by Meg Cowley
Contents
The Tainted Crown: The First Book of Caledan
Books of Caledan Free Goodies
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Map of Caledan
Zaki
Soren
Zaki
Behan
Edmund
Soren
Demara
Behan
Edmund
Eve
Edmund
Soren
Zaki
Eve
Edmund
Eve
Soren
Zaki
Eve
Soren
Eve
Soren
Zaki
Demara
Eve
Soren
Edmund
Eve
Soren
Soren
Zaki
Dane
Eve
Soren
Eve
Soren
Eve
Soren
Luke
Eve
Soren
Eve
Soren
Eve
Soren
Demara
Soren
Eve
Soren
Zaki
Soren
Eve
Soren
Thanks for reading
Books of Caledan Free Goodies
The Brooding Crown: The Second Book of Caledan
Soren
Zaki
Eve
About the author
The Tainted Crown
The First Book of Caledan
Meg Cowley
Claim your goodies here!
Second edition
© 2015 Meg Cowley
Cover design © 2014 Meg Cowley
All characters, places and events are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places or events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored or distributed in any form, without prior written permission of the publisher.
www.megcowley.co.uk
For Stuart
Amor meus amplior quam verba est
Thanks to Hazel, Thaleia, Tori, John, Dave, Andy, and everyone else who helped to make The Tainted Crown the best it could be and encouraged me along the way.
Thanks to Rachel Aaron, Joanna Penn and Joel Friedlander for their inspiration and guidance on productivity, indie publishing and print formatting.
Zaki
Zaki struck Naisa from behind without mercy, flinching at the sickening crunch of metal upon bone. She dropped to the floor with an exclamation of surprise and pain cut short. Breathing heavily as he raised the candelabra for another blow, Zaki stood over her, but he stayed his hand. She lay stunned, her legs trapped and tangled in dress folds as bright blood oozed from her head.
“It’s true,” she tried to say, but her mouth would not obey her and he heard only a moan. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, soaking into her hair and mingling with her blood. Zaki lowered the candelabra and it fell from his hand with a dull thump onto the carpet as he watched her.
“It had to be this way, sister.” This is your own fault Naisa. You rushed me to this. I would have bought a clean death for you.
He couldn’t be sure whether he spoke to himself, to her, or to nobody. Naisa moaned again. It was fainter this time. In a few minutes, she had stilled. He leaned closer. No breath. No pulse.
Zaki kicked the candelabra out of his path and strode from the room, pausing to close the door on his way out. He need not have bothered. Naisa’s rooms were devoid of servants and guards, as he had arranged. Whilst Pandora city bustled outside, his men were silencing the rest of the castle with every pace he took.
“Long live King Zaki,” he murmured to himself, savouring the sound of it.
~
Standing upon the dais that evening, Zaki surveyed the crowd of battle-stained men before him.
“You may report,” Zaki commanded, trying not to gag at the stench of sweat and worse things. “Sir Loren, begin.” Zaki drummed his fingers on his folded arms with impatience and nerves, hoping for good news.
“The west guard folded, Your Royal Highness. The south guard are ours and the east guard caused us great losses before we subdued them,” Sir Loren recited.
“Their losses?”
“Heavy. At least half. A quarter more captured. The rest surrendered.”
“Good. Imprison them all. Those who prove loyal may return to service. Our losses?”
“Not so heavy as theirs. We had the element of surprise and more men than they.”
“Good. Next?” He spoke to each lord in turn, his smile growing. Pandora was his already; his main enemies were mostly dead and only pockets of resistance remained within the castle. For the most part it seemed, the civilians remained oblivious to the chaos there.
“What of the traitor? Where is Soren?” Zaki asked last of all. The hall fell silent. “Where is he? One of you must have found him by now,” he insisted. No answer came. “Damn it! The boy has killed our queen and you have not yet seized him?” he shouted.
Few looked back with knowing faces; but then few were trusted with the truth.
Lord Argyle spoke. “My son informs me that His Roya- the traitor may be in the royal wood.”
“Then, Lord Argyle, I suggest you and your son gather some men and go and search there for him,” Zaki said through gritted teeth. Do these dolts have no ingenuity? “Reynard, join them.” Zaki named a man he knew he could trust to accompany them. “As for the rest of you, search harder! Hunt him down! I care not if he lives or dies; find him!”
The hall teemed with bodies scattering at his command as his retinue fell into place behind him with a snap of his fingers. “We’ll search the castle again. I’m not about to pin everything on Argyle’s word. Do we have the girl?”
“Aye, sir,” a man replied.
“Keep her out of the way.”
Soren
“Seize him!” The three men raced towards Prince Soren with weapons drawn and battle cries ringing in their throats.
Soren froze beneath the portcullis. He struggled to draw his blade. The assailants were almost upon him when a fierce cry announced the presence of another. They turned, for a fatal moment of distraction.
“Prince Soren!” the mounted figure’s voice echoed through his helmet as he charged towards the fray.
Soren moved despite his confusion. His mount plunged forward. Soren slashed the first man’s side as his horse kicked, stunning the second. Before the third could react, the stranger had dispatched him, stabbing the second who lay dazed on the floor, just as Soren cut down the first. The stranger removed his helm to reveal the sweaty, battle-stained face of the queen’s chief advisor.
“Sir Edmund!” exclaimed Soren, keeping his dripping sword ready. His horse pranced, nostrils flaring and mouth frothing. “These men wear the mark of House Varan – what’s the meaning of this? Whoa Miri. Calm, girl.” He tried to soothe the agitated mare beneath him with shaking hands as his heart pounded.
“We must leave. Now,” said Edmund. The prince did not move. “Do you trust me?” Edmund pressed, leaning forward in his saddle.
Soren nodded.
“Then do as I say. Ride with me now!" Edmund urged his horse into a canter through the gate.
“What’s happened? What of my family?” called the boy after the man. Edmund did not reply save to press his stallion harder. So
ren dug his heels into Miri to keep apace and asked again, with no success.
“Why do you return so early from the hunt? Where are your guard?” Edmund asked the prince grimly as they rode through the secluded grounds.
“A boar gored Sir Hark’s son, so we abandoned the hunt to see him safely home. My men took him to the healing houses.” Soren would have grimaced at the memory, yet the sight of his friend with half his thigh hanging loose paled into insignificance.
Instead of the boy’s agonised face, the man he had just killed sprang into his mind, his eyes full of pain, hate, and determination as he dropped to the ground, life fading. I just killed a man… but he was trying to kill me. Both concepts were incomprehensible to Soren.
“Well thank the heavens you arrived not a moment sooner or later,” replied Edmund, distracting Soren. “Fate delivered you to my hands today."
Through the landscaped trees, the perimeter wall of the castle grounds came into view. Here, the wall that eventually joined Pandora’s great city walls was a mere ten feet tall and four feet thick, defended more by the precipice beyond it than its own strength.
Edmund jumped down from his horse with an agility belying his age – Soren had never seen the fifty-year-old move with such speed. To Soren’s astonishment, Edmund scrabbled at the ivy that grew in vast quantities along the wall, sweeping it aside and ripping it from the wall in bunches. Soren wondered if he had been right to trust Edmund without question.Before the thought could materialise, Edmund turned to him with a frantic expression.
“Come help! We must find the door.” Edmund wandered along the wall as he searched through the ivy. Soren frowned to himself. Brushing aside his bafflement, dismounted to help.
“Aha!”
Metal rattled, wood clunked and the rusty lock screeched as Edmund threw his weight backwards to pull the heavy wooden door open.
“Follow me.” Edmund made to lead his horse by the bridle through the wall. As he moved, Soren seized his forearm.
“I just killed a man!” Soren exclaimed. “A man wearing colours loyal to the throne, yet trying to harm me. Why?”
“I will explain, but I cannot now. Please come with me; it is not safe for you here. I will beg you if I must,” Edmund implored.
Soren released him, surprised at the fervour from the usually taciturn man. “What of my family?”
“I will explain.” Edmund beckoned him again as Soren faced him, uncertain. “Trust me.”
Soren considered the unwavering faith his mother placed in Edmund. He was swayed by that, yet it was with a sinking heart and growing unease that Soren followed Edmund through the gate.
It was a perilous climb down the cliffs in the fading light: impossible but for the narrow ledge that guided men and horses down. Soren was distracted from the blood – someone else’s – that speckled the hem of his fine jacket by Miri, who had to be coaxed, pushed and shoved almost all the way down. The horses skittered on the narrow track, taking fright every time their passage dislodged small scatterings of stones that cascaded down the precipice to their side.
Every time the horses balked, Soren’s heart leapt into his mouth, fearing that he would be pushed off the path, but before the sun had fully set they reached the ground. Edmund wasted no time in mounting, warning Soren to take care on the uneven ground. Soren mumbled with dull acquiescence. The descent had been excruciatingly slow and he was tiring after his intense day.
“At least we have time, for tonight, to travel slowly,” Edmund said. “No one will seek us here.” Over the drumming hooves, Soren did not hear.
Two leagues to the north lay the dark bulk of woodlands that Edmund made for. As the cooler shade of the tree canopy enveloped them, their shadowy figures melted into the forest, the thick cover claustrophobic in contrast to the open, rolling knolls they had just left. Soren halted.
Framed by the trees on the fringes of the forest was the vast expanse of water, silver in the moonlight, to Soren’s right, the sweeping plains to his left. In between lay the great hill upon which the city of Pandora stood, a huge bulk in the darkness covered with pinpricks of light. Nothing seemed amiss. The night was tranquil. Soren followed Edmund to be swallowed by the forest.
They rode until Soren was lost in the dark. The older man had been silent for hours and rode so fast that Soren was forced to push Miri to her limits, despite his worry that she would stumble and lame herself on a stray root or rock. Soren was too exhausted to question Edmund’s urgency. Instead, when they stopped in a hollow at the base of a rocky outcrop, he dumped Miri’s saddle and bags onto the floor, turned her loose, and slumped against a tree, snoring.
~
Midmorning sunlight streamed into the small clearing where they had slept. It was late spring, the fifth month of the year, and the sound of animal and insect life could be heard in all directions. This place was far from any of the man-made roads that linked the hubs of civilisation together – on any other day, a tranquil haven.
Soren awoke, disorientated and groaning at the stiffness of his body. He was surprised to find Edmund deep in concentration attending a small, smokeless fire. Soren took half a breath, about to question why Edmund had joined his hunting trip, when he recalled the previous day’s events.
Edmund turned at the sound of his movement and met his measured glare.
“Your Majesty.” Edmund addressed him formally.
Soren opened his mouth to reply, pausing as he registered what Edmund had called him. “Your Majesty?” Soren questioned, unsettled by the apprehension he saw in Edmund’s eyes. “I’m ‘Your Royal Highness’, no more,” he said, however he knew Edmund would not have said it mistakenly. “Explain yourself.”
“It pains me to inform you thus.” Edmund gestured at their surroundings. He stalled, mouth gaping as though he could not find the words. “Your mother has passed away, God rest her soul.”
“Impossible,” Soren said. Yet, he knew the strange events of the night before would not have been without dire cause. Soren tried to frown, but his face had frozen. “I saw her yesterday - she was well.”
“I saw her… body… with my own eyes.” Edmund rubbed his hand across his face, dragging tears away from his eyes.
Soren could not move; his head held a thousand questions and yet emptiness.
“You want to know what happened,” Edmund said, “but you do not know how to begin asking. Am I correct, sire?”
Soren nodded, still not believing him.
“Then I will start where I must – at the beginning,” said the older man. “Forgive me, I do not wish to cause you pain, but I will not lie to you. Your uncle Zaki has been moving in shaded circles. I am sure you have noticed his repeated attempts to disrupt your grandfather’s peace treaty with the southern countries. Your mother thought little of it, believing him simply to be disagreeable at times, however to my mind he is too sly.
“I set a watch upon him although your mother disagreed with my actions, believing not a bad word against him. Only my long and trusted relationship in her council led her to accept my wishes. I am thankful that even though for her in the end it was all for nothing, you are saved for the kingdom.”
Edmund paused for breath, whilst Soren stared at him, silent. “We watched him for many cycles of the moon: his comings and goings, his visits and visitors. All for nought, it seemed, until one day he met with an esquire of his wife’s father. King Harad has ever sought to add us to his growing kingdoms, even since your mother pledged Zaki to Demara. She intended it as a sign of our allegiance and equality but not of our submission.
“Nevertheless, Harad realises how close he is to Caledan’s throne and he is an ambitious man: well matched to Zaki it would seem. The esquire left behind some correspondence, which your uncle failed to dispose of quickly enough by his own hand and our eyes within his household procured this for me at great personal danger. I could not believe my eyes, reading of the king’s wishes to subvert Caledan so that Zaki may gain the throne and cause Caledan’s r
oyal bloodline to fall into Harad’s lineage.
“Harad means to send men under his banners immediately after Zaki gains the throne to ensure success, though no details of how Zaki would achieve this were laid out. I took this straight to your mother, presuming as always her swift action would curtail his treacherous plan. To my surprise, her denial was total; she could not comprehend the depths of his treachery. Who would believe their own brother capable of such a thing?”
“And what then?” the young man questioned in a low voice, hardly daring to ask as he averted his eyes. “When was this? I heard nothing. I understood that uncle held the old views that women should not inherit, if only to further his own prospects but surely he wasn’t so evil as to act upon it?” Soren shook his head in a daze.
“My apologies sire,” Edmund said. “This occurred yesterday. I had to act with utmost haste and took the letter straight to your mother, as I could not be sure Zaki would not miss it.
“She commanded me to leave her. I rallied the high council, warning them that we would most likely need to swiftly secure the throne now events had progressed apace. I presumed she would ask for your council, or others. I did not realise you were absent until much later.
“After that, things blur. I called the Royal Guard to arms in secret, in case there was need of their help, but I believe Zaki had huge support from some of the council members and their retinues. As your mother summoned him to her chambers that afternoon, I presume to reassure herself this could not possibly be true, it was clear he had done the same with his own men. They rose too quickly for it to be otherwise. He must have decided that then was the time to act.
“I hastened back to your mother’s chambers, begging her to let me sit in on the meet, to protect her, but she would hear no word of it with her guards and attendants already about her. She sent me away and all I could do was urge the head of the guard to join me to protect her. I did not realise she would call him to her, alone. By the time we returned, it was too late. Her chambers were empty and Zaki was gone.”
