Read Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood Online
Authors: Valerie Zambito
“You are one strange Dwarf,” commented one of Rogan’s escorts with a long, red beard as he dragged Rogan to his feet from out of the bottom of the skiff that carried them from Deeport.
Rogan could not decide whether his earlier hysteria sprung from the stress of his current situation or the irony of being freed from exile at long last only to arrive in his homeland to be arrested and thrown face first into a boat. It took two days to navigate the Koda River, and Rogan was cold sober now, but with his disheveled clothing and matted hair, he knew he probably looked like the demented creature they thought him to be.
“I want to see the King,” he said hoarsely to the two soldiers ensconced on either side of him with a firm grip on his upper arms.
Redbeard laughed. “Yeah, and I want to date the Princess of Men.”
“She’s already taken,” Rogan replied caustically.
The soldier looked at him askance and then shook his head. “I am afraid it is the dungeons for you, my friend.”
“Nice homecoming,” he snorted to himself as they walked down another stone dock to the street below, all the while wondering if the Dwarves harbored some deep-seated resentment against trees and wood.
The weather was comfortably cool in the early morning hour, and citizens were taking advantage as they briskly went about their errands without a hint as to the danger that loomed. He was unsure of the name of this riverside city, but knew that Kondor was located some distance away still on the eastern border of Deepstone. Somehow, he must find a way to convince the soldiers on the journey to give him an audience with the King. He would protect his countrymen from Adrian Ravener whether they wished it or not!
“Homecoming?” asked the other soldier who had not yet spoken. He had a light brown beard that just dusted his chin, which meant he was close to Rogan’s age. “I thought you were a shifter born in Pyraan?”
Rogan shook his head. “I was born in Kondor and then exiled when I was six years old. At least that is what I have always been told.”
The soldier stopped in his tracks. “What is your name?”
“Radek. Rogan Radek.”
The young soldier glanced at his partner. “Maybe we ought to bring him to the King after all.”
“Yes, you should!” Rogan said trying to shrug off his captors. “In my pack, you will see that I carry a Decree of Purpose that will authenticate my need to see King Rik.”
Redbeard untied Rogan’s hands just long enough to strip him of his pack and then quickly put the binds back in place. He opened the pack, pulled out the Decree, and read through it carefully. “Wait here,” he said to his younger companion. “I will arrange for horses and dispatch a messenger ahead of us to Kondor to inform the Fists.”
The younger Dwarf nodded and led Rogan to a stone bench at the edge of a small square, gesturing for him to sit. “I am Dillon Hamderk.”
Rogan sat down. “You recognize my name?”
“Of course. You do not remember me?”
Rogan shook his head. “Sorry, no.”
“We were friends. Good friends. We lived next door to each other. I am actually quite shocked to see you again because I was told that you had died.”
The thumping in Rogan’s chest was loud even to his own ears as he leapt to his feet. “Do my parents still live next to you?” he asked, and then held his breath as he waited for Dillon to respond.
Dillon lowered his head. “No, I am sorry, Rogan, but they passed years ago.”
Rogan felt like somebody rammed a wooden club into his abdomen, and he fell back onto the hard bench. Just like that, his search had come to an abrupt end. All those years of wondering what his parents were like. All that time fantasizing about a reunion in which his parents gather him in their arms and tell him how much they missed and loved him. With a few short words, his dream had ended and there was no family standing at the end of it.
He turned his head so Dillon would not see the tears welling in his eyes. He wondered why he did not remember Dillon when the young Dwarf so clearly remembered him. “Did I have any siblings?” he managed to croak out, his face still averted.
“Not that I am aware.”
“Who lives in the house now?”
“Nobody. Nobody has lived there since your parents died.”
Rogan knew he was taking a risk, but had little choice in the matter. Dillon was his only potential ally in this land. He lifted his head to look the soldier in the eyes. “If we were once good friends as you have just told me, Dillon, then I should be able to trust you.”
“You can. I swear it on my life.”
Rogan breathed out a sigh of relief. “I need to see if any of my parents’ belongings are still in that house. I am looking for a pendant that I must retrieve without fail.”
“I will see what I can do, but I am sure that once the King hears what you have to say, he will release you from detention and you can search for yourself. I will guide you there if you like.”
“I would. Thank you, Dillon.” He cracked a smile. “I wish I could remember more about our friendship.”
“Me, too,” he replied and pulled Rogan to his feet when Redbeard returned with the horses.
It was a hard, three-day ride through the otherworldly landscape of bare rock to Kondor. His body was raw from sunburn and his throat ached from constant thirst. So much so that he almost cried in relief when the dust kicked up from the horses of their escort appeared on the horizon.
“The Fists?” asked Rogan.
Dillon nodded. “The King’s elite personal warriors.”
They were outfitted in the same blue and maroon as Dillon and Redbeard except with the addition of black sashes tied at their waists. Without any conversation, the Fists created an impenetrable ring around their small party and led them into Kondor. They moved at a clipped pace and within a short time, the stone palace of the King of Dwarves came into view. Crossing beneath a portcullis and into the courtyard of the castle, Rogan took notice of the soldiers standing on the wall above, warily watching his progress.
They are afraid of me.
Servants scattered out of the way of the imposing entourage when they dismounted, and the Fists led the way promptly up the palace stairs. Rogan did not have time to blink as he was ushered directly into an audience chamber where King Rik Rojin stood near his throne. Seeing the King for the first time, Rogan was momentarily taken aback at the naked hatred he saw in the man’s eyes. He was taller than any Dwarf Rogan had ever seen, and had a long, flowing white beard that he wore gathered at the middle with a gold and ruby clasp. A simple gold circlet sat regally upon his head.
Dillon and Redbeard released their hold on Rogan’s arm and went to stand with the Iron Fists who had spread out efficiently throughout the chamber.
Rogan walked forward, hands still bound, and dropped to his knee in front of the King. “Your Grace.”
“What are you doing in this country, shifter?” the King growled, malice rolling off him in waves that seemed powerful enough to physically sweep him from the room. The King held the Decree limply in his right hand.
“I have just come from Iserlohn…,” he began.
“The affairs of Iserlohn do not concern me,” interrupted the King, sitting down on his throne and tossing the parchment to the ground.
“Your Grace!” cried Rogan in astonishment. “You do not understand. The island has been invaded by the Mage, Adrian Ravener, who was one of those who fled to the north at the end of the Mage War. He brings with him an army of thousands! If you do not aid us in this fight, Ravener will make slaves out of every man, woman, and child, whether Dwarf, Man or Elf!”
Rogan could hear the Fists shuffle their feet behind him. He did not care. If the King was going to act irresponsibly, he needed the Dwarves to be witness to it.
“I believe you exaggerate this Mage’s capabilities for your own purpose, shifter.”
“And, what purpose would that be?” Rogan asked in bewilderment.
“Your freedom.”
Rogan could not understand why this King was directing such loathing at him. Although he had never met the King, it felt extremely personal. “You are right, Your Grace, my freedom is something I desire, but I desire my life more.”
The King turned his back and waved his arm. “Escort this shifter to a cell.”
When the Fists moved toward him, Rogan struggled to his feet. “My name is Rogan Radek, Your Grace. If you are going to condemn an innocent man to imprisonment, you should know his name first!”
The King turned around slowly, eyes burning. “I know who you are.”
“How?” Rogan demanded, impatient for answers. “Mage Starr was unable to tell me anything of my heritage on his deathbed. What can you tell me?”
The King, for the first time, seemed disturbed. “The Mage is dead?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that old buzzard would outlive me for sure.” The King was silently lost in his memories for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “Iron Fists! Take him out of here!”
Without use of his hands, Rogan could only dive and roll out of the way of the advancing soldiers. “You cannot do this! Even if the Dwarves wish no part of this fight, I must continue on! I have been named
Savitar
!” Two Fists jumped on him.
“If King Maximus wanted help from me, he should have thought better of his choice of messenger!”
“I do not understand!” screamed Rogan. “Why do you hate me so? At least tell me that!” The King silently watched as the Fists wrestled him toward the door. “You are a coward, King Rik!”
“
Silence!
” the King roared as he stood from his throne. “I am no coward,
nephew
. When your father,
my brother
, tried to flee with you when your vile shifting abilities were discovered, I made the most courageous decision of my life to save this country and my people. I killed him! My own brother! All because of you! Now get the bloody hell out of here before I kill you, too!”
G
emini Starr idly fingered the embossed hilt of the royal crest of Iserlohn on the sword that lay on the bureau behind her desk. It had remained there untouched since Kiernan Everard surrendered it to her five days ago. The Princess had been with them almost five weeks now, and Gemini had spent the majority of that time indoctrinating Kiernan into the ways of the coven, instructing her on their core values, philosophies, hierarchy, and the use of gemstones in sorcery. Gemini’s mother, also a sorceress, taught her very early on about the extraordinary power contained in gemstones. Those early teachings were precisely why she founded the coven in Elloree after the Mage War against the express wishes of her brother, Galen. She simply refused to sit back and do nothing while every shifter girl born on the island was flung into exile instead of being given a chance to hone and develop her unique talent. Because of their innate shifting capabilities, every woman in the coven had the gift of magic and so had the ability to work with the stones. Each “Gem,” as the women liked to refer to themselves, worked with one specific gemstone and directed the energy contained within to master a skill used in witchcraft.
Gemini’s own daughter, Sapphire, worked with that most precious of all blue gemstones, the sapphire, because it contained the metaphysical properties for her chosen craft, Spell Casting. Born Dayna Starr, her daughter was so Named when she achieved her position as Sect Leader. The women and girls who work exclusively with sapphires to create spells all answered to her daughter. When Sapphire died or could no longer hold her position for any reason, another woman from within the Sect would then be raised up and Named Sapphire.
She continued to stroke Kiernan’s sword. The Princess was one of them now.
After learning that her mother, the Queen, brought her to Elloree as a young girl in her desire that Kiernan become one of the Gems, the Princess began to succumb to Gemini’s insinuations. The rejection of her father and a quarrel with the young man she loved made it easy to manipulate the vulnerable Princess into shedding former ties and agreeing to join the coven. If a thread of guilt wormed its way into Gemini’s conscious, she quickly stamped it out. What she was doing was necessary. It was what her mother, Gemini’s dearest friend, wanted for her daughter, and she would fulfill that wish.