Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2)

by Tamara H Hartl

  Copyright 2015 by Tamara Hartl

  Lexin’s Quest

  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 permission

  in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who

  may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any

  resemblance to current or local events or

  to living persons is entirely coincidental.

  Hartl, Tamara

  p. cm. ISBN: 978-0-9963146-2-6

  Fic Har PS 3563 M4

  Editor-in-Chief: Mindy Reed, The Authors’ Assistant

  Cover and Book Design: Rebecca Byrd Arthur

  Published by Dragon Mountain Press, Shiner, TX

  Printed in USA

  MORE PRAISE for the

  Knights of Kismera series

  and author Tamara Hartl

  “I never thought I would get excited about dragons and mythical beasts duking it out with people and other minions. I locked in, reading until I became bleary-eyed.”

  — Robert Z.

  “The Knights of Kismera series’ unique story is so new and captivating it left me wanting more.”

  — C.L. Grumbles

  “The story is so vivid with detail I feel like I’m in this wonderful magical story. Can’t wait for the next book!”

  — Flora Hernadez

  “This book is a great combination of romance, adventure and fantasy. The interaction between the characters weaves a spell-binding tale of adventure and romance.”

  — Melissa

  “It can’t be defined as just a romance, adventure, action, thriller or fantasy. It is definitely all of these and much much more.”

  — Mariah

  Dedication

  This book is for my husband Ritch

  and my daughters Jenn and Cassidy.

  You are my world,

  Love,

  T

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sneak Preview from Book 3: Chapter One

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  The dream had been so vivid that Lexin woke to the iron taste of blood and a sheen of sweat on his naked flesh. The roll and twist of muscle, the weight of a sword, a faceless enemy engaged in combat, the open grass of the plain covered in struggling combatants—these things Lexin had seen and felt clearly as he dreamed.

  The chaos slowly left him as a timid knocking at his chamber door worked its way into his subconscious. Slower to leave was the anger and adrenaline of battle lust, making him feel slightly nauseous.

  “What?” he yelled, and then growled low, hot and potent in his throat.

  The timid knock was followed by a timid voice, “Lord Lexin, our king has requested your presence in his chambers.”

  He rubbed his eyes with a large hand and heaved a heavy sigh. “Now, I suppose,” he called in a gentler tone. He rested his hand over his eyes while he waited for a reply.

  “As soon as you may, my lord…” The answer was followed by a pause. “I am truly sorry, my lord,” the servant added.

  Lexin’s sleep-fogged mind finally recognized the voice on the other side of his door. “Thank you, Garth, but ‘tis not your doing. Please tell our liege that I will attend him shortly.”

  There was no point in asking what the High King Yeager wanted. Yeager had taken a terrible fall from his horse three moons back and since the fall, he suffered some sort of paranoia, most of which was directed at Lexin. Even the servants saw it and felt sad for Lexin.

  The odds were, that by the time Lexin arrived, it would be for something other than the original summons.

  “Yes, my lord,” the man Garth acknowledged, then his footsteps faded away from the chamber door.

  Lexin rose from his bed and went to one of the two large windows in his room. He opened the shutters allowing the cool air to flow in, which raised goose bumps on his bare flesh as he checked the sky. Pink tinted the east as the sun began to rise. He had barely slept two hours.

  He clenched his fists and then regretted that action. The dull pain in his left hand came from a barely healed wound. Lexin raised his hand to peer at it in the coming light and spread his fingers, staring at them. The little finger was missing, having been lost even with his palm. The newly healed skin was still pink and stretched tight. The tip of the next finger was missing at the end knuckle. It thankfully did not plague him as the other did.

  He thanked his deity, the Lion God Arahtok, for not losing that whole finger or he would have lost all his skill with a sword, although he had to learn to rebalance the weapon since the injury. It would have been disastrous for him if he had lost the whole hand, especially since he was left-handed. Lexin was most deadly with a dagger however, and used it right-handed with ambidextrous skill.

  To a warrior, scars were common and accepted as mementos, marks to brag about or to remind of a mistake. But to lose what made him deadly could drastically change a life. In Lexin’s case, the loss of a skill could easily change his position within the castle as well. He was King Yeager’s war chief— a leader of men.

  Right now he was exhausted from chasing raiders, as well as the specters of a man’s wounded mind.

  Lexin clenched his fist once more, welcoming the pain this time, using it to renew his anger and bring himself fully awake. He turned from the window, not bothering to close it, and began to dress, knowing if he did not arrive to attend his king soon, Yeager would fear he had abandoned him and cause panic throughout the castle.

  It had happened twice before. The first was when Lexin was recovering from the wound to his hand. He had also been hit with arrows in the shoulder and thigh, taken while chasing a small band of raiders. He had been foolish and distracted that day, and it had almost led to disaster for him as well as his men.

  The second time, Lexin had been out with a group of warriors on a routine patrol. Servants were hiding and Lexin’s mother had been in tears when he finally returned.

  Growling again, this time in frustration, he balled his hand in a fist once more and left his chamber to seek his liege, his booted footsteps sounding loudly in the empty hall.

  Lexin was admitted into the King’s chamber by Yeager’s personal manservant. He entered the room after the servant hurried out, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light. He found his king seated in a large chair in front of a cold hearth. Lexin went to kneel
on one knee in front of Yeager.

  “My liege,” he said, and bowed his head waiting for Yeager to acknowledge him.

  The older man turned his gaze from the fireplace to look upon Lexin. “Rise, Lexin. Come and sit with me.”

  Lexin obeyed and went to sit in the chair opposite Yeager. Yeager did not seem to be in any hurry to have a conversation as his attention turned once more to the hearth.

  Lexin sat quietly, taking that time to study his liege. Yeager had seen fifty and two summers, but looked older. Years of grief had aged him harshly.

  The two men were both lion-kin: Yeager of a direct line to the oldest and most powerful clan of Lionblade and Lexin to the Gwendh clan, another high-ranking family. Gwendh was from the Werren language, meaning ‘defender,’ a skill for which his clan was well known.

  With both men being lion-kin, they shared similar characteristics. Each was tall with the amber eyes of a lion, although Lexin’s were a darker shade, almost a golden brown. Both had the thick mane of long tawny blond hair, although Yeager’s was heavily streaked with gray.

  Yeager’s hair now hung in disarray over his shoulders, showing he had spent a restless night. Finally, he gathered himself enough to recall the reason for Lexin’s presence. “I have need of you, Lexin,” he said, his voice deep and rough, sounding as if he had to force it.

  Lexin gave a brief nod of his head. “What is it you would have of me, my lord?”

  “I had a dream last night. It has given me a small measure of hope.” Yeager focused completely on Lexin now.

  “Yes, my lord?” Lexin asked politely, secretly wishing Yeager would hurry so he might return to his bed…at least for a short while.

  “I dreamed of my child. The one lost to me on the day of his birth.”

  “How is it I can be of help, my lord, for a dream?” Lexin replied. He felt a suspicious uneasiness creep along his spine.

  Yeager paused while he poured each of them coffee which had been supplied earlier, before Lexin had answered his summons.

  He handed a mug to Lexin and then sat back with his own. “Your father was my most trusted and closest friend, Lexin. I knew him well, as he did me.” The older man looked at his war chief with sadness in his eyes. “You are a man now yourself, one to make your father proud.”

  Lexin nodded at the compliment. “Thank you, my lord,” he said. Please Yeager, hurry this along. I am exhausted, he thought.

  “In this dream,” Yeager finally said, “my child was a grown man…about your age. Find him for me, Lexin.”

  His tiredness fled as Lexin completely forgot his manners. “What?” he exclaimed. “I cannot find what does not exist!”

  Yeager leaned forward slightly in his chair. “I know that he does— I know it in my heart. I heard his cries at his birth, but I saw him only for a few moments before the women made me leave when Seaha began to bleed badly. I never saw him again and they told me he had died, but I never saw his body. I know now I have been deceived, but I do not understand why. He lives, Lexin, but I know not where. If anyone can find him, it would be you.”

  Lexin sat very still for a moment and then bared his teeth in frustration, showing another lion-kin trait—lion-like canine teeth.

  “I know what some say of me, but I swear I am not insane at this moment, Lexin. My son was taken from me. All were told he died alongside his mother as she birthed him. Tonight, I saw him very clearly. I could not tell where he was.” Yeager looked at Lexin with desperation in his eyes. “I beg you. Please.”

  “My lord,” Lexin began, unsure how to continue, although the plea in Yeager’s voice tugged at him. “I would not know where to start a search, or even what your son would look like, especially as a grown man.”

  “I called him Greer before they took him and I saw that he had a birthmark on the back of his right hand. I remember the mark looked similar to a star and it was about this big.” Yeager made a small circle with his fingers. “The healer and Seaha’s maid made me leave when they cleaned the babe and her body. So much blood there was…,” Yeager covered his eyes with his free hand.

  Lexin realized then the depth of Yeager’s love for his mate, still painful to his king after all these years.

  Yeager uncovered his eyes as he took a shuddering breath. “My son would have been taken far from here, someplace where a lion-kin child would not be harmed. That is all I know. Lexin, go to your cousins for aid, but do not tell many. If Greer was taken, his life, and perhaps yours, may be in danger.”

  Lexin wanted to believe Yeager’s words came from a grief damaged mind, but found he could not. He sat stunned for a long moment. Finally, he looked into Yeager’s eyes. “I will try, my lord. I will need some time to prepare. I must find someone to lead the men in my absence, and to talk to my mother of my leaving. I would wish to talk to those who attended Seaha at her birthing, if I may. Using discretion of course.”

  Yeager gave a small smile for the first time since Lexin had been summoned. “Act as you must, Lexin. I trust your judgment or I would not have asked this of you.”

  “My lord, I would ask something of you in return, if I might,” Lexin said, and then hesitated.

  Yeager looked calmly at him and gave a nod for him to continue.

  “If I find your son, I would ask to be released from your service,” Lexin stated, waiting for Yeager’s protest. He was shocked when none came.

  “Where do you wish to go?” his king asked, mildly.

  “I would wish to return to Oralia, to serve there,” Lexin answered. “There is someone….”

  “A special woman?” Yeager asked, another smile crossing his lips. “I had wondered why none of our women seemed to interest you of late. You did not have that problem the last time you were here.”

  Lexin flushed slightly at Yeager’s words.

  “I see I am right. Get her and bring her to Bellmore. You know I would welcome any woman you chose.”

  “It is not that simple, my lord. She is the kinswoman of the Lady Ki’s bond mate, the MacKinnon, and they are very close. I could not ask her to leave her family.”

  “Do not ask the girl. Take her,” Yeager exclaimed. “She is just a human.”

  “I have found her to be as fierce as any Werre woman,” Lexin said, referring to the name the lion-kin used for their kind. “She would slay me in my sleep.” Or brain me senseless with stones, he thought and chuckled in remembrance.

  “No. If she will have me, I think I must woo her. Cerise is a beautiful, intelligent woman. She may have bonded with another by now as I have been away from Oralia for eight moons. That is a long time for a spirited woman. There was nothing to hold her to me when I left. I do not know what I will find.”

  Yeager saw something in the young man’s expression that reminded him of his own youth and the passion of a strong love. This woman might be just the woman for my chief, he thought.

  He smiled at Lexin, “I will grant you your release. And Lexin,” he said, “if you fail in this quest, you may still go to your woman. What will you do if she will not have you?”

  Lexin looked up at Yeager’s words. “I will return to Bellmore and serve the rest of my days here.” He stood and went to kneel in front of Yeager. “I ask your leave now, my lord. I have much to do before I may start the search.”

  Yeager put a hand on Lexin’s shoulder. “You have served me well, Lexin, and put up with my sometimes-muddled mind. I thank you for that and I thank you for this last request.” He moved his hand to the top of Lexin’s lowered head. “May Arahtok watch over you and keep you well.”

  Lexin raised his head when Yeager removed his hand. “May he also grant me success in my search, my lord.” He rose to his feet and with a final nod of respect, left Yeager’s chambers.

  Chapter Two

  Unable to rest after his audience with Yeager, Lexin ate breakfast in the main hall and returned to his chamber to shave and change before he met with his mother.

  Stan
ding in front of his mirror, he gazed at his own reflection. He was tall—just over six feet with broad shoulders. His tawny hair hung past his shoulder blades, a small section braided on one side of his face in the warrior style. He wore a clean white linen shirt, long sleeved and laced in front. He left the lacing loosely tied. He donned brown doeskin breeches and tall black boots.

  Lexin left his sword and belt hanging on a peg by the door but tucked a deadly looking dagger into the top of one boot. It went against his nature to go completely unarmed, even within the safety of Bellmore. There was no weapon in his arsenal, however, that would protect him from the sharp tongue of his mother. Satisfied that his appearance would meet her approval, he left his chamber.

  Lexin paused before knocking on Muril’s door and took a deep breath as he prepared himself. After brushing at his shirt, he knocked firmly on the door. He was bid to enter and did so, moving to where his mother sat in a window seat, her sewing in her lap.

  Her chambers were large and kept spotlessly clean. Ornate tapestries hung on the walls, many stitched by Muril herself. The furniture was feminine and delicate, always making Lexin exercise caution around it.

  He leaned down to place a kiss to her smooth cheek. “Mother,” he greeted.

  Muril placed a hand on his arm. “Lexin, it is kind of you to visit your mother. I have not seen you in days. How are your wounds?”

  Lexin moved to sit across from her, his lips curling in amusement at her reproachful tone. “I am healed and well, thank you. But you oversaw the healers yourself; you know how I fared.”

  “I was referring to afterward when you returned to your duties.” She gave a feigned look of hurt. “You have forgotten your poor old mother.”

  Lexin let his cool gaze rest on Muril. With her pale golden hair in elaborate braids, her piercing deep amber-colored eyes and beautiful face, she looked younger than her true years. Ambition and greed for power had left her looking cold, however.

  “I never forget you, Mother. Yeager has kept me busy at my duties. You know that. I am here now to see how you fare.” He gave her a fond smile.