’ dead, like flies from de sky, added a forth one. His eyes focused on the shadows spreading on the sand.

We gotta do sometin’ or we’ll all die, exclaimed yet a fifth man. This man paced about the shack made of palm trees, like a mother attempting to appease her crying baby.

I know! I know! despaired Jalmar. His fist slammed the table he sat at. His words were almost drowned out by the sound of thunder in the distance. But what? We’re trapped ’ere, jest like ya sed. If ya have an idea, tell me.

He stared at their dark faces, for this was not the first time they had had this conversation in the last three years.

After they had let go of some steam, Jalmar sent the men back to their own huts to wait out the deluge that fell for the rest of the night.

Early the next morning, Jalmar half-heard his name, from somewhere deep in his sleep.

What’s up? he asked, too softly for anyone outside of his hut to hear him.

Jalmar, get up, the voice repeated louder, as a fist pounded on the bamboo door to his hut so hard that it threatened to fall in. Come ’nd see what de ocean’s give us.

The words chased the sleep from him, and he stumbled into his pants on the way to the door.

What’s da racket? he demanded grumpily. His hand shaded his eyes against the early sun, the salty smell of the sea penetrating his nose.

De beach, come ’nd see, blurted the boisterous man in front of him.

Jalmar stared at him for a moment and then moved off. The others followed, equally excited.

He glanced upon the undulating waves, with his eyes wide open, and asked in disbelief, Is det wha’ I think it is?

Yep, the other man’s bald head glistened in the sun, sho’ is.

Elsewhere, in the middle of a quiet wintry night in Renil, the dark streets glistened, wet and deserted. Ominous clouds that obscured all but a few stars still remained from an earlier storm.

In an isolated room on the second floor of the castle, the chimney fire gave no comfort to its weary and concerned occupant. Paletin paced about with a worried countenance.

Why does it takes so long, something must be wrong, he wondered for the twelfth time.

The tall man with blue-green eyes was used to loneliness, for he had traveled long and wide. Nevertheless, the murmur of his voice did little to calm his heart this time. Paletin was the king of Renil, in the northern part of Andoriah, but tonight he was just a man, and one very unaccustomed to the current situation.

I wish I had some company, he lamented, while the still of the night augmented the insecurity that threatened to creep into his noble heart.

Why has no one come to get me? … Saelia, … are you all right, my love? I need to see you! he cried.

He stopped so suddenly that his black hair caressed his proud shoulders on its way to his back. He turned to stare at the closed door as if his mere desire would allow him to penetrate it.

He had already tried this, in fact a couple of times, and each time the results had been the same. He sat heavily on a nearby chair to cradle his head in his hands.

Suddenly, from the still of the night, a startled cry echoed outside his room.

Saelia!

As if on cue, the king ran through the door and into the next chamber. This time he lent no importance to the consequences.

The lovely Saelia was the elf maiden who had conquered the heart of this Dúnedain King, years before.

What is wrong? he cried to the old maid in that chamber.

All is well, My Lord, she answered, and said no more.

Queen Saelia was a tall woman with happy brown eyes and black silky hair that cascaded down her soft olive-toned shoulders. They had been married for three years now and lived in his kingdom.

Paletin passed the smiling nurse, and strode to Saelia’s bed, Are you all right, My Queen?

Yes, she answered, as she looked at him with tired eyes. We have a boy!

As he embraced her tenderly, the midwife approached to show him the crying bundle in her arms.

Congratulations, Sire, she smiled at the proud king who clumsily took the baby from her.

Are you sure he will not break? King Paletin asked, as he glanced at his heir for the first time.

Very sure, Sire, he came as strong as can be, the nurse replied.

The older woman was very knowledgeable about babies’ births for she had delivered, some said, half of Renil’s infants. That was the reason he had summoned her to take care of his wife and child.

Is he not perfect? asked Saelia, with a hushed voice. She gazed tenderly at her son, who slowly calmed down.

He certainly is, my love. The king moved his eyes not from the baby. Look, he has your ears, he exclaimed. The baby turned to suck his finger and revealed a tiny pointed ear to them.

She smiled lovingly at her king as she took the baby from him.

What will his name be? Paletin asked suddenly.

I wonder if you like Raiden?

Raiden. He savored the sound of it. Raiden, son of Paletin from Renil. I think I do like it.

Then, that is what his name will be, his wife announced.

Do you think your father would approve? he pondered aloud.