Free The Lord Of Lightning (Book 3) by K.J. Hargan Page A

trees.
    At dawn they reached the expanse of the Eastern Meadowland, avoiding the small village of Rion Ta.
    "Come my daughter," Alrhett said to sixteen year old Wynnfrith. "There is safety for us somewhere out there."
    Two days later they found the small, hidden village of Bittel, where a tall blonde haired man, twenty years of age, lived out his solitary days trying to forget the tragedy of his life back in Gillalliath.
    The moment Wynnfrith laid eyes on Kellabald of Bittel she knew she was safe. This quiet, tall man was polite and sympathetic. He moved with a gentle strength in everything that he did. There was nothing violent or boasting about Kellabald. He was filled with love, and Wynnfrith saw that love shining in him like a beacon in a dark world full of despair.
    Wynnfrith didn't care that he lived as a peasant, her life as a princess was over, and this attractive man, with the soft brown eyes, became her whole world.
    A year later they married. Back in Rogar Li, her royal wedding would have generated a feast that would have lasted for a moonth, with contests and parades. At their wedding in  Bittel, there was only a priest Kellabald brought from Alfhich, the bride and groom, the bride's mother, and sunlight pouring through the quiet cathedral of trees that canopied their hidden village. Wynnfrith was the happiest bride in all the world.
    A year after that, shortly after their son Arnwylf was born, Yulenth the glaf came to live with them, telling a sorrowful tale of the destruction of his people by the Northern Kingdom of Man. Alrhett and Yulenth fell in love and were married by the time Wynnfrith's second son was born.
    Bittel was quiet, filled with love and happiness, and oblivious and isolated from the wars that raged throughout Wealdland.
     
    Wynnfrith looked down at Frea. This red haired girl is the same age as I was when I fled Rogar Li, Wynnfrith thought. The sun rose over the Far Grasslands, hot and burning. Wynnfrith took Frea's long dagger and cut the branches of some low-lying scrub to cover them, as they rested for the day.
    Frea turned fitfully in her sleep, and she dreamt.
     
    She was older. She was an adult and she was wandering the great granite corridors of Ethgeow, the castle in which she spent her childhood years. But this was not her Ethgeow. This was the New Ethgeow, the rebuilt Ethgeow, grander, more resplendent than any structure ever constructed by any human.
    Her grandmother Miri came to her, smiling.
    "Miri!" Frea cried. Her grandmother was a strong woman, the mother of her father, Haergill, King of the Northern Kingdom of Man. Miri had short gray curls. She was tall for a woman, wide of shoulder, and not to be trifled with.
    Miri spread her arms and took her granddaughter in a warm embrace.
    "What do you think of New Ethgeow?" Miri asked.
    "New Ethgeow?"
    "Did you not think your husband would keep his promise?" Miri smiled, still holding Frea.
    "Husband?" Frea asked.
    "King Arnwylf the Great," Miri said with a reproving shake of her head.
    Frea could only blink in disbelief.
    "Let us go see him," Miri said, and led her granddaughter by the hand through the arched stone corridors, out onto a parapet.
    New Ethgeow was filled with a crush of humans, happy humans dressed in gay colors, laughing and feasting. They all looked up and cheered to a far balcony.
    Frea followed their adoration to see Arnwylf on a far balcony. He was older and regal, and age made him more handsome than ever. He sported a dark blonde beard, and had several more scars upon his face than Frea ever remembered.
    Frea turned to ask Miri a question, but her grandmother had disappeared.
    "Oh," Frea said aloud. "Of course, she can't be here because my grandmother is dead."
    Then Frea was startled by terrible high-pitched screaming. She looked down at the courtyards filled with people, who were shrieking in terror for their lives. They pointed up and Frea turned to look up as well.
    High in the sky, something was coming.
    It