Knight's End (The Knight Trilogy)

by Montgomery, Jami

  Knight’s End

  Jami Montgomery

  All characters and events in this work are purely fictional and are not meant as actual persons or events. Any resemblance to real persons or events is accidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Jami Montgomery, Attention: Permission, at jamimonty@gmail.com.

  This book was originally published by Dreams Come True Publishing as an ebook.

  Copyright © 2012 by Jami Montgomery

  All rights reserved. Published by Dreams Come True Publishing.

  Cover design by Laura Lawrence

  First Printing, April 2012.

  Dedication

  There are so many people whom I could thank for making this book a possibility. First off, I have to thank the community of friends I found during my time at inkpop. The kind words, the helpful suggestions, and the support I found there has been unmatched by everything else in my life, and without them, this book would not be where it is now.

  I wish I could thank everyone personally, but a few names will have to do. To my mom, Tina Montgomery, for always supporting me, letting me read things to her that I loved or wasn’t sure about, and always offering opinions when I needed them (and even when I didn’t). Thank you for always believing in me, believing I would get there, and letting me try crazy things to make it.

  To my sister, Megan Montgomery, for reading the first draft of Knight’s End and for doing all the right things in all the right places. You cried when I wanted someone to be sad and laughed when I tried to be funny. For that, I am eternally grateful.

  To Mandy Springer, for going through the entire novel with me and making sure my historical aspect was accurate, as well as letting me know my sentence structure was horrible, thank you so much. Without you, my characters would probably be eating hot dogs in Tahiti, and I can’t thank you enough.

  To the people I haven’t mentioned here, you know who you are. Thank you for sticking with me when this book was really (really) rough and not worthy of eyes. Thank you for making suggestions, pointing out my grammar errors, and letting me know which characters needed work and which were fine. Thank you for following this book from rough draft to finished and printed. Without you, Aston and Jade would just be characters on a computer screen, sitting down waiting for me to make their lives worth something like all of you have done to mine. I can never thank my readers, my friends, or my family enough for all they’ve done for me. But this book is my attempt at telling everyone just how much I love and appreciate them.

  I hope you enjoy this story I have to tell. Happy reading.

  Jami Montgomery

  Table of Contents

  One 5

  Two 15

  Three 21

  Four 27

  Five 35

  Six 43

  Seven 51

  Eight 57

  Nine 63

  Ten 77

  Eleven 87

  Twelve 91

  Thirteen 105

  Fourteen 113

  Fifteen 125

  Sixteen 131

  Seventeen 143

  Eighteen 153

  Nineteen 165

  Twenty 177

  Twenty One 189

  Twenty Two 201

  Twenty Three 211

  Twenty Four 225

  Twenty-Five 222

  83

  Prologue

  Adrenaline had gotten him this far. Now that he was here, the rush was leaving, fear taking its place. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his mind raced. I can’t let anyone see me, Ernst thought, pushing a stray lock of ebony hair out of his eyes. They won’t understand.

  He continued down the darkened palace corridor, the moonlight filtering through the tall windows lighting his way as he stalked through the shadows. The plush runner beneath his feet softened his footsteps, almost completely masking them as he passed painting after painting on the grey stone walls. Turning right at the end of the corridor, he followed the map he’d laid out in his head earlier that evening. Past three more doors, he found the one he’d been looking for.

  The dark oak door with torches on either side looked like every other; the rose engraved into the wood showed it for what it really was. This room held royalty. Inside, he knew it would be clean and organized. That was how Prince Orion liked his room, kempt with no indication of his dishonorable habits. The prince liked to frequent Azazel’s brothels, taking as many women as he wanted. He was oft violent with his women. The ones who didn’t cooperate and complained ended up missing, then dead.

  Ernst curled his lip in disgust.

  You can do this, Ernst. You’ve killed plenty of men in battle. Why should this one life be any different? Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he carefully pushed the door open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, letting it click softly into place. A quick look over his shoulder showed him that nobody had stirred.

  Silently, Ernst crept to the bed, the light from a candle on the bedside table guiding him. Prince Orion rested there, nestled under the blankets. Wavy red hair was strewn across his pillow. His right arm crossed over his chest, his left arm trapped underneath the woman in bed beside him. She wasn’t important to Ernst; she was nothing more than a woman Orion had coaxed off the streets. The woman would be in for a surprise in the morning.

  Ernst pulled his ruby-hilted dagger from his belt, nearly dropping it from his sweaty grip. His father had given the dagger to him as a gift when he’d killed his first stag. Now, Ernst intended to complete a different kind of hunt, one that wouldn’t make his father proud. The clock struck midnight, chiming twelve times, echoing throughout the palace.

  Don’t think about it. Just do it. Ernst set the blade against Orion’s throat. He held his breath and drug the dagger against the prince’s neck, digging into the soft flesh. He left one long, narrow cut, jumping back as blood sprayed from the wound before settling into a steady, pulsing flow.

  His heart leapt into his throat when Orion’s brown eyes flashed open, locking on his own emerald ones. The prince let out a gargled cry before his life left him, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

  That was all Ernst could take.

  Time to leave. Ernst took off out the door, no longer worrying about staying hidden. He momentarily tripped over the outstretched leg of a guard he had killed earlier, but he caught his balance and continued through the palace. He heard a woman’s scream and knew Orion’s woman had awoken. Cursing under his breath, Ernst continued down the hall, momentarily pressing himself behind thick curtains as soldiers stormed toward the prince’s room.

  As soon as the soldiers had vanished down the corridor, he continued his escape. He took a sharp left at the end of the hall and ran into one of King Damien’s soldiers. The man muttered a quick apology before noting the blood covered dagger still clutched in Ernst’s hand. He reached to draw his sword, but before he could call for help, Ernst shoved the man against the stone wall behind him, crushing his palm against the knight’s throat. He thrust his dagger under the man’s ribcage, watched his eyes dim, and let him drop to the ground.

  The obstacle out of his way, Ernst exited through the palace doors and ran to the stables, careful to stay hidden in the trees’ shadows and avoid patches of moonlight. He reached the stable and mounted his horse, grateful that he’d tacked him before going to Orion’s room. He quickly steered the palfrey out the open palace gates. King Damien always kept them open, in case anyone needed aid in the middle of the night
.

  After tonight’s events, that would probably change.

  The murderer made it into the forest before he had to stop and heave. He jumped off his horse just as his stomach twisted, emptying itself of its contents. Seeing men die in battle was natural for him. Murdering a man in his bed was more than he could handle. When he finished retching, Ernst wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. If he truly planned to carry out his mission, he would need to gain a stronger stomach.

  These men deserve their fate. They are cruel men in positions of power, men who should be changing the world instead of making it worse. I’m the only one who can get rid of them. I’m the only one who isn’t afraid of them.

  Ernst climbed back on his horse, turning the animal toward home. Prince Orion’s death would bring chaos to the five adjoining kingdoms. He wanted to make sure he was home before accusations started flowing freely from the mouths of the monarchs.

  “Every new beginning comes from

  some other beginning’s end.”

  - Seneca -

  Six Months Later

  One

  He’d never been summoned without reason before.

  Aston was on his way to a meeting with King Donn. As he walked through the empty corridor, his nerves danced. His cobalt eyes rested lightly on bronze suits of armor lining the walls before darting away again. Thick strands of dusty blond hair stuck to his face as he sweat, and he kept his fists clenched at his side.

  The knight set his wandering eyes on the pine doors at the end of the hallway, currently gaping open and waiting for him. When he reached the doors, two stoic-faced guards bowed him in. He acknowledged the bows with a slight nod before heading into the throne room.

  As the grand doors sealed behind him, he started for the three solid gold thrones at the far end of the room. Two of them were occupied by King Donn and Prince Talbot. The knight held his head high as he made his way down the long red velvet carpet, stopping at the king’s feet. Aston bowed low, taking a knee.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, grateful his voice didn’t waver. The monarch nodded to him, and Aston stood, waiting for his orders as he studied his king.

  The king looked less than royal, lounging in his throne. His belly rolled over the top of his pants and his ruby red shirt did nothing to hide the pouch. King Donn’s pants were wrinkled brown cloth, one leg tucked into a black boot while the other was left out. His hair was slowly disappearing, leaving little more than an unkempt silver flap on the top of his head. The king’s face was grim, his grey eyes somber as he looked at Aston.

  “It has been half a year since Prince Orion was murdered. The murderer, The Rogue Royal, is still at large and has found another target. It seems the man is never satisfied. How many kills does that make, Talbot?” King Donn asked, looking at his son.

  Talbot looked away in annoyance, swatting a fly from his shoulder before answering. “Duke Aeron would make twelve, Father.” He slipped down further in his chair in a practiced slouch, his dark eyes looking everywhere but at the knight.

  “Eleven, then. King Aric of Adion received a letter early this morning announcing the Rogue’s intent, as is customary. I want you to take Talbot with you and go to Adion. My old friend, Duke Aeron of Northsbury, is arriving there with his wife tomorrow afternoon. The Rogue intends to strike there, at midnight. I want you to stop him. You haven’t been formally invited by King Aric, so make sure you aren’t seen. It would seem uncouth of me, sending a knight to protect the duke at another man’s castle.” Donn waved his hand, as if to dismiss Aston, but the knight still had questions.

  “Sire, if it is uncouth, why send Talbot and I?” Aston questioned. It was unlike the king to care about other people more than he cared about appearances.

  “Duke Aeron has been a close friend of mine for ages, and I fear King Aric is getting soft in his old age. The man will most likely ignore the Rogue’s warnings. I want someone there to save Aeron,” the king answered, looking down his nose at his knight. His tone was condescending, and Aston felt foolish. He shouldn’t have questioned his king.

  The knight nodded, setting his eyes on the man who was to accompany him. Prince Talbot’s brunet hair curled to his ears; his brown eyes were so dark they were almost black. The prince currently wore a shirt so golden, Aston wondered if it were inlaid with the precious metal. His black pants were neatly pressed, his ebony shoes shining in the chandelier’s bright light.

  Brooding and snide, the twenty-summers-old male was undoubtedly the worst prince ever to grace a kingdom. Talbot didn’t care about his people; he loved the riches that came with royalty, and could have done without the duty.

  Aston sighed. It would doom him, bringing Talbot along; something was bound to go wrong. But the knight knew he had no choice. He couldn’t turn down a direct order from the king.

  “Yes, your Majesty. When would you like for us to ride out?” Aston questioned.

  “As soon as you are ready,” came the king’s reply. King Donn dismissed the knight with a wave of his hand. Aston nodded, placing his hand across his heart before turning and leaving the room to prepare.

  **

  Talbot stayed behind, waiting until Aston left before turning to his father.

  “Why do I have to go with him, Father?” Talbot whined like a child. His father sent him a stern look, but Talbot didn’t back down. “Why not send William or Robert? Send another knight and let me stay here.”

  Donn shook his head. “You will accompany Aston. I know I can trust you with him. The other knights don’t like working with him. He’s the best at what he does, but they say he is too kind, too gentle. Too willing to forgive when an enemy surrenders. I need you there to make sure that what needs to be done is done.”

  “But Father, think of the danger! Say we do save the duke’s life. What happens if the Rogue decides he wants to kill someone else in the duke’s place? Someone like me?”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, son. The Rogue has a clear target. If he doesn’t kill the duke, that better mean he won’t kill anyone again.” The king made a slicing motion across his neck, and the prince understood. His father wanted The Rogue Royal out of the picture. Permanently.

  “Yes, Father,” Talbot sighed, still not wanting to go. He knew his father would not change his mind. The prince stood slowly and sulked out of the room, not bothering to throw his shoulders back and stand tall as he walked through the palace. He didn’t care about appearances. Right now, all the prince wanted was a warm bath and a warm bed. He wouldn’t get either until Aston and he returned home from their mission. He found the knight at the end of the hall, talking to a cook. He scoffed and went to interrupt the men’s conversation.

  “Oy, Aston!” he called, putting on a fake smile. Upon seeing the prince, the cook bowed and left. Aston turned to face Talbot, what looked like a forced grin plastered on his face.Talbot stood a bit taller than Aston, his eyes placed mere inches above the two-meter-tall knight’s. Aston had to look up slightly to meet the prince’s eyes; his height was something Talbot had always admired about himself. He liked making people look up to him. It made him feel more superior to them.

  “Prince Talbot.” Aston bowed before standing at attention again. “What do you need?”

  “I wanted to go over the details of the mission with you. We will ride out when I feel we are ready and not before a proper meal. We will ride cautiously and, when we arrive, you will make camp while I supervise,” Talbot announced, counting off on his fingers as he made his conditions. “Oh, and we will not rise before sunrise to start toward Fridel again once the mission is complete. I need my rest.” Having made his demands, Talbot turned on his heel and headed toward his chambers, leaving Aston standing there clenching his fists and grinding his teeth.

  **

  “I despise that man,” Aston muttered to himself. He turned and headed in the opposite direction, going down two flights of stairs to the knights’ hall.

  His room was messier than usual. Clothes were s
trewn across the floor and over his wrought iron bed. The quilt he used at night hung halfway to the floor, the pillows turned sideways. He had just returned home from a mission the day before and hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet. In his twenty- two summers, Aston had never been the neatest person in the kingdom.

  With a sigh, he grabbed his half-unpacked bag from the floor, emptied the rest of the soiled clothes from it and proceeded to grab everything he would need. After packing, he left his room again and went to the mess hall to find supper while he waited for Talbot. He caught sight of his closest friend in the palace, a young man who was currently training under the head housekeeper. It was unusual for a boy to be a maid, but Richard was barely thirteen summers old and too small to do anything else. Not to mention the fact that he was horrible at every other job.

  Smiling, Aston made himself a plate of food and then headed towards the long, wooden table where Richard sat by himself. The boy looked up and smiled when Aston sat beside him, but quickly went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

  “Slow down there, Richie. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Aston said, laughing before filling his own mouth with food.

  “Madam Louise said I had to eat quickly and then get back to work. I’ve been told your chambers are filthy, Sir,” Richie answered. Aston nearly choked on his food, but he recovered and patted the red-headed boy on the back.

  “Good luck with that woman. She’s tough as can be but she’ll do good by you. As for my chambers, I have been away nearly a fortnight. I’ve just returned, but I have to leave again. I don’t have time to clean. That’s what you are for.” Aston noticed the frown that marred the boy’s face upon hearing his favorite knight had to leave again. He seemed to ignore the part about cleaning being his job.

  “Where will you go this time?” Richie asked.

  “To Adion, the most beautiful country around! You would love it, Richie. Stone houses, yards full of blooming flowers, a bookshop with hundreds of books, and beautiful women around every corner.” Aston winked at the young boy, knowing he didn’t care about women.