Inheritor of Strength (Book one of Alfireán age)

The Fellowship Is Formed

"All right!" Alf exclaimed as he pumped his arm. "I've always wanted to see that place."

Drakovian raised an eyebrow and unclasped his hands. He hadn't expected such an outburst.

"Do you think we'll have enough time for me to go a few rounds?"

Olivia shook her head at Alf. "The arena is for muscle bound pea brains that have more testosterone than intelligence. And we don't have time to play around."

Alf furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at her like a wounded puppy.

"After the teleportation stones have been taken care of, and Dylan has recovered sufficiently, he can take us back to the arena," Drakovian said, suppressing his amusement at their reactions.

"Really?" Alf asked.

"Yes, I believe it would be a good exercise for you to fight in the arena once time is available, seeing as you are in dire need of some battle experience."

Olivia rolled her eyes while Alf grinned at her. Suddenly, the young High Lord stilled and glanced off to the left.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

Drakovian froze. Something had moved in his sphere of detection.

Raising his hand as if to scratch his chin, he discreetly motioned to Dylan to examine the trees to the left of the training ground.

Despite his injuries, the veteran soldier moved silently across the field, and after a brief moment, his arm shot into the bushes.

The sound of panicked chittering echoed in the trees and Dylan's arm reemerged.

"The breach is most dire, Your Highness," Dylan said with a straight face as he held up a baby spider monkey.

The baby primate chittered and cried, trying to escape from Dylan's grasp. Its little tan fingers reached into the sky as it howled in desperation.

"Shall I dispose of it, Sire?" Dylan asked with a hint of chuckle in his voice.

Drakovian waved his hand. "Release it."

Dylan released the monkey and it scrambled back into the forest.

"Peculiar for such a creature to be out at such a time," Harold said rubbing his mustache. "Concerning other matters, though," the butler turned to Drakovian and said. "Sire, I cannot, in good conscious, agree to you leaving this estate. I strongly suggest you stay here while Alf and Olivia go alone tomorrow morning to locate this person."

Drakovian frowned.

It appeared Harold's status as his temporary headmaster had distorted the man's understanding of the current chain of authority—a problem Drakovian intended to rectify immediately.

Drawing himself to his full height, he stated. "The matter of my traveling is not up for discussion. I am going and that is final."

"Your Highness," Alf spoke up, apparently not comprehending the tone of his voice. "You may be forty years old, but in all respect, your body is that of a ten year olds. Harold's only concerned because your magic reserve is small and weak. If you came with us and we ran into some of Vackzilian's blood oaths there is no way we could defend you and fight at the same time."

"Sire," Harold continued before the prince could counter Alf's statement, "your life is one of the most valuable things we have in this fight, and for that reason we cannot allow you to leave this estate. If we must, we will have one of the teachers detain you."