The Pentacle War: Book One - Hearts In Cups

by Candace Gylgayton

  "No, Ian, I don't mind at all," she replied earnestly, pulling his head down and meeting his lips. "I promise that you will never be unwanted."

  "Nor will you be, my dear Angharad."

  Pentarin Palace lay sleeping in a web of moonlight. Guards walked the city streets, bright and empty under a full moon. A portion of the population had returned after the Duke of Mirvanovir's army had left, and the city had settled into a masque of its old routine. Goods were sold, many to the soldiers who remained in control of the city, and farmers whose crops had not been burnt or trampled by armies brought their wares to the market place. But things were not as they once were. It was a city occupied by an invader's army and people moved with suspicion, ready to flee again at the first sign of renewed trouble.

  From the palace, the Duchess of Mirvanovir ruled. Most of the former palace servants had left or been supplanted by ones from Mirvanovir. For the time being, all of the wings that had formerly housed members and staff of the Great Houses had been emptied and sealed shut. Only Mirvanovir's private quarters and the main halls of the palace were currently being used.

  A portion of the city's inhabitants consisted of a group of minor nobles residing in the palace who had not fled when the city was taken but stayed on, preferring to bid welcome to the new rulers and so preserve their comfortable way of living. This group formed the small court that Rashara now presided over. She knew very well why they were still here, but she received a certain enjoyment from their willingness to flatter her and abase themselves in order to remain in her good graces. At first she hoped to find an interim companion or plaything among them until Blaise or Niall returned. Unfortunately, she found none of them sufficiently amusing to engage her interest. Besides, she now had other things to occupy her time and her thoughts.

  Discouraged after her final interview with Malvasius, Rashara resorted to the compendium of notebooks that she had gathered over the years dealing with matters arcane. Many useful entries were to be found in the work she had done together with Malvasius when she was still his student at the Scholastium, but it was from the odd and esoteric books that her father had collected and bequeathed to her at his death that she put together the core of her spell. From both of these sources she had learned of powers existing outside of the world as it was known, and she now felt that she had gathered sufficient information to enable her to tap into those ambiguously hinted at powers. Indications of the enormous strength and alien darkness that such powers might be allied to were also found, but she was convinced that her skill was such that if whatever she contacted proved to be too powerful or malevolent, she could break the spell and sever the contact.

  Tonight Rashara locked herself in her private room, warded it against all outside intrusion, resolved to attempt to make contact with those energies she had thus far only read about. From a shelf she carefully took down a small covered pot whose contents she had spent many weeks accruing and preparing. The smell of the greasy, dark sludge that filled the pot was repellent in the extreme, but she had grown used to it and, after wrinkling her nose distastefully when the lid was removed, she schooled herself to ignore the odor and not think of the ingredients comprising it. Though touching it was even less appealing, she did not flinch as she dipped her white fingers into it and began to draw. For a long while she knelt on the floor, labouriously inscribing the circle and the strange arcane glyphs of power that she had discovered in her extensive studying. When she finished her work, using all of the contents of the pot, she washed her hands many times in a bowl with sweet-soap before she sat down in her chair to survey her work. Even before she began the incantation that would activate the circle at her feet she could feel the latent power there. Calmly taking the necessary measured breaths, she effortlessly slipped into a light trance. A trace of queasiness at what she was about to try was ignored as she told herself that it was too late for superstitious qualms. At worst the powers would not be able to function in this world. When she had reached the level of calm necessary, she began her incantation. The words had been gleaned from one of her father's old books and were in an ancient, long-disused language. Monotonously she repeated the chant and cast out with her mind for a hint of power.

  When the contact came, it was so violent and unexpected that she was literally flung out of her chair. Instinctively she tried to evade the inky blackness that began to flow across the arcane bridge she had built, but to no avail. Lying on the floor, taking deep, ragged breaths, she felt a cold darkness invading her mind with a terrifying intimacy. Powerless, she lay there in the grip of something far more alien than she could ever have imagined. Not able to move or scream, she was forced to endure this ultimate invasion of her being. Then it withdrew, back to a neutral place on the arcane bridge that flared and pulsed within the confines of the circle she had inscribed on the floor. She was left retching and shivering on the cold floor.

  "You called me," a voice rang in her head and she knew that it belonged to whatever had just possessed her. "Why?"

  Too stunned and frightened, she lay curled up on the floor shuddering and unable reply.

  It waited patiently and then spoke again. "This is a corporeal world. You seek power and I am here."

  "Who or what are you?" Rashara summoned enough volition to cry out in terror.

  "I exist outside the boundaries of your world. You created a flaw in the structure of reality in which I exist. You have called me and I am here." The voice resounded through her ravaged mind.

  Pulling herself into a sitting position, she looked around the room. The arcane wards she had set were still in place and the room seemed much the same except for a darkness in the center of the circle of light that her eyes could not seem to quite focus on. Gingerly she regained her feet and tottered forward to collapse in her chair.

  The nightmare quality of what was occurring confused and disoriented her. She closed her eyes and felt the presence at a distance from her. The power she felt behind that presence was staggering. Her mind wandered. To possess that much power... she could do anything. There would be no limits. She could be the single most powerful force in the Pentarchy. Not even the Archmage himself could oppose her! Ideas and images swirled seductively through her mind. All that could be hers. A disquieting tendril of concern crossed her mind but was gone before she could make sense of its import.

  "What must I do for your aid?" her voice croaked.

  "Little enough. I am not of a corporeal world. It has been a very long time since I visited such a world. I find your type of world to be...exciting. All I ask is a certain, minimal degree of contact with it." The voice in her mind was now soothing her with its reassurance. "We shall make a compact, you and I. You will keep this arcane bridge open, I will teach you how, and from my world I shall lend you my power and watch what you do with it."

  Something nagged at the edges of her mind, but she was as unable to concentrate on it as she focused her eyes on the darkness in the arcane portal. "Earlier you...?" Her body spasmed in remembered terror.

  "You came into my world...unexpectedly. I did not understand. It was a mistake." The voice now was seductive, completely reasonable.

  "Yes, I see," she heard her voice say. "What must I do?"

  "I shall guide you, step by step," came the reply.

  The Pentacle War – Appendix

  The Great Houses of the Pentarchy

  Sandovar

  Ruling family: ap Gryffyd

  Lord Percamber ap Morna, acting Regent of the Pentarchy

  Prince Brian Gwydion ap Gryffyd, heir to House Sandovar and the High Kingship of the Pentarchy

  Lord Michael Talen, Recorder for the Pentacle Council

  Lord Renard Istan, Captain of the Royal Guard of Pentarin

  Lord Gerard, Commander of the Royal Escort

  Langstraad

  Ruling family: ap Lir

  Head of House: Lady Hollin Morwen Medicat ap Lir, Duchess of Langstraad

  Lord Ian Branwell de Medicat, Hollin’s cousin, heir
to the Barony of Medicat

  Lord Alister de Medicat, Baron de Medicat, grandfather of both Hollin and Ian

  Lady Eloise de Challis, Baroness de Medicat, Alister's wife, grandmother of both Hollin and Ian

  Squire Alaric, personal secretary to the Duchess of Langstraad

  Sir Benedict Heath, Seneschal of Castle Lir, Commander of the duchess' personal guard

  Dame Edwinna Heath, Chatelainne of Castle Lir, wife to Benedict

  Sir Griswold, Swordmaster of Castle Lir

  Sir Owain, Master of Horse of Castle Lir

  Lady Inara, first lady-in-waiting to Hollin

  Lady Celia, lady-in-waiting to Hollin

  Lady Clowen, Chatelainne of Langstraad's quarters in Pentarin Palace

  Drimnor, healer at Castle Lir

  Arain ap Llywellen, huntsman and fighter at Castle Lir

  Gwalt, huntsman and fighter, friend of Arain's

  Evan, Ian's body-servant

  Kathryn, Ian's mistress at Castle Lir

  Creon

  Ruling family: d' Aurilac

  Head of House: Lord Branwilde Kayn d' Aurilac, Duke of Creon

  Lady Dierdre Grainne ap Derwan, Duchess of Creon, Branwilde’s wife

  Lord Owen d' Aurilac, son of Branwilde and Dierdre, heir to House Creon

  Lord Gareth d' Aurilac, second son of Branwilde and Dierdre

  Lady Angharad d' Aurilac, daughter of Branwilde and Dierdre

  Lady Alainne de Thurin, Dowager Duchess of Creon, Branwilde’s mother

  Tuenth

  Ruling family: ap Halberstad

  Head of House: Lord Gunnar Tobald ap Halberstad, Duke of Tuenth

  Lady Tammara Annela de Dalin, Duchess of Tuenth, Gunnar’s wife

  Lord Hywell ap Halberstad, son of Gunnar and Tammara, heir to House Tuenth

  Lord Torval ap Halberstad, second son of Gunnar and Tammara

  Lord Blaise ap Halberstad, third son of Gunnar and Tammara

  Lord Cluim ap Halberstad, fourth son of Gunnar and Tammara

  Lady Alyce ap Halberstad, daughter of Gunnar and Tammara

  Sir Giles Benet, seneschal of Rengard Castle

  Mirvanovir

  Ruling family: de Brennin

  Head of House: Lord Niall Alcuin de Brennin, Duke of Mirvanovir

  Lady Rashara Clemential de Sharonara, Duchess of Mirvanivir

  Lord Galen de Brennin, son of Niall and Rashara, heir to House Mirvanovir

  Lord Oswith, Commander of Niall's northern army

  Lord Raney, Commander of Niall's southern army

  The Minor Houses of the Pentarchy

  The Inner Ward

  Ruling family: Brescom

  Lord Larth Brescom, Earl of the Inner Ward

  Pentarell

  Ruling family: Danane

  Lady Laurin Miriel Danane, Countess of Pentarell

  Treves

  Ruling family: de Chantalcalm

  Lord Colin de Chantalcalm, Viscount Treves

  Lady Dinea Caterin de Rommel, Viscountess Treves

  Daffyd ap Blewyns, apprentice bard

  Gresha

  Ruling family: Glendark

  Lord Lewys Glendark, Earl of Gresha

  Lady Maire Cadfell, Countess of Gresha

  Thurin

  Ruling family: Ravenspur

  Lord Aidan Ravenspur, Viscount Thurin

  Lady Caitlan Grainne ap Derwan, Viscountess Thurin

  The Pentacle War Continues!

  The Pentacle War: Book Two

  Swords and Wands

  The field across which they fought had become a nightmarish scene of devastation. Uprooted trees lay haphazardly where they had been tossed among the broken bits and pieces of what had once comprised two large, well-equipt armies. Trying to escape destruction amid the detritus of the battle huddled the men who had not so long ago been the soldiers of those armies. No longer aware of the existence of those they had led onto the battle-field, the two men responsible for this carnage stood upon their twin hills and raged at one another. The battle had become a duel and the motivation had slipped to one of primal forces. Taking form from the ancient spells that originally bound and sealed them, great sheets of water rained down from the wings of a monstrous black swan while from the golden boar's nostrils a maelstrom blew. The human agents of these competing powers were oblivious of everything except being the focus for these tremendous energies. Lit by a shimmering crepuscular light, Branwilde and Niall were the only beings clearly visible as the prince and his three followers came within sight of the actual battle plain. Brian drew rein and silently surveyed what lay before him. At his side, Hollin shivered and pulled her cloak more closely about herself.

  Against the odds, Hollin of Langstraad and her sworn paxman, Daffyd, have found the missing prince and brought him back to the Pentarchy. However, as they ride into the kingdom from the north, they find the once united realm torn asunder by civil war.

  In Tuenth, the duke and one of his sons lie dead at the hand of a traitor, while Hywell, the duke’s heir, condemned for the murders, flees for his life only to find himself being hunted as an outlaw

  In Langstraad, young Ian de Medicat, his wife, Angharad, and their allies wait behind the besieged walls of Castle Lir keeping watch on the army of the Inner Ward until an unexpected move breaks the stalemate.

  In Creon, Branwilde D’Aurilac has sent his call to the Heads of the Great and Minor Houses to gather under his banner as he prepares to go to war. While his allies struggle to bring their armies to join him, he finds himself being lured into playing Niall’s game.

  In Mirvanovir, Niall de Brennin, goaded by pride and the lust for power, has led his followers into acts of treachery, betrayal and murder. Having drawn his sword and set his armies in motion, Niall is intent on gaining a crown by ruthlessly destroying any who stand against him.

  And in the capital city of Pentarin, the lovely and dangerous Rashara discovers that genies cannot be forced back into their bottles. The power that she conjured and sought to wield comes with a terrible price. As the city falls deeper under the evil spell of Rashara’s powerful ally, those few individuals willing to contest it must make alliances, joining the traditions of old and new arcana in their effort to eradicate the darkness.

  To Be Released Summer 2013

  About the Author

  Indie author Candace Gylgayton was born in Falmouth, Massachusetts, but spent her earliest years in Tokyo, Japan, before relocating to the Bay Area of California where she has lived ever since. Candace received her B.A. with departmental honours from the University of California, Santa Cruz, where she wrote her thesis on the uses of iconographic images in Byzantine art. A self-acknowledged history geek, many of her stories reflect her fascination with the never-ending story of human beings.

  Along with a handful of short stories, some of which can be read at her website www.candacegylgayton.com, she is the author of the fantasy duet The Pentacle War, which is comprised of Hearts in Cups (Book One) and Swords and Wands (Book Two).