Lachlei Read Online Free

the intricately carved throne, listening to Areyn’s words. The son of the goddess, Elisila, was old, even though his body had remained young. None here knew his age, save Areyn. The godling was over three thousand years old and had seen many battles — including the first battle against Areyn Sehduk.
    Areyn remembered the king of the Silren and despised him. During that battle, the kindreds had reunited under godlings such as Silvain and Lochvaur. They had fought with Rhyn’athel to overthrow Areyn. None here save Silvain remembered that battle. None here save Areyn, himself.
    Areyn had been hesitant at first to approach Silvain in his new body. Silvain had powers beyond even a normal first-blood, but Areyn soon discovered that the godling could not see beyond his disguise. No one could, save perhaps another god, and even then, Areyn doubted one of the lesser gods could recognize him. Areyn guessed that only Rhyn’athel could, but Rhyn’athel wasn’t here.
    Rhyn’athel wouldn’t get involved. That was the beauty of the Truce. Only when it was too late would the warrior god enter the fray. By that time, Elren would be Areyn’s and the power would shift. With the power of five worlds under his command, Areyn knew the other four would eventually fall.
    It was a good plan. It would work. Even the meddling Ni’yah couldn’t do much about it. Areyn had seen a wolf after he had killed Fialan, and that had troubled him at first. Could it have been the meddling god? But the wolf had fled, not confronted him, and Areyn had sensed nothing special about that wolf.
    Behind Areyn sat the Silren nobles, many who gazed at him in admiration. He knew the Silren’s minds and now was the time to put into words their desires.
    “With the Lochvaur champion gone, the Lochvaur are leaderless,” Areyn said. “Their confusion is our gain. Now is the time for the Silren to take back the lands that are rightfully ours.”
    A murmur of assent rippled through the Silren nobles. There was no love between the Lochvaur and Silren .
    Silvain raised his hand for silence and the room stilled. He met Areyn’s gaze. “We are at peace with the Lochvaur . We agreed to the treaty Lochalan and I signed nearly a hundred years ago.”
    Areyn laughed. “Have the Silren gone soft? Were not the lands the Lochvaur now occupied once ours?”
    “The North Marches have been in dispute for many centuries,” Silvain said evenly. “I remember when Lochvaur, himself, claimed those lands.”
    “Yes, but so did you,” Areyn replied. “They were our lands first.”
    The nobles looked to Silvain.
    The king of the Silren smiled, his ice-blue eyes met the gods. “Indeed, they were our lands,” he admitted. “Akwel, you know our history very well. Very well indeed.”
    Better than you think, Areyn Sehduk thought darkly.
    “But what of the Chi’lan ?” one voice objected. The Silren warriors parted and a tall woman clad in mail approached the throne. Her ice blue eyes considered Areyn with contempt.
    “Rhyn’athel’s dogs,” Areyn scoffed. “With the Elesil , we can defeat the Chi’lan and take back our lands.”
    “ Rhyn’athel’s dogs, as you call them, are the best warriors in the Nine Worlds,” she said. “We spilt much blood to obtain that treaty, and you would throw it away on a worthless scrap of land?”
    “North Marches is hardly worthless, Cara, my daughter,” Silvain said. “It has been traditionally our lands before Lochalan.”
    Cara met her father’s gaze. “The Elesil will not enter the fight with us.”
    A sardonic smile played on Areyn lips. “Conlan has assured me his support. The Elesil want their lands to the east almost as much as we desire ours. Now is the time to act, while the Lochvaur are leaderless.”
    “You’re insane — the Laddel and Haell will assuredly come to the Lochvaur aid,” Cara objected.
    “I hear the prattle of women,” Areyn spoke. Many of the nobles chuckled in response.
    Cara drew her sword