by Hurri Cosmo
Ice Dragon Tales
by
Hurri Cosmo
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
Ice Dragon Tales
An Amber Quill Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2014 by Hurri Cosmo
ISBN 978-1-61124-663-6
Cover Art © 2014 Trace Edward Zaber
Published in the United States of America
Also by Hurri Cosmo
How West Was Won
The One
Saving Jack
Slap!
The Superior Jewel
Talasar's Elixir
Dedication
To Brenna. She got us out. Even the
ones like me who hesitated, who still believed in a
company that was already gone. Thank you.
BOOK 1: THE SERVANT PRINCE
Prologue
Rex fidgeted in the alley, waiting like he had been told. He shivered in the dark but it was due to nerves, nothing more. It certainly was not a cold night. He heard movement to his left and jumped, nearly shouting. With wide eyes and a gaping mouth, he stood, his heart beating wildly. A scrawny cat darted into the darker shadows.
"Stupid cat," he muttered to himself. But suddenly the shadows shifted and a man stepped forward.
"Are you Rex, boy?" came a voice.
"Y-yes...I am." It took everything in him not to turn and run as fast as he could.
"Good." The man stepped closer. His overcoat spoke of wealth, as did his protruding round belly, which stretched the thick fabric to its limit.
Rex was compelled to reach out and touch the coat because it had such a look of softness about it, but he held back. While the man was not necessarily of any real importance, despite his expensive attire, he was certainly not a servant. And though Rex could not discern the colors the man wore, due to the darkness of the alley, he also didn't think the man was from the castle. Rex hadn't been told who would meet him, only that a man would give him one hundred silver pieces to deliver a letter. His family could truly use that kind of money. Still, it surprised him the man was obviously of some higher status.
"I...I was told you..."
The man handed him a folded, wax sealed paper. "Here. Deliver this to King Aric Tamusi of Claymoor Doom."
"Claymoor Doom? That's... I can't... That's too far."
The man next handed him a small, heavy bag. "Here is the silver you were promised, one hundred pieces plus a bit more. Hire a horse. It shouldn't take you more than a week, there and back." He leaned in close. Rex could smell stale liquor on his breath. "Tell no one."
Rex took the bag and opened it, seeing it did indeed hold a pile of silver glinting at the bottom. He wondered briefly if he should take the time to count it. "I-I won't...but..." He looked up and was shocked the man was gone. He looked around but the man had disappeared.
Not only could he move quietly, but for a fat, old man, he could also move fast.
Rex glanced at the piece of paper the man had handed him.
"Wow," Rex whispered. It had the seal of his own king, Oxys Amar of Blade Rain. "A secret letter from one king to another? That can't be good." He pocketed the letter and, taking one more wary look around, headed quickly toward the stables.
Chapter 1
Erora, queen of Blade Rain, was very fond of sex. As long as her partners were relatively good-looking, it didn't matter to her who came to her bed. But the man she let have his way with her tonight certainly did not fit that description. Under normal circumstances, she would never have considered this overweight, shiny-skinned baboon.
But this wasn't any normal circumstance.
As he fumbled around, Erora thought about how it was Lord VenTorry found his way to her bed. He had the audacity to think she could be blackmailed so easily. Having sex with the man wasn't the problem. But the belief he had blackmailed her into it? It was that she couldn't stand.
And the blackmail? VenTorry's knowledge that Crown Prince Diagus, her only son, was not the son of her husband, King Oxys.
When VenTorry was done rutting about, she left to pour them something to drink. When she returned, he was sitting there licking his thick lips with a lewd look on his shiny face. She heard a low chuckle. She was sure he meant it to sound inviting, but it only sounded disgusting. She handed VenTorry the glass of cool water and she drank from her own as she sat on the bed, her bare back to him. He took the glass and drank it all, gulping it down with loud swallows and a moan echoing inside the glass. After a wet sounding belch, he threw the glass, shattering it on the stone floor. Erora barely flinched.
What a bother.
Well, so much for his blackmail, because she had heavily poisoned his water, and when he died, it would be with great pain while she watched. She did so love to watch when they writhed in agony, especially when she knew she was the cause of it. Just like with Mormir.
Ah yes, His Grace, Mormir, Duke of Stone Mire--the man she had loved, the first man to betray her. Who knew Lord VenTorry had been his friend and confidant? She did remember some sniveling idiot who'd panted like a dog at the duke's feet some twenty-four years ago. And yes, the duke and she had not been as discreet back then as they should have been. But she also thought she had dealt with all of that--had rid herself of anyone who could guess at her dark secret. Obviously not. VenTorry had no proof. Still, rumors could be just as damaging.
But the problem was the letter in VenTorry's possession. A letter her own husband, dictated and commanded VenTorry to deliver.
VenTorry had shown it to her, even let her read it.
Ahhh. She had been a fool when she had panicked, overhearing Oxys's drunken murmurings about how the good Duke of Stone Mire had died--even threatening to look into the very old matter himself. She had to stop him, didn't she? But she should have known he had no ability to discern her secrets. The stupid man had only two things on his mind anymore--raping his constituent's pockets and raping their wives.
And now she had this fool waving a damning letter in her face, thinking he was so damn clever. VenTorry promised her he would not deliver the letter if she invited him to her bed. But that letter, now lying on the floor along with their clothes, would never leave this castle. And neither would VenTorry--alive anyway.
She did wonder who the receiver of her husband's letter was supposed to be, though. Oxys was obviously paranoid and so omitted the name on purpose, allowing only the carrier to know the destination. It was the one thing she would not learn from this baboon. He vowed only to tell her "someday" when he had had his fill of her "womanly assets," thinking that would protect him. But she did not intend to wait that long.
As she continued to endure VenTorry's clumsy attempts, she reflected on her poisonings--the one completed on Mormir, her work in progress on her husband, and VenTorry's soon-to-be demise.
Still, maybe it would have been smarter for her to have used a different method on the king than she had on Mormir, something other than slowly poisoning him. It was only that she had perfected this poison. She could kill fast or slow, without much pain or with excruciating torture. Most likely the selfish waste of a man saw the similarities between his and Mormir's illness.
Oh well, the old fart wouldn't be any sort of a problem for much longer anyway. She was going to step up her plans.
Unfortunately, with the death of her long-suffering husband, she would no longer be the queen. But it couldn't be helped. She could live with being the mother to the king. However, even that wouldn't happen if Oxys found out his firstborn was not of his blood. A deep part of her thought it would serve him right. She often imagined the look of shock on his face in that moment of knowledge. But, of course, it could never happen. She needed Diagus to ascend to the throne. The secret would have to remain exactly that, a secret.
So VenTorry, being he knew, would also have to die.
When the first death spasm hit the man, he doubled over, curling up on the bed. She smiled at him when he looked up at her. His eyes were wide with confusion, a bit of saliva dripping unheeded down his chin. Knowing she caused his pain and now this uncertainty, she wanted to squeal with pleasure.
"Something wrong...dear?"
He narrowed his eyes as if to ask if she had something to do with it.
"Of course I do," she cooed to the silent question. Another pain engulfed him and he cried out as he clutched his stomach and again curled into a ball.
Ahhh, so good.
He jerked again, crying out in a guttural tone that sounded like death itself. She saw drool mixed with blood trickle out of his mouth.
Oh.
It was so exciting to look into his dying eyes. He jerked again and she heard the dying man tell her...
"I...was right...not to trust... I thought you might...try..." He panted through another hard spasm. "But I thought if I didn't tell you who..." He laughed a shrill laugh, then doubled over again, breathing heavily, a death rattle very evident in the sound. "The letter I showed you... Oxys's letter...was a copy." He raised his dying eyes to look directly into Erora's. "The original one I...sent it...to...to..."
Lord VenTorry jerked one more time and stopped moving altogether.
Erora's scream was not one of pleasure nor very queen-like.
* * * *
"Prince Joron." Kinnabe ran down the hallway toward Prince Joron's chambers. He burst into the receiving room frantically looking for him, but the room was empty. "Prince Joron," he called again.
"Yes?" Joron said groggily as he came out from his bedroom. He had put on a robe to cover his nakedness but had failed to tie it shut.
Kinnabe averted his eyes, amused. The prince had no idea of his beauty or how it affected those around him, both women and men. Small and petite, he had creamy white, perfect skin. His hair was shoulder length, silky and dark brown. He usually wore it loosely tied back but this morning, it hung tangled around his face. That only heightened his allure, like he was fresh from his bed, which he was. His face was sweet, with large, beautiful green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, kissable lips. He stumbled to a chair in front of the fireplace, finally pulling his robe tight around him from the chill in the air and not from sudden modesty.
"I'm sorry, my prince, I know you only went to bed a couple of hours ago, but the king is meeting with a commoner, Hawklin Tuso of Ghost Pines Parrish, from the other side of Ice Dragon Pass. His daughter is gravely ill and in need of medicine that is only produced here in the Royal Infirmary. Hawklin tried to make it for the official assemblies three days ago but was delayed. The king is meeting with him outside those usual meetings because he came all this way."
Joron widened his eyes in surprise. Like Joron, Kinnabe was well aware of the oddity that King Oxys, Joron's father, would take time away from his customary activities to actually meet with one of his people in need, especially now he himself had become sick. "Really? When?"
"I believe they are in chambers right now, my prince."
"Damn. Hurry. Help me dress. I need to be there to make sure..."
He ran into his bedroom with Kinnabe shadowing him. Kinnabe shoved his own dark, unruly hair back from his eyes as he followed the prince into the bedchambers. Standing behind Joron, Kinnabe towered over him, but then most men did--and even some women. The prince's small stature inspired protectiveness in others. At times, his compassionate nature made that protectiveness necessary. Kinnabe smiled fondly at the back of Joron's head, his eyes wandering down to the beautiful neck hidden by that silky hair. How he loved the prince's soft skin. He had touched the prince enough in his years of personal service to know firsthand how soft it was.
* * * *
Kinnabe and Joron raced down the hall to the back of the meeting room. Joron had been hidden, secretly listening, three days ago when the official assemblies took place. He had then spent those three days and all last night fixing what the king refused to. He and the castle servants had put together many bundles of fresh vegetables and meats and he delivered them to six needy families in two villages. He brought medicine and medical supplies to four families in another two. He was also able to find some old farming equipment he then gave to a farmer, one who supplied food for a good many families, and deemed that deed as his last duty before dragging himself through the servants' entrance, up to his room, and collapsing into his bed.
And now another villager was in dire need.
The servants had already been in the hall and set it up for him. He would be unnoticed as he slipped into the chair that had been left there. He could make out the words as Hawklin pleaded with the king.
"Please, your majesty, I was told this medicine would cure her."
"But you cannot pay for it. That is the problem."
"I'll work it off. I'll do anything. I can come to the castle..."
"I need no help here," the king huffed.
Joron, although he could not see him, thought his father sounded different, strained, almost as if it were an effort to talk.
"Do not be so insolent as to assume that I will give you a position here just because you are in need. You are obviously lazy and refuse to provide for your family."
"Sire!" Hawklin's tone was shocked.
"Be gone. If you have no way to pay for what you want, then I have wasted my time with you." There was no talking for a moment, a sudden coughing spasm coming over the king. When it passed, he spoke again. "Unless..."
"S-sire?" Hope sounded in Hawklin's voice.
"You have another daughter, do you not? An older one?"
"Yes. Her...her name is Naka, Naka Tuso. She is engaged to be married, sire."
"Yes, Naka. I have seen her... If you are willing to send Naka to the castle, I am sure I can find many positions for her."
Again, Joron could not see it, but guessed the king wore an evil smile. Joron closed his eyes in disgust and shame. Now it made sense why the king had allowed for this "extra" meeting to take place. Sick or not, his father's sexual appetite continued to rage. Hawklin was now most likely battling with himself, trying desperately to believe the king meant a job and not what he knew to be the truth. Still, the man's words were odd to Joron when he spoke.
"Your majesty...are you..."
There were sounds of gasps, movement and murmurings, then silence. Joron sighed as the silence continued, wondering why, when Kinnabe touched his shoulder from behind. Joron turned around and saw Kinnabe motioning for him to follow. He rose quickly and walked out of the room into the hallway.
"What happened?" he whispered.
"The king... He swooned...passed out and...and was carried from the room."
"He passed out? What about Hawklin? How will he be granted the medicine now?" Joron shook his head in disbelief, then closed his eyes in guilt. His first thought should have been for his father and his illness. The king's collapsing while sitting on the throne was new, which meant he was obviously much worse.
His father's worsening condition was also the reason Joron's brother, Prince Diagus, had returned to the castle for the first time in over three years. Diagus would be the next king when his father passed away, an event that seemed closer than ever now.
Joron turned again as he heard a noise from the main
hall. Someone was coming. " Run!"
Both Joron and Kinnabe took off running back toward the servants' quarters. They heard a guard yelling at them but they both knew they would not be chased. Joron simply did not want to be recognized by any of his father's personal guards. They crashed into the kitchen, shocking the kitchen servants. They slammed the door behind them, laughing at the fear and shock of almost being caught. Joron turned back to Kinnabe, once again serious. "How old is Hawklin's sick daughter?"
Kinnabe answered immediately "I believe Kalen is six, my prince."
Joron shook his head slowly, once again ashamed of his father. "Kalen? Such a pretty name and only six. Do we know what medicine she needs?"
"Yes. With your permission, I will retrieve all the necessary potions from the infirmary."
"Good man. Tell Hawklin he will have his medicine but not to wait for it. If he does, it'll look suspicious. Let me have a couple more hours of sleep and I'll deliver it to him at the entrance to Ice Dragon Pass. Tell him to wait for me there."
"The entrance to the pass? Prince, why so far?"
"Please, Kinnabe, it's necessary. I won't feel comfortable if it was any closer than that with him. Besides, I want a couple of hours of sleep and I don't want Hawklin to stop anywhere on his way home, just in case. He would naturally stop at the entrance for the night, so that's the best place to meet him."
Kinnabe frowned, but Joron knew he wouldn't argue further. He knew from experience it was futile to do so. "I understand. I don't like it but I understand. I will deliver the message and will wake you in a few hours. The entrance is nearly a day's journey. You'll need as much rest as possible."
Joron smiled. A few hours would be heaven. He turned to the servants. "Is there any toy I could take for her, too--something to cheer her? A doll, perhaps?"
