Arthas: Rise of the Lich King by Christie Golden Read Free Book Online Page A

understand all aspects of it.
    Arthas was fourteen now, and had been training with Muradin several times a week, save for when the dwarf was away on diplomatic errands. At first, it had gone as both parties had expected—badly. Arthas left the first dozen or so sessions bruised, bloodied, and limping. He had stubbornly refused any offers of healing, insisting that the pain was part of the process. Muradin had approved, and he had shown it by pressing Arthas all the harder. Arthas never complained, not even when he wanted to, not even when Muradin scolded him or pressed the attack long after Arthas was too exhausted to even hold up a shield.
    And for that stubborn refusal to whine or to quit, he was rewarded twofold: he learned and learned well, and he won the respect of Muradin Bronzebeard.
    “Oh yes, sir, I was paying attention.” Arthas chuckled.
    “Good lad, good lad.” Muradin reached up to clap him on the shoulder. “Now, off wi’ ye. Ye’ve taken quite the beating today; ye deserve a bit o’ rest.”
    His eyes twinkled as he spoke and Arthas nodded as if agreeing. Today, it was Muradin who had taken the beating. And he seemed as happy as Arthas at the fact. The prince’s heart suddenly swelled with affection toward the dwarf. Though a strict taskmaster, Muradin was someone of whom Arthas had grown terribly fond.
    He whistled a little as he strode toward his quarters, but then a sudden outburst froze him in his tracks.
    “No, Father! I will not!”
    “Calia, I grow tired of this conversation. You have no say in this matter.”
    “Papa, please, no!”
    Arthas edged a little closer to Calia’s chambers. The door was ajar and he listened, slightly worried. Terenas doted on Calia. What in the world was he asking of her to make her beg with him and use the term of endearment that both she and Arthas had dropped as they grew toward adulthood?
    Calia sobbed brokenly. Arthas could take it no longer. He opened the door. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear, but—what is wrong?”
    Terenas had recently seemed to be acting strangely, and now he looked furious with his sixteen-year-old daughter. “It is no business of yours, Arthas,” Terenas rumbled. “I have told Calia something I wish her to do. She will obey me.”
    Calia collapsed on the bed, sobbing. Arthas stared from his father to his sister in utter astonishment. Terenas muttered something and stormed out. Arthas glanced back at Calia, then followed his father.
    “Father, please, what’s going on?”
    “Do not question me. Calia’s duty is to obey her father.” Terenas marched through a door and into a receiving room. Arthas recognized Lord Daval Prestor, a young noble whom Terenas seemed to hold in very high regard, and a pair of visiting Dalaran wizards he did not know.
    “Run along back to your sister, Arthas, and try to calm her. I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”
    With a final glance at the three visitors, Arthas nodded and went back to Calia’s rooms. His older sister had not moved, although her sobs had quieted somewhat. At a total loss, Arthas simply sat beside her on the bed, feeling awkward.
    Calia sat up on the bed, her face wet. “I’m sorry you h-had to see that, Arthas, but m-maybe it’s for the best.”
    “What did Father want you to do?”
    “He wishes me to marry against my will.”
    Arthas blinked. “Calie, you’re only sixteen, you’re not even old enough to get married.”
    She reached for a handkerchief and dabbed at her swollen eyes. “That’s what I said. But Father said it didn’t matter; we’d formalize the betrothal and on my birthday I’d marry Lord Prestor.”
    Arthas’s sea-green eyes widened in comprehension. So that was why Prestor was here….
    “Well,” he began awkwardly, “he’s very well connected, and—I guess he’s handsome. Everyone says so. At least he’s not some old man.”
    “You don’t understand, Arthas. I don’t care how well connected or handsome or even