Chosen by The Berserker
Warlords of Farian | Book 5
Bailey Dark
Copyright © 2020 by Bailey Dark
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
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One
Ilisa
I brushed snowflakes from my lashes and cheeks and pulled the fur hood of my cloak up over my head. Blast this frigid planet… I was ready to get back to Farian. It had only been a week here on Vailstor, but the cold had seeped into my bones and I was finding it hard to get warm, even snuggled into blankets in my spaceship’s bunk at night.
The snow enveloped my boots as I walked, sinking into the prints behind me as I trudged, collapsing over my steps, as if this planet wanted to forget that an off-worlder was walking its surface.
I looked behind me and waved for Modifi and Kala to follow me more quickly. They had been reluctant to jump down from the comforting warmth of our transport into the snow of Astrida’s high mountains as well. But, we had been sent here by the signed resolution between our King Kajo and the new leader of Vailstor, General Truloy, to fetch Skarde, the Berserker, the man who we would escort to our planet to become a new Warlord of Farian.
Four of my most trusted Farian warriors were with me and--
I lunged to the side into the snow, narrowly missing the thrown spear as it lasered in toward me from the dusky trees to the right.
“We are attacked!” I called. I pulled myself to my knees, huffing against the weight of the snow pattern stretched across my buried chest and swept aside the next spear with a swift telekinetic defense. It sank into the snowbank, a barely visible line in the pure white.
“Hold your fire!” I yelled, hoping the translator on my chest could keep up. “We are a contingent from the planet Farian, here to speak with Lord Skarde, sent with orders from General Truloy!”
There was no response, but there were also no more thrown spears. I looked back toward my Farian warriors, standing braced in the snow, daggers out, knives splayed around their heads ready to fire. I waved my hand to them, telling them to put their weapons away.
“But, Bravo Ilisa, if they fire again, we need to be ready,” Kala said telepathically.
“The messenger who was supposed to come ahead of us by horse must have been waylaid. We must trust that they will let us in to show Lord Skarde the scroll from General Truloy. We cannot fire on them. It will break the treaty.” I knew my words to be the ones I must give, as the leader here, but it rankled that we were being attacked and I could not respond as I wanted to… Which was to eviscerate those who felt themselves worthy enough to attack a Farian.
There was a movement in the trees to the right and a barrel-chested man wearing a fur coat and carrying a large pike stepped toward me. He stopped about ten feet away.
“What happened to General Blatson?”
“He was unseated by Commander Cartari of the planet Farian. General Truloy is now the ruler of Vailstor and Farian has initiated a pact with Vailstor that includes a significant contribution and celebration for Lord Skarde. We come bearing that order. Please, I command an audience with your Lord.”
The man glared at me a moment more and then nodded, beckoning that I stand up.
“Apologies for the attack. We do not get visitors here.”
“I understand.” I forced the words out, but they did little to quell the fire burning in my chest. How dare they attack us? It was especially frustrating, since we could lie low every one of their warriors with simple gestures of command. The fact that they were able to think they were winning this confrontation…
“Leave your weapons on your ship and we will escort you to Lord Skarde.”
I nodded, the fire in my chest flaring so that my tongue felt thick as I choked out the word: “Agreed.”
“Put your weapons back on the ship, but do it telekinetically, to show them we do not fear being weaponless amongst those who do not have telekinesis.”
“Confirmed, Bravo.”
As I commanded, my four Farians removed their weapons without using their hands and all daggers, knives, crossbows, and swords sailed back into the ship’s hold, through the frigid air, snowflakes slicing against the sharp metal, with our telekinetic power.
The man’s eyes grew wide as he watched the weapons fly with the powers of the charzbos, the barbarians, as they called us off-worlders from our beautiful planet Farian. His soldiers stepped from the shield of the forest and gathered around us, their eyes also wide, their hands not far from their hilts and their spears still clutched in their hands.
We might not be holding any weapons, but it was clear to all present that that did not mean we were disarmed.
The high mountains of Astrida stretched up around us as we paced through the snow, the soldiers of the hold walking much more easily through the mounds in their wide boots, modified to be a type of snowshoe that they could also run in atop the snow. There were ten of them, and just five of us. Two of their soldiers had been left with our ship, but I wasn’t worried. The artificial intelligence of our spaceship knew better than to let anyone inside without proper authority.
The giant doors of Astrida’s main entrance opened into the base of the mountain, as if
