The Trials of Alar E-Book

R. J. Firetail

• Herausgeber: Red Drake Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

For nearly ten years, Alar and his husband have lived blissfully together on their country estate in the heart of Kentros. One morning their happy life is interrupted when a royal messenger asks them to join an honor guard to escort the king to the neighboring realm of Corallia. But all is not as it seems, and the smooth road predicted by most is fraught with danger from the outset when a mysterious entity threatens to use this mission of peace to spark a war. With the fate of two nations hanging in the balance, Alar must once again take up the sword to defend those he loves.

Leseprobe

The Trials

of Alar

R. J. Firetail

OTHER WORKS BY R. J. FIRETAIL:

THE ALAR SAGA

Dedication

For Vertram.

Thanks for all your help.

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text Copyright © 2024 by R. J. Firetail

Cover Art Copyright © 2024 by Sara “Caribou” Miles

Published by Red Drake Books,

an imprint of Ash Tree Media

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Visit ashtreemedia.com

Contents

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

Epilogue

About the Author

Prologue

E

vening’s shadows lengthened in the broadleaf forests of Corallia. A light breeze rustled the budding spring foliage as a solitary figure cloaked in black dashed through the trees. He stopped every so often to look around and sniff the air. He couldn’t risk being followed. Not when things were shaping up the way they were. This was far too important.

He carried on with practiced speed and stealth until he eventually came to a large boulder at the base of a cliff. He cast one final look around, then pressed against the boulder until it rolled to the side, revealing a dark hole just large enough for a gray squirrel like him to slip quickly and noiselessly inside. The boulder fell smoothly back into place behind him.

His eyes were slow to adjust to the blackness of the cavern, but he knew the way, and continued at a brisk pace with his nose for a guide. He followed the passage down as the air became mustier and the walls slimier. After some time the cavern grew lighter, and he could hear low voices. Rounding a massive stalagmite column that glistened with moisture in the dim light, he found two other hooded gray squirrels on either side of him and a dagger at his throat.

“Password,” said one.

“Artiba reigns,” replied the newcomer calmly.

“The chief awaits your report,” said the guard, sheathing his blade.

They proceeded into a larger chamber where the last of the day’s light streamed in through a large hole in the cavern ceiling and reflected off the surface of a calm, clear lake below. They skirted the edge of the lake and came to a sheltered area with a small table and a couple of chairs in it. In one of these chairs sat yet another figure, who looked up as the three came in.

“Report,” he said in a deep, commanding voice.

“It will take place soon,” replied the newcomer. “I just got word from our source that an emissary left for Parras this morning.”

“Then within a month, I should say, our time will come.”

“Aye, sir. Any more orders?”

The chief looked down in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that is all. It is not for us to make the first move this time. It is only for us to wait and see what the future may bring.”

He said no more and dismissed them with a wave of a paw. The three saluted and left at once. Outwardly they displayed the same calmness that they had possessed before, though inside they could not help but feel deeply apprehensive that their fate was no longer in their paws.

1

A

dam looked out the bedroom window and sighed. It was going to be a lovely day, he could tell as he watched the rosy red dawn rise above the trees to the east. The buttercups were beginning to bloom in the pasture to the south as well. He hadn’t seen a spring this beautiful in quite a while. Truly he was a blessed squirrel to live in such a place, and he thanked his creator with a quick but sincere morning prayer.

But his greatest blessing was not the flowers, nor the woods, nor even this well-stocked and maintained house on the hill. Rather, his real treasure was the big, sturdy squirrel who still lay peacefully sleeping in the bed to his right. Alar, his childhood friend and husband of almost ten years, was without doubt the greatest thing to have ever come into his life. It was he who had always been there for him, it was he who had gone on that quest all those years ago from which he had earned both this estate and the wealth to maintain it, and it was he whose love for Adam had never waned. Indeed, if anything, their bond had only grown stronger with the years now behind them. Normally Alar would have been up and about long before now, but he had been so exhausted from the previous day’s labors that he had decided to sleep in a bit. And after all he’d done, Adam could hardly begrudge him that.

The slighter, more gracefully built Adam wrapped his tail around his waist against the slight morning chill as he looked once more over the land they called their own. Yes, it was a grand estate, though it had not always been so. The first couple years had been rough for the two young red squirrels, who had lived their entire lives in an urban slum. Only with great difficulty had they learned the way of the farmer, mostly through trial and painful error. More than one winter they had nearly starved. Had it not been for their youthful constitution and the invaluable advice of their chief hired help, Kendrick, they just might have. But they had come through, as they had with so many hardships before, and were now positively prospering. They even made a modest profit off their yearly harvest by selling their surplus in the market town of Helion to the north.

Yes, they had done very well for themselves. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something missing. Something that would make their toils all the more worthwhile.

Tea would be a good start, he decided. He was just about to go make some when there came a stirring from the bed. Adam watched as Alar stretched his tall, muscular body with the usual grunting and groaning. Suddenly his gaze met that of his mate.

“Up before me, eh?”

“When am I not?” replied Adam with a grin.

“See anything new out there?” Alar continued, sitting up on the edge of the bed and twisting until he heard the satisfying pop of his spine in each direction.

“Nope. Just another perfect day in the offing.”

Sensing the wistful tone in his husband’s voice, Alar asked outright, “Something bothering you, hon?”

“Oh no, of course not. Just haven’t had my proper wake-up tea yet.”

“Well, neither have I, but that doesn’t answer the question. Come on, mate. What’s eating you?”

Adam hesitated. But there was no escaping that questioning look from Alar. The two knew each other too well to hide anything for long. So, heaving another sigh, Adam relented.

“All right, I admit, there is something. But it’s really nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Of course it is,” replied Alar, rising to join him by the window. He kissed him on the cheek and took light hold of his forearms, then looked directly into Adam’s lively green eyes. “If you’re not absolutely happy, then my work’s not done.” He kissed him on the other cheek and gently ran a paw through the fur tuft between his ears.

Adam smiled and placed a paw on Alar’s scarred but still handsome muzzle as he replied, “I never said I was unhappy, my love. How could I be with you around?” He kissed him on the lips to prove his point. “I just think our life could be happier still.”

“How?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking lately how nice it might be to have some young ones around the place.”

“Oh,” said Alar, sounding almost disappointed. “Still on about that, are you?”

“Of course! I’ve always wanted to be a father at some point, you know that. We had to find our feet first, of course, but I think we’ve done that and then some.”

“But everything is perfect as it is. You said so yourself. Why risk it by bringing kits into the mix?”

“Come on, hon,” said Adam, stroking Alar’s whiskers playfully. “I think we’d make great dads. Remember how you used to play with the little street urchins when we were younger?”

Alar shrugged. “That was a long time ago. And I only had to look after them a little now and then; not raise them.”

Adam sighed and rested his paw on Alar’s solid chest. “Such a humbug you’ve become. Where’s that adventurous squirrel I married? The one who wanted nothing more than to see what the wide world was like.”

“But he did want something more,” said Alar, lifting Adam’s paw and kissing it. “And he found it. Now he doesn’t want to do anything to put the precious thing he’s built in danger.”

“You think having kittens would endanger our marriage?” Adam chuckled.

“Well…”

“Oh, stop it, you silly!” Adam gave him a playful shove. “I love you, and I think it’s safe to say that nothing on earth is going to change that.” He threw his arms around Alar, who returned the gesture in kind.

“Oh, Adam,” he sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe a little change would do us both good. But honestly, where would we even start? How would we get young ones even if we wanted them?”

“We could always find some poor orphaned kit to call our own. There’s no shortage of them, as you know. Either that or…” Adam grinned cheekily and leaned in close to Alar’s ear as he whispered. “We could try for some right now, if you’d like.” He pulled back enough to look Alar in the eyes again, giving him a wink and a playful twitch of the tail.

“Aye,” replied Alar with a knowing look. “I reckon we could.”

He gently pushed his husband so that he fell backward onto the bed, then bent down over him. The two were about to kiss again when there came the sound of hooves on the path outside, followed by a rapid knock on the front door.

2

A

lar threw on his shorts and buttoned the fly, then rushed out of the bedroom. Another knock sounded out just as he grabbed the doorknob. I must be getting slower! he thought playfully as he turned it and opened the door to reveal a gray squirrel dressed in the velveteen finery of a Kentroan noble. The signet of an oak sprig with two acorns attached on his ring and corselet showed him to be of the royal court. A cap with a single feather sat upon his head and a smile upon his muzzle. He held the reins of a big brown horse in his left paw.

“Greetings, sir,” he spoke. “Are you Alar, son of Ruskin?”

“I am,” replied Alar as Adam appeared behind him wearing his shorts and a loose cotton tunic.

“Very good, very good. Then I have not gone astray.”

“Who are you, sir?” asked Alar.

“But of course!” The squirrel extended a paw, which Alar shook. “My name is Trellon, and I come on behalf of His Majesty, King Fagan and Her Majesty, Queen Ambrosia bearing a message. Might I come in, sir?”

“Of course,” said Alar, stepping over the threshold. “I’ll take your horse to the barn real quick. My husband Adam will look after you.”

“Splendid,” said the gray, passing the reins to Alar and removing his cap as he stepped inside.

“Right this way, Mister Trellon,” said Adam, conducting him toward the kitchen. “I’ll just put the kettle on.”

Alar led the big horse off to the barn, where he put it in an empty stall and gave it some fodder and water. All the time his mind went over what could possibly bring a messenger from the royal court all the way out here. He hadn’t heard from dear Fagan and Ambrosia since he and Adam had attended their coronation some three years ago now. That had been a bittersweet time, for it had meant seeing his friends elevated to the rulership of Kentros, but only due to the death of Ambrosia’s father, King Ambrose, the squirrel to whom he owed so much. He had often thought about writing or even visiting the reigning couple since then, but had always been too busy, it seemed.

He closed the stall door and left the barn, then headed back to the house. Dread gnawed at him with every step he took. What if it was more bad news like before? Or could it be that the two had finally given birth to an heir? He hoped it was something like that as he neared the door.

“Well,” he told himself, “only one way to find out.”

He went inside and made for the kitchen at the back of the house, where he found the messenger comfortably seated at the little dining table while Adam readied a tray with the tea and some candied acorns on it. A quick look from his mate told him that the visitor had revealed nothing yet as he took a seat opposite him.

“So tell us, Mister Trellon,” he began. “What brings you so far from the court in search of me?”

“Well sir, in ten days, His Majesty King Fagan will be leaving the capital with a small entourage on one of the greatest diplomatic missions of the last century.”

“And what mission is that?” asked Adam as he served up a tray bearing a carafe of elderberry tea with candied acorns decoratively arranged around it. He then took a seat beside Alar.

“He will be traveling east through the mountains to visit Boarra, capital city of the Kingdom of Corallia. There he shall meet with their king, Basil II, to sign a peace treaty between our two realms.”

“But we’re not at war with Corallia, are we?” asked Adam.

“Not actively, no. But nor have we been on the friendliest terms for the last fifty years. This treaty will change that, and will bring our realms closer together through trade and possibly the assurance of mutual defense.”

“Intriguing,” remarked Alar. “But what’s this got to do with us?”

“Well sir, Their Majesties would like to request that you join King Fagan’s retinue as part of his personal guard.”

“Does he expect trouble, then?”

“Not per se, but it only makes sense to be prepared for all eventualities.”

Alar did not like the evasiveness of the reply, but before he could press the issue further, Adam exclaimed, “Sounds like quite an honor!”

“Oh, it is, I assure you. Though, His Majesty would be equally honored if you were to accept.”

Alar paused for a moment in silent thought. There was something more to all this. Something this messenger wasn’t telling them, though he couldn’t quite put a claw on it. He leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

“Why us, though? Surely there are plenty of guards to draw on in the capital.”

“Indeed there are. However, for this particular venture abroad, King Fagan wishes to show only his finest. And you, the squirrel who slew the dark wizard Magus and saved our beloved queen, are without doubt among the finest in all the lands.”

“That was years ago,” said Alar, waving his paw dismissively. “I doubt I could do anything like it again.”

“Sure you could,” Adam piped up, nudging his mate in the shoulder. “You still practice with your swords regularly. You’ve even trained me a little.”

“For self-defense, yes, but…”

“And that’s exactly what this would be, right sir?”

Trellon nodded. “Indeed. If even that much.”

“Then I don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be able to go, do you dear?”

Alar shot a look of disbelief at Adam as he replied calmly, “No, I suppose not.”

“Splendid!” exclaimed Trellon. “And you are, of course, welcome to bring your husband on this venture as well.”

“The king said that?” It was Adam’s turn to be surprised.

“Indeed he did. He and the queen remember you with great fondness as well.”

Seeing how quickly his mate was being won over, Alar decided to bring the conversation to a swift conclusion.

“We’ll have to think about it,” he said. “After all, we’ve got the spring planting to consider, and…”

“But of course!” exclaimed Trellon. “We would not ask you to make this decision right away. Please, take time to think on it first. We will not be departing for another ten days. If you wish to join us, you need only present yourself at the royal residence before that time.”

Alar nodded slowly. “Very well. Then you will see us there, if you are to see us at all.” He rose and shook the messenger’s paw.

“Indeed, sir. And thank you for the delightful tea and acorns,” he added with a gracious nod to Adam. “I’ve not tasted such good nuts since I was a boy, even from the royal kitchens.”

Adam dipped his head modestly. “Thanks.”

“I’ll escort you back to your horse,” said Alar.

And so, the burly buck accompanied the gray messenger to the barn, where he saddled up and thanked Alar again for his hospitality.

“I do look forward to seeing you two again at court. Should you decide to come, of course.”

“Of course. And thank you for your message, sir Trellon. Give my regards to the king and queen.”

The messenger nodded, then trotted outside. Alar walked to the barn door and leaned on the frame as he watched him go. Trellon trotted down the path to the main dirt road, smiling to himself all the way. King Fagan had been absolutely right: a lovely and loyal couple. He had little doubt that he would be seeing them again. He then turned north and took off at a gallop up the road.

Alar watched until the last of the dust cloud kicked up by the horse’s hooves had dispersed, then sighed and rubbed his brow. So much for a quiet, peaceful day. He turned and propped the barn doors open, then set to work letting the horses out to graze.