Sons of Ironstorm - Book 3: New Alliance

Chapter 19: To the Dark Wood

"It is a tangled mass, writhing roots and grasping boughs.

A dark and troubled place, from which the howls of lost souls rise.

Home to shadow and unease, the Forest of Gyren is malaise.

Once green and wholesome, now fallen and fey.

It stands as the last evidence of the foulest deeds of men and

magic."

- from druidic writings describing the Gyren Forest

<<So the Redeemed think they will save both Uepolua and the humans of the Hammer Peninsula, eh?>> Fenoran asked, his tone dry as he scanned over a copy of Shawn's battle plan obtained via the Aeshin'laur council liaison with the Redeemed command. Several paces away, already in his Redeemed blue, Feladorn was silent as he stuffed an extra tunic into his pack, his sword and war tack already neatly stacked beside it.

Swiftly noting his son's lack of response, the lean Lusinoran monarch looked up from the scroll he was perusing to look at his second born with a frown.

<<So confident in the Lord Wielder and the Redeemed, you rush back to war, my boy? Have you not served him and the Redeemed well enough? You've nothing left to prove, to him or to anyone else. I already know what kind of warrior you are.>>

The young Lusinoran prince glanced over his shoulder at that, to where his father stood leaned up against a wall.

<<You've never showed reluctance in letting me go to war before, father,>> he pointed out as he straightened up, letting his back pack's closing flap fall from his hands.

<<Why now? Do you have some unease about the Redeemed and their capabilities? Or some failure of trust in the Lord Wielder?>>

<<No,>> the king of Lusinor curtly replied, his face hardening with his son's quick questions. <<The alliance stands or falls on the strength of its members. If we're to erect a unified front to face the Return, we need the humans strong and unfettered by dark soldiers.>>

<<Then why do you question me? I am a general in the Redeemed military, called by Shawn himself as such.>> Feladorn turned back to his packing, which was almost done. All he needed now was that spare blanket he had on the other side of the pack and then it was to his final briefing with Shawn and the Redeemed command staff.

<<Because a prince of Lusinor should stand by his father's side and learn how to rule a nation, instead of strapping on a sword at every opportunity and running off to war,>> Fenoran retorted with a growl, earning himself a snort from his second eldest son.

<<Let Felix learn how to govern, father. He's done well enough in your absence as you've sat on the alliance's governing council. I'm for other things.>>

Fenoran's face tightened even further at the mention of his eldest son. True, Felix had shown more of a head for affairs of state, something Feladorn had steadfastly managed to avoid for most of his life. And, as eldest son and heir to House Gahedra, it naturally fell to him to be the next king upon Fenoran's departure.

Yet Felix wasn't half the warrior his younger brother was, already a general in the Redeemed by title and deed before reaching his twentieth cycle. His eldest was almost sedate, eschewing the martial skills and training for book learning and studying, taking after the nature of his mother in doing so, may she rest in the Maker's peace. Unfortunately it was a trait deadly to elven kings in this day and age of war.