SYLVAN ELF CHRONICLES. Christianne Van Keuren
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SYLVAN ELF CHRONICLES
BATTLE FOR ELVENFELD
Christianne Van Keuren
Copyright © 2020 Christianne Van Keuren
All rights reserved
First Edition
Fulton Books, Inc.
Meadville, PA
Published by Fulton Books 2020
ISBN 978-1-64654-838-5 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64654-839-2 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
This book is dedicated to the readers and friends with whose encouragement (and some nagging!) has allowed this adventure to be revealed in the pages that follow.
To my young readers, please daydream as you begin your own journey down the pathways of life. In addition, to all the more ‘seasoned veterans’ don’t forget to let your mind wander down the forgotten pathways of youthful memories. You might just find them a little more peaceful and pleasant, sans the bumps and bruises acquired. Many thanks to you all. And Jen D. go raibh maith agat. (Gaelic for Thank you.)
Special thanks to my son Devan as you have always been first and foremost in my heart and dreams.
The pieces are in motion as the board for domination of all becomes set.
A run in with a fell beast; the likes of which Telasar nor Bertie had never come across, separates the group. Even momentary separation of the three could swing the balance of power into question.
Nalas’ servant Tobias finds the female soldier who humbled Nalas on the training field. His discovery has unknowingly revealed Nalas’ Achilles heel to himself and the Wargi sorcerer. A sorcerer sees her as an obstacle blocking his path to control Nalas.
Nalas’ obsession may be his undoing; if Kaleen and the female soldier Mattea realize it they can thwart his intentions and the direction of the war.
Heartbreaks and heroics are the order for the day. Individual strengths and sacrifices are demanded from all to defeat the evil in Nalas’ black heart.
Chapter One
THE storm the night before had opened up with a heavy downpour, accentuated with a brilliant lightning display and accompanying, deafening thunder. It was successful in washing away much of the scuffle and blood from the ensuing fight of the day before.
Even though they had managed to stretch a tarp to huddle beneath, the group awoke damp and grumpy. The heavy rain; though brief; had proved too much for the tarp and it leaked in the middle, drowning out the small fire they tried to keep going for warmth. It leaked mostly because someone had the brilliant idea to use his bare hand and not a stick to push up the tarp to remove the water that bellied the tarp in the middle. Several of them glanced, or more appropriately glared, at the opposite side of the ravine with a jaundiced eye. Jason was the first to voice his displeasure of his discomfort the following morning.
“I hope they had a good night’s sleep last night.”
“Eventually,” Bertie mumbled under his breath; envy tainting his tone for a different reason.
“What was that you mumbled Bertie?” Jason asked.
Bertie was in no way going to reveal what he knew had gone on the night before with the pair on the other side, especially to Jason.
“I said probably. But then again, we might never know until we ask them will we?” Bertie almost growled.
“Oooooh,