Riddermarch by Ellen Quellery (top 10 motivational books .TXT) 📖

to it. Immediately, the sword in Ranoft's grip began to heat and swell in his fingers, and he could not let go.

"No!" screamed the children who recognized the signs of the curse that had been on all the objects sent to their home. Only this one was ten times worse. Ranoft's hands started to catch fire, and he screamed.

Dale Rawling, out of nowhere doused Ranoft with a bucket of water, knocking the sword from Ranoft's fingers with the bucket. The smoke rose murky black and stank of burned hair.

The Lord Baron stared at Dale next. "You interfere?"

"Get back," Ranoft hissed to Dale, whom he knew would not be able to fend off the sorcerer's blow.

Jastalettel pulled Dale back and away, standing between the Lord Baron and the man. Grennanod joined her side, clasping her hand.

"Just a bigger target," the Lord Baron smugly said. Then he muttered low. His voice resonated and split into several echoes.  

The ground below them shook, heaving many off their feet - though the Riddermarches somehow remained standing. The tiles in the floor cracked. Everything shaking, the earth split, causing several more in the room to fall. Furniture collapsed. The lights dropped down. And so many of the guests to the disaster-of-a-ball screamed, trying desperately to get out of that house.

The bees attacked the baron to stop him.

He burned them away like little puffs of dust.

The bruised squirrels went in for more, or tried to.

And the ants under his home attacked but could not reach him as he crushed and drowned them with water from the fountain outdoors. He reached up to send out another fatal blow to the approaching birds that Ranoft drew back - until the roots of the tree ripped him off his feet and threw him at the wall.

"That's enough out of you!" Erleon shouted. His brothers, Cedalot and Saliferth, ran on his heels, bringing in the town dogs, which ran after the lord baron, biting what they could reach.

But the sorcerer lopped one dog's head off and stabbed another in the throat. And he advanced on the little Riddermarch boys as they scampered quickly from him.

But Erleon held his ground, smirking at the lord baron as the man came closer. And for a sharp second, the lord baron hesitated.

Immediately he ducked. That same second, a tree knocked over the wall he was just next to. Then its boughs grabbed for his arms, tearing away his sword again.

And though the rooks dived in and attacked Erleon and all those in the lord baron's way, the Riddermarch children stood tall together and advanced on him as a battalion. Their dark glassy eyes fixed on the one who had killed their mother. The one who had tried to kill their father. And the one who sought to destroy them and everyone else. And while the earth heaved beneath their feet, they walked steadily to him, fingers pointing with silent commands to those that followed them to end the reign of this disturber of their peace.

"No!" he screamed.

But the trees lifted him off his feet and into the air while the other birds drove off the rooks. Swarms of insects flew in, descending on the sorcerer who struggled and tossed out every curse conceivable within his arm's reach.

But no truly powerful curse was ever made from a few words in a heated moment. And his defense against the armies of the Riddermarch family soon became nil. The tree ripped off his arms and head - though no one could see for the swarms of ants, spiders, and winged things surrounding him. They only saw the cloud of butterflies, dragonflies, hornets and others as they devoured the wailing man. In seconds, nothing but bones were left - and even those got taken away by the dogs.

The swarms dissipated, separating - though some butterflies and bees settled in the Riddermarch children's hair, along with a few dragonflies.

The animals ran back the way they had come.

All that remained was the enormous tree. It now filled the most of the ballroom, as if it had been there for decades.

"Where is he?" murmured, some of the guests, rising from debris. They dusted off their clothes looking about.

"Maybe he turned himself into smoke and is watching us?" More of the guests came out, searching fearfully at the settling dust.

All their eyes took in the Riddermarch children, each one standing ragged in their gowns and suits around the enormous tree. The party guests gazed up at the leaves, eyes resting on the singular skull which had a small branch growing quickly through its eye.

"Is that...?"

Several gasped, shuddering and pointing.

Another odd thing was the unprecedented and unexpected appearance of nine or so deer, standing around the tree and the Riddermarch children. Their heads also gazed upward.  

One of the deer was snowy white.

Ranoft drew in a breath, staring at it. Erleon pulled Celdalot and Saliferth away from it. The sisters stared, inching towards their brothers.

But their father rose from his sheltered spot in the rubble, clenching his wounded side. He stumbled forward and bowed on one knee to the white deer.

"Is he...?" Ernest Brokwood stared at the white deer, remembering what the brothers had said about it. "Is that the Elfking?"

"No."

The voice that had answered him was resonant and rich, like the strumming of a cello mixed in with a low toned woodwind. Each of the deer rose onto two feet, now looking like men with antler crowns, dressed in long tan-and-spotted suits not that different from Erleon's. The white deer had become a lean elf with long white hair and glassy blue eyes. He stared at Ranalon, their father.

"Riddermarch," the white elf said. "You have trespassed on the silent agreement between our peoples, attempting communication with the father of all fathers after your blasphemous refusal to heirship. We have come to deliver your punishment."

"Have I not been punished enough?" Lord Riddermarch said wearily. He gestured to his lifeless wife then to his wounded side.

"Not nearly," the white elf said, no feeling in his eyes.

"No!" Erleon stepped between them, arms out and chest heaving. "For the love of all that is holy. Leave my father alone."

"You too you are guilty of trespass," the white elf said, glassy eyes on him.

"I don't care!" Erleon shouted.

Ranoft rushed to his side. "Erl, please. This is not the same as a minor elf."

But Erleon shook his head. "No, Ran. This is all the same. Our family has been cursed enough by the Elfking. He had tormented our family for generations. It must stop now."

"But you can't take on the entire - "

"Then I accept the Elfking's terms, and I will become the heir."

Ranoft paled. So did his father.

"No," Ranalon staggered to his son. He put a hand on the side of Erleon's face. "Please. I could not bear to lose any of you."

"It is the only way to end the curse on the Riddermarch family," Erleon said. Then the turned to face the white elf. "I am calling out to the Elfking! I, Erleon Riddermarch, accept the Elfking's terms. I will be his heir."

Before them, where a dappled brown-and-autumn-colored rabbit sat, grew up an imposing elf, with a face very much like their father's.

Chapter Thirteen: The Elfking

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Elfking's autumn hair of varying shades hung down in a straight line to his waist, blonde at the roots and dark brown at the tips. He wore a crown of deer-like horns, and his eyes were glassy dark - exactly as the legends had said. And though his face was much like Lord Riddermarch's, his demeanor exuded power beyond anything any of the Riddermarches had ever felt before. He towered over Erleon with an imperious eye.

"You think you are fit to become Elfking?" The voice of the Elfking resonated inside their chests, yet sounded so familiar. It was like all the voices of all the grown Riddermarch men speaking at once.

His knees almost buckling, Erleon took a step closer to his ancient ancestor. "Fit or not. I know you will not leave us alone until one of us comes with you. And I will not allow you to take my brothers or my father from us."

"Erl!" Ranoft shook his head. "Think this over! This is a bad idea."

The mouths of the elves watching curled in cold smirks at them, agreeing.

But Erleon closed his eyes and shook Ranoft off. "I've made my decision. Fact was, I knew he was coming."

Ranoft pulled back, staring at him. "You knew?"

"The trees told me," Erleon said.

"The trees?" Intrigued, the Elfking glanced ever-so-slightly to the white elf who stiffened the minutest fraction in defiance. "You speak the language of the trees?"

Erleon sighed, lifting his eyes back to the Elfking. "We all do. It is an elf trait, is it not?"

Their father set a hand to his head. "Erleon..."

"It is..." the Elfking said, peeking once more to the other elves who seemed to be clenching their teeth. "...an ancient elf trait, lost by many. Though, the kings still have it."

Erleon lifted his eye to the Elfiking, surprised.

Walking around him, the Elfking said, "Interesting. Born of magic... the traits of the ancients have been drawn out in you." But his eyes trailed to Cedalot and Saliferth, who were young and malleable.

Erleon quickly stood in his way. "Not them. As I said it, I volunteer."

"Are you even fit?" asked the Elfking again, peering down his nose at the young man. His eyes then turned back to Cedalot who shuddered under the Elfking's glassy stare. He then gazed toward Saliferth who hid behind Azuesh.

Once more putting himself between them, Erleon rose higher, lifted by the tree roots underneath him so that he stood face to face with the Eflking. "More than fit. What more can you possibly require? I am the same age as your first heir when you came for him - Begennagan Riddermarch."

The Elfking snarled at the mention of their ancestor's name. "The ungrateful child."

"He loved his mother," Erleon snapped.

"Spiteful woman," growled the Elfking.

"She loved her husband," Erleon replied, maintaining his posture in his way. "And I love my family. Which is why I will go with you."

"Please Erl! Don't!" Jastalettel cried out, rushing up.

"It won't make it better!" Grennadod joined in.

"Then how about a trade," the Elfking finally said, mirth on his pale cold lips. He seemed amused, not so much with Erleon as he was with the family desperate to keep him.

He strode over to their mother, whose lifeless sawdust body lay on the table, covered and wrapped as any revered loved one. The Elfking gazed down on it, then looked to Ranalon. "How strange that you put all your strength and power into this one lifeless doll. What for? You now know it was nothing more than a doll."

Staggering over to his wife, Ranalon moved to block the Elfking from her - but he did not have the strength of his son as the battle had taken a lot out of him. "She was the woman I loved. I don't care what mistake I had initially made. She had become the love of my life. So that's what I gave her."

Chuckling frigidly, the Elfking brushed him aside as if Lord Riddermarch had been a downy seed. He stroked down the top of the sheet, from the head of the doll to