Andalon Awakens: Dreamers of Andalon Book One by T. B. Phillips

Author:T. B. Phillips [Phillips, T. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, Science Fiction, Sci-fi, vikings, pirates
Publisher: Deckplate Publishing
Published: 2019-06-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

The coastline north of Estowen’s Landing curved slightly westward around rocky cliff outcroppings and the occasional tall mountain range. Evergreen spruce and pines reached upward toward the heavens, painting the landscape with dark color that contrasted the pink hues in the rocks. Winter had fully gripped the peninsula this far north, and the tree branches dipped with the heavy wet snow, letting the excess blow off with a wind so icy that it cut to the bone.

Skander Braston ignored this wind as his ship bounced on the choppy waves, having traveled far in a single night. He was already hundreds of miles north of the meeting place, but he could not shake the humiliation of the event. Thinking about the night before made his mind race. He had planned for the exchange perfectly, had the upper hand even. But after Matteas Brohn had killed Crestal Esterling, chaos had ensued, forcing him to flee.

Flee. Such a simple word with intense connotation. The northern king grimaced at the thought that one simple word would brand him forever a coward in the eyes of his enemies. Outnumbered by the arrival of Lady Esterling’s private guard, he had no choice but to run back to his ship empty handed when the fighting broke out. Hester had told him to keep the parlay a secret from even his own generals, so he had traveled with only a small cadre of soldiers and sailors.

The sudden arrival of the Falconer had also startled him, forcing him into panic. Their powers were unworldly, demonic even. Unnatural to the order of the gods. Skander felt another wave of rage rise from his belly, causing his chest to tighten. He was certain that in the bedlam the pirate wench had used similar magic on him and his men, wrapping them in vines and sending spiders to attack them.

He remembered her lunge at him with a knife. She had nearly killed him, and he was lucky that Artur interfered. Something had been oddly familiar about that witch, like he had run across her in his past. Perhaps she had some vendetta against him. He gritted his teeth as he thought about the feeble attempt on his life and her dark magic. The voice of his father returned. Only a coward would fear a woman, Skander.

Skander Braston was the most powerful man in the northern kingdom and he would never allow a woman to hold power over him. Flinching, he thought about Hester resting in luxury in his palace, ordering around his servants and conniving politics behind his back. She played the nobles against each other with her games and was a master in her craft. But, even with her manipulations, he refused to allow her an ounce of control over him.

He often regretted seducing her and taking her for his wife, but always understood that she was the only woman halfway deserving to stand by his side. Although it was true that he had originally only taken interest to slight his brother, she served more purposes to him than to warm his bed.

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