Peredhil crested the ridge and paused to admire the view. The previous day?s snow had given everything a white sheen, which glittered brightly under the midday sun. Forests of oak, beech, elm, walnut, and maple trees stretched for leagues before giving way to rhododendrons, azaleas, and the native chinolaberries. Beyond lay the capital city of Elessar, with its array of colors. Peredhil easily spotted his palace near the center of the city ? the glistening ivory towers and the bright Elessari flags fluttering in the wind were hard to miss. The city stretched to the edge of land before ceding to the Bay of Dolphins, its turquoise waters lapping gently onto wide beaches of black sand.
He let his eyes stray to the west, where, as the altitude rose, forests turned into highlands that finally peaked into mighty snowcaps marking Elessar?s borders with the smaller kingdoms of Doman and Pyrith. Somewhere farther beyond lay Rhydin. His gaze remained fixated on some distant point for a few moments, before he let it fall with a small sigh. No use pondering such things now, he told himself firmly.
Peredhil urged his stallion down the narrow path that led to the city. Preparations were being made for two weeks of festivities in honor of his being named King of Elessar. It was largely a symbolic gesture, since Peredhil had in fact led the city for almost a year. Yet it would be the first time that anyone would assume the title of King in three decades, since the death of Peredhil?s father when Peredhil was still in his mother?s womb. The Council of Eleven had gone into hiding during Celior?s brutal reign, so the tyrant had never been able to take the title he coveted so dearly. When Peredhil removed Celior from power, the Council had returned, but he had served as Crown Prince for the past year. Traditionally, he would have assumed that role at birth, but his mother had moved away from Elessar upon his father?s death and she had passed away when he was still a toddler. Peredhil had lived in ignorance of his noble lineage for virtually his entire life.
Peredhil?s gaze was drawn west again, where it lingered. The continuous celebrations and ceremonies over the next two weeks would undoubtedly confine him to Elessar. Two weeks could sometimes seem like a lifetime. What might change by the time he returned to Rhydin?
He let his eyes stray to the west, where, as the altitude rose, forests turned into highlands that finally peaked into mighty snowcaps marking Elessar?s borders with the smaller kingdoms of Doman and Pyrith. Somewhere farther beyond lay Rhydin. His gaze remained fixated on some distant point for a few moments, before he let it fall with a small sigh. No use pondering such things now, he told himself firmly.
Peredhil urged his stallion down the narrow path that led to the city. Preparations were being made for two weeks of festivities in honor of his being named King of Elessar. It was largely a symbolic gesture, since Peredhil had in fact led the city for almost a year. Yet it would be the first time that anyone would assume the title of King in three decades, since the death of Peredhil?s father when Peredhil was still in his mother?s womb. The Council of Eleven had gone into hiding during Celior?s brutal reign, so the tyrant had never been able to take the title he coveted so dearly. When Peredhil removed Celior from power, the Council had returned, but he had served as Crown Prince for the past year. Traditionally, he would have assumed that role at birth, but his mother had moved away from Elessar upon his father?s death and she had passed away when he was still a toddler. Peredhil had lived in ignorance of his noble lineage for virtually his entire life.
Peredhil?s gaze was drawn west again, where it lingered. The continuous celebrations and ceremonies over the next two weeks would undoubtedly confine him to Elessar. Two weeks could sometimes seem like a lifetime. What might change by the time he returned to Rhydin?