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   Chapter 38 No.38

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 4886

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:03


'I don't know' Brice replied.

'You've never seen it before?'

Brice shrugged to his son. 'We don't normally do this sort of thing.'

Farrell glanced away from Brice and his son, and back towards Arlen. 'You're still wearing that cloak?' he suddenly noticed. 'The one I gave you years ago?'

'It's a gift from my dear brother' Arlen replied.

'You look like a jester in that bright red' Brice interrupted loudly.

'Very funny.'

Is your arm alright?' Brice asked Farrell, noticing suddenly his injury.

'It's fine. It's only bruised.'

'You're lucky to be alive' Shawn voiced. 'A thing like that could easily kill a man.'

'I've had a lot of training' Farrell replied with a grin, rising to his feet, 'and two strong brothers to protect me.'

Shawn took a deep breath then, wishing in his head to be one day strong like his father, strong like Farrell, and as fearless and loyal as Arlen.

The four turned their eyes then on the thing behind them. It looked small now as it receded into the tunnel. It was no longer the nightmare they had thought it to be not moments ago, but a creature easily frightened, as it continued to back away from the flaming torches that were waved before it, moving away until it was out of sight completely.

'Did you see the size of that bloody thing?' Brice whispered.

'Don't swear' Arlen scowled.

'What is it?' Farrell asked.

'It is nothing you should concern yourselves with' came the king's voice as he approached them.

Walking with him, were three finely dressed men, they were much younger than the king. Farrell recognised them as the king's sons. He had thirteen children in total. The princes wore their own crests woven into their fine clothes, a wolf depicted running up a steep mountainside.

'Where did that thing come from?' Farrell asked the king.

'Ask no questions and I will tell you no lies' the king replied. 'You've done a great deed for me in finding it.'

'You've done a great favour in helping my father' one of the princes spoke; 'we are indebted to you.'

Farrell looked at him. He was slim faced and handsome like his brothers, with wavy blonde hair and a piercing stare. He looked to be about the same age as Farrell. His name came to Farrell suddenly. It was Tristan.

'We thank you for your help' Tristan said. 'But it's time for you to go home now.'

It was dark when Farrell entered his home and walked through the kitchen hours l

ater. He found the room lit by many small candles, and a meal waiting for him on the table.

'My husband' Ramana beamed, gliding towards him. 'I've been waiting.'

'Where's Amaia?'

'I sent her to bed early' Ramana smiled. 'Please sit.'

'How did you know I was coming?' Farrell asked as she moved across the kitchen.

'I've been watching through the window for hours' Ramana told him. 'I saw you coming from a distance. Are you hungry?'

'Yes' Farrell replied, only just realising it. 'I'm starving.'

'Then eat.'

Ramana sat by his side, gazing at him lovingly as Farrell lifted his fork to eat.

'You know I love you dearly' Ramana told him. 'I hate it when we argue. I just wanted to make it up to you. I'm sorry.'

'No. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry.'

'It's ok' Ramana smiled. 'It doesn't matter.' She sighed happily. 'How was your day? Where did you go, did you do anything exciting?'

Farrell thought.

'No' he replied simply at last. 'Just regular soldier stuff.'

'I'm so lucky to have a man like you to protect me' Ramana said.

Farrell smiled up at her.

'Eat' she said again, poking him in the stomach. 'A man who doesn't eat will fade away. Oh, what happened to your arm?'

'It's nothing' Farrell shrugged it off. 'It's just bruised.'

Chapter Eight

Fun with Paint

A few days later

Farrell twirled his sword one more time before swinging at Brice.

'You're showing off again aren't you?' Brice frowned in annoyance blocking the attack.

Farrell smirked at his brother, pushing him back. They continued to fight for several minutes until Brice stepped back, straightening up and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, breathing deeply.

'Very good' Brice laughed.

'Let's take a rest' Farrell said, nodding towards a tree stump.

They sat side by side; getting their breath back and watching the clouds drift by lazily above them.

'I've been thinking' Brice said.

'About what?'

Brice smiled to himself. 'Maybe I shouldn't have brought Shawn with us the other day. He's been going on none stop about his next…adventure…' he shook his head. 'He tells me constantly how he longs for action. Every day he asks me when we will be going out to fight again.'

Farrell chuckled under his breath.

'If he is half as good a soldier as you are' Brice said to Farrell, 'then I will be very happy.'

'I believe he will be ten times the soldier I am.'

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