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Authors: Jordan Baker

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BOOK: A Stolen Crown
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Perhaps it was his power enhancing his sight but the mage could almost see the scales taking shape before his eyes on more of the queen’s body and her stomach became even more distended with every passing moment. Thus far, the queen's life did not appear to be in any immediate danger but, given the nature of the situation, he decided then and there that he would not leave her side until she had come through this ordeal. The young mage had never heard of a thing like this being done and he prayed to the one god that Calexis would survive. He was a mage of the Priesthood, but he was also a Xallan and was loyal to his queen. It would not do for him to have played a part in her being harmed.

It had taken nearly two days before Calexis had awakened and she opened her eyes to find the mage still at her side. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him, disoriented at first and wondering why he was there in her chambers. At least he was unclothed as was the custom in her presence, though for some reason, she was not feeling particularly amorous. She was tired and her body hurt, everywhere. Then she remembered, what she had done, and what had happened with the Darga. Calexis took a deep breath. She could feel her breasts hot and engorged and she could feel the tight strain on the skin of her belly and, when she felt something warm and moving deep within her, she knew she had succeeded.

The young mage thought his queen might be upset or confused but when she smiled at him, his fearful suspicions about her purpose were confirmed. He noticed that her teeth had also begun to change their shape and somehow seemed sharper and pointier than they had previously been. A short time passed before the young mage worked up the courage to ask a question that had been plaguing him from the start.

“Your highness. Please, tell me why? Why would you do such a thing?” he asked, getting up from the side of the bed and beginning to pace nervously. Calexis watched him with eyes that resembled the gaze of a predator. She smiled widely now and the mage could see short fangs had grown where her normal pointed teeth had been.

“Why?” she responded, letting her head fall back on the pillow to look at the rich fabric that sheltered her bed. “Maybe I want more. And now I have something very powerful.” She held her hand over her stomach. “And he will rule the Darga for me so you mages won’t have to worry yourselves with keeping them in line.” She let her head fall to the side and stared again at the mage. “Now get me something to eat.”

“Yes your majesty. Shall I have the kitchen prepare…”

“Meat, mage, raw meat, and lots of it. And if you don’t hurry, I’ll just have to eat you.”

The young mage picked up his robes from the place where he had left them and scurried out of the room. Calexis smiled as she watched him leave, feeling like a cat who had just sent a mouse out to fetch her dinner and she wondered what a mage’s flesh might taste like. It was too bad she could not take their power in such a way and make it her own, or she would consider dining on their kind.

*****

 

“Makes my blood boil, it does!” Duke Boric exclaimed as his horse pushed through the deep snow. “We did nothing to provoke them and now they’ve all but declared war on us!” He turned from his nephew Borrican who rode beside him and gazed at the high peaks and treacherous canyons that fell beneath the mountain road. “At least we’ve got the mountains and the snow. That will buy us some time.”

Spring was still a ways off, but the main road between Kandara and Maramyr, which was usually kept open, had been closed by order of Cerric who was now king of the land to the south. Instead of the usual garrison that patrolled the road and kept it clear after heavy snows, there were now several times as many soldiers posted at the way stations leading up to the mountains and several scouting parties had ventured into Kandaran lands. They had even attacked several of the Kandaran outposts that were closest to the border. The Maramyrian scouts they had taken prisoner defiantly told them of the princess' murder, and how everyone knew the Kandarans were responsible, particularly the prince, who they believed was the one who had planned the attack.

Both the Duke and his nephew agreed that the story was preposterous. Boric knew it made little sense that Borrican would do anything to harm Ariana for it was obvious, to him at least, that his nephew was in love with the girl, even though Borrican did not quite realize it. Boric had been doing everything in his power to arrange things so the two of them might marry one day. And Borrican thought it was a ridiculous idea that Aaron would be the one to put her in danger. Aaron had helped him save the princess when she had been attacked in the forest and could easily have harmed her then and numerous other times since, if that had ever been his intent.

Borrican was numb at first from the loss of both the princess and his friend Aaron so his uncle Boric had suggested that they should oversee the defense of the kingdom from the encroaching enemy. The cold of the mountain trail and the regular skirmishes between their patrol of soldiers and the Maramyrian scouts kept him occupied enough not to indulge his sorrow, but after a while, an angry fire began to burn deep inside him. First, the Xallans had blamed his people for attacks on the villages near the eastern mountains, which had had already created tensions between Kandara and Maramyr, now that Cerric was becoming more and more friendly with the Xallan Queen, and now, he was being personally blamed for the murder of two of his only real friends. Borrican was angry that things could be twisted around in such a way and he was mortified that it would likely mean war for Kandara. No matter how angry he was, he could not shake the sadness that his friends were dead and the frustration at how powerless he was, wishing he could somehow go back and see them again. He was lost in such thoughts when his uncle suggested they should ride ahead of their soldiers a distance, where they could speak privately.

“I found something in the eastern foothills, Borrican,” Borric said. “I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t run across them before, but once, long ago, I spent some time in the eastern reaches north of Xalla.” Duke Boric breathed a sigh in the cold air, sending a frosty cloud from his mouth. “I think those villages were burned by Darga.”

Borrican turned to his uncle.

“Darga?” he asked, remembering having learned about them in his studies. “The snake people?” Duke Boric nodded.

“They are called that, but Darga are more like lizards than anything, Borrican. They are a little bigger than a human, they walk upright and, though they are not particularly intelligent they, they can speak as well. Tribes of them live in the swamp far to the east of the Xallan Empire, and they’re very dangerous.”

“They have something to do with dragons, right?” Borrican asked.

“Some people think they are distant cousins to dragons,” his uncle said, shaking his head. “But I can’t imagine that, apart from having scales, they’d have anything in common. Dragons are creatures of magic and are intelligent, while the Darga are fairly stupid and are not known to have any special powers. Plus, while a hungry dragon might make a snack out of a cow or a deer, the lizard men will kill and eat anything that bleeds red, and it is rumored that humans are one of their favorite prey.”

“They eat men?” Borrican asked, appalled at the idea. Duke Boric nodded.

“And women and children," he said. “When I rode east to the Xallan borders I found Darga tracks near a few of the villages that were burned. Most of the signs had been covered up, and things were made to look like we Kandarans were behind it, but I found a few tracks that were missed and I followed them back to an encampment that looked like it had been occupied around the same time as the villages were destroyed. There was a pit, buried over and fairly well hidden." As his uncle continued his story, Borrican felt a chill that did not come from the biting wind of the mountain pass. "I dug it up and it was full of bones, human bones, gnawed clean. I encountered the Darga once, a long time ago when I was a young man about your age, and there was no mistaking the kind of damage they can do. I am going to dig up some of the old records when we get back to the city and see if I can try to find out more about these creatures. It seems they are directly involved in this plot against Kandara.”

“Don't the Darga come from the east of the Xallan Empire?" Borrican asked, trying to remember the few things he had learned about the lizard men during his studies. "Wouldn’t the Xallans know if the Darga were to pass through their lands?”

“We have little interaction with the Xallan lands and its people, but they are very military oriented so one would certainly think so, Borrican,” he said with a frown as he urged his horse through the gathering snow. “One would certainly think so.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

A lone rider made his way through the dense forest trail while several sets of eyes looked on from among the snow-covered trees. The trail was known only to a few of the local farmers and hunters and this rider certainly did not look like one of them. His fine wool cloak billowed in the blowing snow as he halted his mount and scanned the trees, sensing that someone or something was watching. He whistled a birdcall then waited for a moment before whistling another one.

From the trees, Brian and Kaleb glanced at each other. The rider knew their signals, but neither of them could recognize who he was and it could easily be a trap since Manfred had captured a few of the men in a recent ambush and they might have been forced to give away information. Kaleb gestured for Brian to take a position closer to the man then whistled a birdcall of his own.

The rider heard the sound and turned in his saddle.

Kaleb watched Brian make his way silently along a short ridge that ran beside the trail. He was impressed with how naturally the young man moved across any kind of terrain, sure-footed and quiet as a deer, despite his size. Brian had grown heavy with muscle over the winter, a far sight bigger than he was when they had first met, and yet he was one of his stealthiest men. One of the advantages of growing up in the forest, Kaleb supposed. Once Brian was in place, Kaleb whistled again. The rider slowly dismounted. That was a good sign. If it were a trap, whoever the man might happen to be, he would not be able to escape before the arrow that Brian had knocked in his bow found its way to him.

The man repeated his first whistle again then after a ten count, he repeated the second. Kaleb scanned the surrounding trees. There was no sign that anyone had been following the rider. He responded with another whistle then raised a hand over the drift of snow that had been shielding him. The rider saw the movement and left his horse where it stood, trudging through the snow. Kaleb watched as the man approached, pulling the heavy hood of his cloak from his head and dropping it to his shoulders. He was relieved to recognize the man as a friend, and a good one at that.

“Jax Larien!” Kaleb called as he rose from the blanket of white. Jax smiled, glad to have finally found his old friend after much searching.

“Kaleb.” He outstretched his hand and clasped it to that of his friend. “Good fortune to have found you.”

Kaleb gripped Jax’s hand and saw that his lips were nearly blue from the cold. Remembering the young man still hiding in the trees, Kaleb turned and signalled to Brian that all was well. A moment later Brian rose from the snow and began his descent to the trail to join them.

“I wasn't sure if you were still in this part of the forest,” Jax said. “But I had hoped as much. Please tell me you have a warm fire nearby.” The man rubbed his hand together and Kaleb smiled.

“That I do. And though it’s some distance from here, I think you’ll make it,” he said with a smile then turned to his young companion. Brian had slung his bow back over his shoulder but his hands still rested cautiously on the handles of the two axes tucked into his belt. “Jax Larian of Ormyr, meet Brian of Ashford,” Kaleb introduced them. Brian nodded to the dark-cloaked rider.

“Well met, Brian,” Jax said, shivering visibly. He turned back to Kaleb. “They grow them big in these parts, don’t they.” Kaleb laughed and looked at the strapping lad, realizing that Brian might look intimidating with his massive shoulders and the two oversized battle-axes crisscrossing his belt.

They arrived back at the hillside barracks a short while later and Kaleb was pleased to learn that Jax had already searched the area and had not been able to find the hidden shelter. If an expert tracker like Jax could not find the place, then it was unlikely that anyone else could. Even though a hot fire burned brightly in the hearth, the special chimney made by the original builders, and recently brought back into service by Kaleb’s men, dissipated the smoke so that even from a short distance, it would not be visible to searching eyes. While Jax warmed himself by the fire, Kaleb retrieved a bottle of strong spirits and asked Brian to see about some hot food for them all.

Jax happily sat at the table closest to the hearth and watched as Brian placed thick strips of salt pork on the heavy iron grill that hung over the hot fire. Kaleb handed him the bottle and, not even bothering to smell what it was, Jax took a strong pull from it, feeling the slow burn as the liquor made its way down his throat. He had travelled a long way through the vicious winter snow to find his friend and was relieved that hospitality was in relative abundance.

“So tell me, Jax, what brings you out this way?” Kaleb asked, almost nonchalantly. "I thought you were determined to stay at Maramyr to keep an eye on things.” Brian sat down on the end of the bench by the fire and Jax glanced at the young man, then around at the room seeing that a number of Kaleb’s men were listening intently, likely curious about who he might be.

“I got a pretty good look at the inside of the dungeon and it convinced me to leave,” Jax told his friend. Kaleb raised an eyebrow.

“You were arrested? How?”

“Caught, arrested, jailed, and pretty much convicted on the spot. That’s the way Cerric runs things now at Maramyr. They were going to put me to death so I thought it was a good time as any to escape.” Kaleb shook his head and looked over at Brian.

“Jax here is one of the best swordsmen in all Maramyr, and a pretty good thief too. It’s a hard day when someone like him gets caught by the city guard.” Kaleb told him. He did not tell the boy that Jax was also a trained assassin, a secret known to very few.

The Larians had been a family of assassins who had been given land and titles by the last king, Gregor, with the promise that they would no longer practice their craft in his lands. The Larians of Ormyr had thus become sworn protectors to the king and spies for the throne even though Gregor had not asked it of them. They had claimed that such activity would allow them to keep up their skills without them having to kill anyone, at least not anyone important. When Cerric had assumed regency over Maramyr, he quickly set out to discredit the Larians, claiming that they could not be trusted, though the real reason was that the Larians refused to spy for Cerric.

The regent finally found his opportunity to rid himself of the family of spies one day when Dash Larian, Jax’s father had been discovered in a sealed wing of the palace without leave of the royal guard. For such trespass, Cerric had rescinded the dead king’s order of title and seized the lands of Ormyr from the Larian family. Dash Larian was never heard from again but, for a long time, Jax believed that his father still lived. Jax found out from one of the palace guards that his father had been caught in the part of the palace where the king and queen had died. It was supposed to have been sealed off permanently, but no one could say how either Dash or the palace guards, who had allegedly apprehended him, had been able to enter that part of the palace in the first place. That had been years ago, and Jax had lost his taste for honorable living and had become an inveterate thief, though he still kept up with a few friends from the more respectable days of his youth.

Jax stared at the fire, feeling the warmth penetrate the layer of cold that had worked its way into his flesh. He was a great swordsman and a very good thief but bad luck had betrayed him that day in the crown city. Of course it had been a might foolish to steal the Xallan ambassador's jewels by the light of day but he had taken greater risks many a time and always escaped without a scratch.

“Bad luck,” he said, staring at the flickering fire. “It was plain bad luck. I was liberating the purse of the Xallan ambassador when I ran across one of the young Academy boys. I hate to admit it, but he slowed me down long enough to get me surrounded by the city guard.” Kaleb raised an eyebrow.

“A student?” he asked. Jax nodded.

“I didn’t think they still taught them proper swordplay but this fellow was years beyond anything he would have learned here. Aaron was his name, and he seemed to be a real honorable sort too, and since honor is in short supply these days, it would have been a shame to kill him, so I figured it would be easier to surrender and escape later.” Brian had been turning the bacon on the grill when he heard Jax mention Aaron's name. He wondered if it could be his friend, Aaron, who he had been wondering about for some time.

“You said someone named Aaron stopped you?” Brian asked. Jax smiled at him

“I'm pretty sure that was his name. Nice young fellow.”

“What did he look like?” Brian asked and Kaleb leaned back and listened with interest.

“About my height but a little bigger in the shoulder," Jax told him. "Light hair, good features and blue eyes that seem to look right through you. He’d be about your age too and damn good with a sword. Not as good as me, but in another life, he would make an excellent sparring partner.”

“Do you know this fellow?” Kaleb asked Brian.

“It sounds like he might be a friend of mine,” Brian said with a frown, though his eyes were shining with excitement. “And he was very good with a sword. Tarnath had him training with it since he was a boy.”

“Tarnath?” Jax asked. Kaleb too looked surprised. “The armsmaster?” Brian shrugged.

“He was Aaron’s uncle. He said he was a soldier at Maramyr a long time ago. I didn't really pay much attention to things like that before, but he’s the one who taught me how to use the axes and to shoot a bow properly.”

Jax nodded slowly and took another drink of the strong liquor. Tarnath had been one of his father’s friends, someone he himself had met and respected as a fighter. His father, who some might say had been an even better swordsman than Jax himself, though Jax would beg to differ, had considered Tarnath to be his equal with a blade, a respect accorded to few, if anyone. If this Aaron had trained with the old armsmaster it would certainly explain why he had given Jax a difficult time. Unfortunately for Brian, who seemed quote pleased to hear of his friend, Jax had heard more about this young Aaron, mostly from eavesdropping on the guards, who were some of the worst gossips he had ever encountered. As it turned out, the young man in question had made quite a name for himself.

“Well my boy, I don’t know what sort your friend Aaron really is, but they're saying he conspired with the Kandarans and murdered the princess, Ariana," Jax told him. "Apparently, Cerric intends to go to war with Kandara over it."

Brian had been about to serve the man some hot food but now he felt more like giving him a taste of cold steel. He turned toward Jax with a smoldering look on his face and his fists clenched. His axes were standing by the wall, but he had not removed his dagger from its sheath on his belt. Brian reached for it, but discovered it was gone, and somehow Jax was no longer at the table. Brian felt a pressure at his throat.

“Easy there, my boy," Jax said. "I’m not saying that your friend did what they say he did, I’m just telling you what they’re saying.”

More than a dozen swords pulled from their sheaths as the rest of the room saw the stranger Jax suddenly standing behind Brian with a dagger at his throat. Kaleb, who had listened to the entire exchange held up his hands to his men, motioning them to stand down. He watched as Brian’s face slowly calmed and the young man regained his composure. Jax slowly removed the sharp blade from his throat and smoothly spun around Brian, effortlessly tucking his dagger back into its sheath on his belt and Brian was surprised at how quickly the man moved.

By the time Brian looked up from the dagger at his belt, Jax was sitting back at the table, stretching his feet out with his own dagger balanced on the tip of his finger. Kaleb shook his head and chuckled at the scene, despite the shocking news he had just heard. He stood to address his men who still had hands to their swords.

“This man, Jax Larian, is our friend and he has just demonstrated to Brian how quickly we might be disarmed should we be inattentive or let our emotions get the better of us." Kaleb shot a look at Brian. "He will stay with us for a time and we are fortunate to have him among us. I ask that you welcome him and listen to what he has to say. Jax has come from Maramyr and brings news that will likely affect us all."

On cue, Jax stood and took a dramatic bow for Kaleb’s men as more of them filtered into the main room from other adjoining rooms. As he introduced himself, Kaleb motioned for Brian to sit near him that they might talk.

“I am sorry, Lord Kaleb,” Brian said. “But Aaron was my friend and I can’t imagine him doing such a thing. I got a little angry, but your friend Jax is right. He's just telling the story as he heard it. I still don't believe it though.”

“I think you are right to be suspicious, Brian," Kaleb told him "Too many things have been happening in Cerric’s favor of late for him not to be involved in this somehow. I wonder that people have not come right out and begun saying as much, but perhaps they are too afraid. We have had reports for some time that those who have disagreed with Cerric have either gone missing or turned up dead.” Kaleb turned to his friend. "Let's hear the news from the crown city."

They listened as Jax told them what he had learned at Maramyr before he had escaped the city. Things did not sound good, either for those in the city, or for the people who lived in the country. He told them about the Xallans and that Kandara was being blamed for the death of the princess. If Cerric and the Xallan Queen were talking of an alliance against Kandara, it looked as though things in the dark forest and the borderlands were only likely get worse.

BOOK: A Stolen Crown
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