On Blackened Wings
Chains of the Fallen Book 2
James E Wisher
Sand Hill Publishing
Copyright © 2018 by James E. Wisher
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-945763-40-3
Edited by: Janie Linn Dullard
Cover Art by: Paganus
071620181.2
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Epilogue
Author Note
Also by James E Wisher
About the Author
Chapter One
The charred stink of burning wood curled Binder’s nose. The remains of the birch clump he’d crashed into still smoldered behind him. With a thought, he snuffed out the flames, leaving only a lingering wisp of smoke. His fall from Heaven had been long and dark, but now he had arrived in the mortal world.
The Throne of Chains tugged at him, but weakly. He’d landed far from the imperial capital, which, given the size of the hole his arrival created, was just as well. Had he struck a populated area, blocks would have been leveled and thousands killed.
It would be hard enough getting everyone to work together; beginning his rule by killing a large swath of his future subjects would win him no hearts or minds. Though he had the power to compel obedience, in the long run freely given loyalty worked best.
First things first. He’d gotten rid of his wings and reduced his eight-foot height to a more reasonable six for the moment, but remained stark naked. That wouldn’t do at all. Humans had the strangest ideas about nudity and he didn’t want to get that sort of attention. Appearing to be a lunatic would do him as little good as leveling a city block. Fortunately, his power was such that shaping an outfit out of grass and twigs presented no obstacle.
When he’d finished, Binder wore black trousers and matching tunic and boots. He made the material light to account for the heat and humidity of the empire’s southern regions. His hair obediently wove itself in the single long braid favored by the locals. With his disguise sorted out, it was time to fly. He could reach the capital before dark if he hurried.
“Hey, mister, what happened?”
Two boys came running toward the blackened trees, their clothes more patch than cloth and filthy as only unsupervised boys could be. He guessed they were both under ten and badly malnourished given their height. One had a tan vest and the other blue. Aside from that, little differentiated them.
“I believe a meteor impacted here. I checked, but the stone must have disintegrated when it hit.”
“Wow!” Blue Vest peered at the smoking hole with big brown eyes. “Lucky it didn’t hit you.”
“Indeed,” Binder said. “Why are you two not in school?”
“School?” Tan Vest asked as though unfamiliar with the word.
“Yes, you know, a place of learning. The masters teach reading, writing, and basic math. It’s mid-morning, surely you should both be at your lessons.”
Blue Vest laughed. “We don’t have lessons, mister. Only thing orphans do during the day is try and find enough food to survive until morning. We were headed for the brook to fish or gig frogs when the meteor hit.”
Binder stared for a moment, but sensed no lie in the boy’s words. At its height, the empire had educated its citizens for free, even those without parents. And no child worried about having food to eat or a roof over his head.
True, the orphans would have ended up at a government work camp or in the military, but even forced labor would have been better than scrounging to survive. This was what lack of order led to. The other archangels never understood that while he wanted order, he wanted it for the good of all, not for personal glory.
“Is your town nearby?” Binder asked.
“It’s not much of a town.” Tan Vest pointed behind him. “Just go that way a mile or two. You can’t miss it.”
“Come on,” Blue Vest said. “We got fish to catch.”
The boys waved and ran off to the north. Binder wished them a silent good luck and turned in the direction indicated. Perhaps flying to the capital wasn’t the best course. He needed to see with his own eyes what happened to this place. Other matters had turned his gaze away for too long and this was the result.
It took twenty minutes to walk to the small patch of dirt and huts that aspired to be a village. Rice paddies ringed the town and would serve as a minor deterrent to anyone thinking about raiding the place. A dirt road in and out offered the only easy access. From the condition of the huts, he judged the villagers possessed little worth stealing.
A dozen workers in off-white smocks and large round hats looked up as he approached. Binder raised a hand and waved. He carried no weapon and should pass easily enough for a simple traveler. He’d made a point of not shaping his costume into anything too fine.
He passed between two of the paddies on his way to the village proper. None of the farmers greeted him, instead bending back down and resuming their work. From the height of the plants it looked like they’d bring in a good harvest.
The moment he reached the first building a black-an
d-tan mastiff came running out of the largest hut barking and snarling.
Binder glared at the animal, stopping its charge and sending it whining back home. A moment later three men emerged, better dressed and much better fed than any of the farmers. They also carried weapons. Wide, curved swords hung at their waists and the rightmost carried a cocked crossbow.
The center man was a bit thinner and a bit shorter than the other two. He stroked a narrow beard and smiled, displaying yellow teeth. “We don’t get many visitors to our humble village. What brings you by?”
“Just passing through. Shouldn’t you three be helping with the harvest?”
The men laughed so hard their faces turned red. When he’d caught his breath the center man said, “We aren’t farmers. Our job is to protect this village from those who would steal its harvest and harm its people.”
Binder gave the ragged village a meaningful glance. “I can’t imagine other bandits are much of a problem. I’ve seen leper colonies with more to steal.”
The spokesman’s smile vanished. “Are you implying we aren’t earning our keep? You walk into our village and insult us? For an unarmed man you’ve got a lot of guts. Maybe me and the boys will spill ’em in the dirt. That’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut.”
“Who said I was unarmed?”
Gray chains of pure soul force shot out of the air.
They pierced the bigger men’s throats.
Blades appeared on either side of the end link. When Binder called the chains back, the bandits’ heads plopped to the dirt.
“What are you?” the survivor asked. A trickle of liquid ran out his pant leg and pooled around his feet. Binder grimaced at the stink.
“I am your new emperor. Or I will be soon enough. When I’m finished, there will be no place for leeches like you in this world.”
A nervous chuckle slipped through the bandit’s lips. “You’re going to have to murder most of the population. You think simple bandits like us are bad? The nobles put us to shame. They rob whole territories. We were just trying to survive.”
“I don’t suppose it occurred to you to do something useful to earn your living?”
“Like what?” He gestured at his dead companions. “We have no trade. We grew up orphans. No guild would take us in without sponsors. We don’t even know how to farm. Becoming bandits was better than starving. We had a good thing here, until you showed up. These spineless cowards would rather give us what we needed than risk a fight.”
“You make a fine speech. Nevertheless, your time of preying on these people is over.”
The bandit shot Binder a pitying look. “If it isn’t us, it’ll be another group. There’s always another group.”
“Perhaps your heads on spears outside the village will discourage your peers. If not, I’ll return and kill whoever shows up next. I’ll kill as many as it takes to purify this empire. You humans breed so fast I can afford to sacrifice a generation or two if that’s what it takes.”
The bandit opened his mouth and a chain shot through it. He collapsed beside his worthless friends. Binder shook his head at the waste.
Fixing the empire was going to be a bigger job than he first thought.
Chapter Two
“Are you alright?”
The question seemed to come at Marie-Bell through a haze. She understood the individual words, but the meaning of the sentence eluded her for a second. When her eyes finally opened, she found Damien staring down at her, his forehead creased in concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
This time the question made sense. “Yeah. Sorry, my partner dragged my spirit away a little more aggressively than usual. I’m okay now, except for the rock digging into my kidney.”
Damien held out a hand and pulled her to her feet. “You gave us quite a scare, though Dreamer assured us you were fine.”
“Fine might be a stretch.”
She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the last of the fog. The sun was still high in the sky, so she hadn’t been out for long. Slowly it all came back to her, the dragons and their armies coming from north and south, the battle, and the Binder in Chains falling from grace. So much had happened. Her mind boggled at the idea that she’d forgotten, even for a second. Of course, getting your soul pulled from your body would make anyone feel shaky.
The three dragon representatives had gathered a little ways away and put their heads together. King Andrew and the archmage were engaged a similar distance away in the opposite direction, leaving only Damien and Jen keeping her company.
“So what happened?” Jen asked.
Marie-Bell forced herself to focus. “The remaining archangels gathered us for a meeting. They tasked twenty paladins with finding and securing the aid of Golden Dawn. I was one of those selected.”
“That makes sense,” Damien said. “I can’t imagine a purer soul than yours. If anyone can convince the final dragon to aid us, it’s the paladins. Who else is going?”
She glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. The rest of the paladins marched toward the group with Sir Collin in the lead. Someone had fetched the camp’s flag and carried it from a short pole. It looked like they’d decided to have a parade through a war zone.
“The answer’s on its way.”
Damien turned. “Figures he’d be going. How did Sir Collin get chosen in the first place?”
“The same way everyone else does I suppose.” Marie-Bell shrugged. She’d never given much thought to how most paladins found their partners. “Sir Collin has been grandmaster for as long as I’ve been a paladin, but I suppose he must have started as a regular soldier, the same as everyone else.”
The parade had moved close enough now that the others had noticed them. The king and the archmage turned to greet them while the three dragon-chosen watched with silent disdain. She knew how they felt. Sometimes the Order preferred showing off to getting things done.
Sir Collin stopped ten feet from the king and nodded, more like a greeting between equals than of vassal to lord. If the relative lack of respect bothered King Andrew, he hid it well. He’d probably dealt with Sir Collin enough to know what to expect.
“Majesty,” Sir Collin said with proper deference. “We have been called to find the final dragon. The archangels commanded us to locate and secure the creature’s aid. The kingdom may rest easy knowing my people are on the job.”
“Splendid, Sir Collin,” the king said. “I assume you have a plan to complete this task.”
“Of course. I will lead my followers to the Thunder Peaks, fly to the top of the highest mountain, and convince the dragon to invest her power in me. With that done we will return to lead the fight against the fallen angel.”
Marie-Bell doubted it would be so simple and from the look of disgust twisting the archmage’s face she agreed. Maybe the details would be worked out later.
“Do you even know where the Thunder Peaks are?” Al Elan moved to join the group—or maybe it would be more accurate to say Dreamer did. The dragon clearly still spoke through the young man’s lips.
Sir Collin stiffened at the implication of his ignorance. “Of course, they’re in the Old Empire. Far to the west across the ocean.”
The hint of a smile played across Al Elan’s face. “You realize the Old Empire sprawls across a continent half again as big as this one. If you fly west you will need to stay awake for three days before you reach land, assuming you don’t run out of soul force and drown. Once you reach the coast you’ll have to travel through the most densely populated parts of the empire, bypassing feuding warlords, and eventually locating a mountain hidden by dragon magic. Even I don’t know exactly where Golden Dawn has made her lair. Do you expect to just stumble across it?”
Sir Collin drew himself up to his full height. “Heaven and our faith will guide us. Rest assured, we will complete our mission.”
“Faith is a fine thing,” Al Elan said. “But a plan doesn’t hurt. The course you’ve chosen will only assure your eventual f
ailure and death.”
“I suppose you have such a plan?” Sir Collin said.
How long was the dragon going to let him get away with that attitude? It surprised Marie-Bell that one of them hadn’t slapped him down before now. Anyone paying any attention could see how much more powerful the dragons’ chosen were than even the combined force of paladins.
Al Elan seemed content to ignore his tone. “In fact I have. I recommend you head southeast. The western part of the empire is rugged and sparsely populated. You will avoid detection far longer that way than you will flying west.”
Sir Collin shook his head. “What kind of fool suggests flying through the Haunted Lands is the safer path?”
Marie-Bell darted a look at the others, but everyone seemed mesmerized by the argument between Sir Collin and Al Elan.
On Blackened Wings Page 1
