COPYRIGHT
Copyright © T.L. Branson 2017
The right of T.L. Branson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be edited, transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), or reproduced in any manner without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles. It may not be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s permission. Permission can be obtained through www.tlbranson.com
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Certain events may have been adapted from history, but do not contain any real details.
1st Edition 2017
Published by T.L. Branson
Cover Design by Luciano Komorizono
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE
COPYRIGHT
STORIES BY T.L. BRANSON
MORE SOUL STONES
ASH AND STEEL
AUTHOR REQUEST
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS AND STORIES BY T.L. BRANSON
SHORT STORIES
Midnight Blade
Kingsbane
Ash and Steel
Soul Siphon (Collection - Spring 2018)
NOVELS
Soul Render (Spring 2018)
WANT MORE SOUL STONES?
This short story is inspired by the world and characters of T.L. Branson’s upcoming novel, Soul Render. Follow along with the events leading up to Soul Render.
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The door shook from the incessant pounding of the man on the other side. Alexander Selenius Drygo, King of Sunbury, ignored it.
He sat at a desk in his private study, holding a large, black diamond. A bouquet of flowers from his wife’s funeral lay wilting on the desk next to a pink bow and a half-eaten chunk of roast beef on a silver platter.
The diamond consumed his attention. He turned it over in his hand and ran a finger across the rough edges of a fiery heart engraved on the diamond’s largest face. Beneath the surface, a swirl of black and blue writhed and flowed like a raging river.
The knocking at the door continued.
“Your Majesty, I know you’re in there,” shouted a muffled voice through the thick, mahogany door.
Drygo still did not answer. His eyes shifted from the diamond to the open balcony door. Night reigned, but flickers of orange and yellow flooded the room. Shouts and cries drifted in on the heels of the clang of steel on steel.
“Your Majesty,” the voice continued, “she’s dead. I know this is difficult for you, but your people need you.”
He clutched the diamond in the palm of his hand and let out a loud sigh. The grand marshal was right of course. There was little he could do for his wife now, and the city burned around him.
The chair groaned as it slid away from the desk. Despite the situation, Drygo advanced slowly on the door to the palace. His chainmail rustled beneath his steel plate armor and his boots clanged with each step.
Drygo turned the lock, its click echoing throughout the room. He swung the door wide on silent hinges and beheld Davion Callum, Grand Marshal of the Royal Guard. Soot marred his face, a trickle of sweat leaving a streak down his cheek.
“Report,” Drygo said, pushing off his grief as he turned to the matter at hand.
“It’s Havan, sire,” Callum said. “I’m afraid the kingdom is lost. We evacuated as many citizens as we could via boat. I know you’re loathe to leave, but we really must get out of here, now.”
“Where is Maya?”
“The princess left on the first boat, along with her nurse mother. She is safely away.”
The king slipped the diamond into a small leather pouch at his waist.
“My sword?” Drygo asked.
One of Callum’s men stepped forward and knelt before the king, Drygo’s massive broadsword and sheath resting atop outstretched hands. A striking red dragon wrapped around the grip. Its head made up the pommel, mouth wide holding a brilliant ruby between its jaws.
The king took the sword and slung the sheath over his shoulder, the hilt reaching above his shoulders.
“Let’s go,” the king said.
Callum nodded and the royal guard moved into formation around their king. They marched through the corridors, descended several levels, and advanced on the palace doors. As they stepped into the grand entrance hall, the large double doors leading to the city burst open.
The shing of swords being drawn and the heavy pounding of boots filled the room. Soldiers wearing the blue and gold colors of Havan filed in around Drygo and his men as Sunbury’s royal guard pulled in closer to their king.
The enemy dispensed with formality and charged at the king and his entourage. The royal guard fanned out and faced the enemy in combat. Steel met steel.
A spike of fear coursed through Drygo’s veins. He turned his head from side to side, looking for a way out. The only exit from the palace was through the doors in front of him. He made a mental note to remedy that when he returned.
If I return, he thought.
No.
He couldn’t afford to think like that. He would return. He would survive. He had to survive, for the sake of his kingdom, for his daughter and his wife.
Enemy soldiers continued to pour in through the palace doors. Callum let out a yell and surged forward, the guard closing up the hole in his wake.
But it was no use, there were simply too many of them, and soon the enemy advanced on the king. His fear turned to adrenaline followed by a surge of excitement.
Drygo steeled himself and slid his sword from its sheath, gripped its solid hilt in both hands, and prepared for the coming onslaught.
The first soldier came, but Drygo dodged his swing and sliced his great sword clean through the man’s leather armor. Another soldier rushed at him and met a similar fate.
They continued to come and continued to die. The grace and skill of his royal guard provided a strong defense. A surge of pride filled Drygo’s heart as he fought alongside such fine men.
“We must get out of here,” Callum shouted above the din. “Wedge formation. Push through the gates.”
Callum moved to block the door and stem the flow of soldiers into the room. He took point. The royal guard finished their opponents and moved into position.
Drygo stalked through the door of the palace on the heels of Callum and his men.
Flames rose up above city rooftops. Black smoke billowed high into the sky. The metallic smell of blood mixed with that of burning wood.
It pained Drygo to see his city burn. Grief turned into rage and Drygo broke rank to approach the horde of soldiers in the streets head on.
“My king!” Callum shouted, moving to intercept him.
“Either join me or be cleaved in two, Callum, I’ll not suffer the rats to live.”
A smile rose on Callum’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said. He backed away and called to his men, “You heard the king. Let’s make Havan rue the day they invaded our land.”
The men ran through the courtyard and into the streets, meeting their attackers with a chorus of singing steel. All around them, the red and black of Sunbury clashed with the blue and gold of Havan.
One of Sunbury’s soldiers caught sight of the king and did a double take. His momentary distraction almost cost him his life. His opponent’s sword came down, but Drygo lunged forward, blocking the enemy’s blade with his own. The king shoved him off, swung,
and separated the man’s head from his body.
“Your Majesty,” his own soldier said, eyes wide. He issued a silent thank you and rushed back into battle shouting, “For the king! For Sunbury!”
All around him, the chorus rose up. Shoulders straightened, heads lifted, and swords swung faster, heavier, stronger. Where moments ago spirits had been dashed, the fire in their hearts rekindled.
Drygo advanced in the wake of the carnage. An explosion rocked the street. Stone blew apart as a building crumbled ahead. The king looked away and shielded his eyes. All around him, men stumbled and fell as the ground shook beneath them.
Knowing they must find and kill Havan’s commander if they had any hope of stanching the flow of blood this day, Drygo left the street and walked through the door of a nursery. The roof would be flat, higher than the rest of the buildings so the plants could receive sunlight. Ascending the steps two at a time, he emerged on the roof and waded through the trees and bushes to a clear vantage point.
His eyes scanned the horizon. Sunbury’s magnificent palace sat against a sheer cliff behind him. To his right, Havan’s soldiers continued to file down the narrow road along the escarpment that led into the city. A volley of arrows rose up from the rooftops, striking the soldiers descending into the city. A soldier screamed as he fell off and plummeted to his death.
Drygo turned to the west. In the harbor of Sunbury’s Coral Cove, the banner flying Havan’s colors and marking the commander’s location, stood between Drygo and the bay. The invaders sought to prevent Drygo’s escape, but he couldn’t know the king had no intention to retreat.
A yell drew the king’s focus back to the rooftop. One of Havan’s soldiers had followed him. Sword raised, he began to swing before Drygo could react. But the blade stopped mid-swing, falling from his grasp. Shock registered on the man’s face as another sword broke through his chest from behind.
The body fell away as Callum pulled his sword from the corpse.
“A little warning next time, Your Majesty?” Callum said.
The king dipped his head in thanks but did not address the veiled rebuke. He pointed to the west. “That’s our destination.”
“The ships, sire?”
“No. Cut off the head…” He left the rest unsaid.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Callum said, nodding with a smile.
An explosion shook the ground from some distance away. The king watched as yet another building crumbled. His face contorted in anger, an ache in his heart.
“We must hurry, Callum, or there won’t be a city to save.”
Callum led the way back to the street below. The battle continued in earnest.
Drygo and Callum battled side by side as they pushed their way to the harbor. They lost good men in the process. One of Drygo’s personal guards fell, but for every man they lost, three more fell in their wake.
The stone beneath their feet was coated in a thick layer of blood. When there was no road to tread on, they stepped atop the bodies of the fallen.
Finally, they reached the harbor. Havan’s banner flew in the center of the wide street. Beneath it, standing on a crate giving orders to burn the ships still at port was Lord Commander Kaspar.
A distasteful man, really. Loyal to a fault, he treated all foreign dignitaries with utmost contempt. He was one of the most raucous leaders Drygo ever had the displeasure of knowing. The king would enjoy this.
Kaspar noticed the king’s approach and fell silent.
“Well, well, well,” Kaspar called out to his men, “Look who’s come to play.” The lord commander jumped from the crate, turning his focus back to the king, and said slowly and with pomp, “Alexander Drygo, King of Sunbury—or is it Sunburning now?” Soft laughter rippled through Havan’s soldiers.
Drygo gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He would definitely enjoy this. The king pushed his guard aside and stepped into the open. Extending his sword, he issued a silent challenge.
Kaspar waved off his men and drew his own sword in acceptance.
Drygo gave a glancing touch to the stone in his pocket, assuring himself it was still there. The men ran at each other, shouting.
Their swords clashed. Drygo swung and the man parried. He lunged and Drygo danced back out of his reach. The lord commander dropped to the ground and swung his foot at Drygo’s legs, but the king hopped over it with ease, like a child jumping rope.
Drygo swung his sword, but Kaspar sprang to his feet before the king could take advantage of his opponent’s position. Drygo’s sword met steel instead of flesh. Back and forth the two men battled, neither gaining an advantage over the other.
The two armies took up positions at opposite ends of the harbor, lining up to watch their leaders fight. They knew it would end in death, and the winner would mark the victor of the battle.
The explosions in the distance ceased, the echoes of battle slowed. Silence reigned as the two leaders circled each other in the open.
The lord commander broke off first, once again charging at Drygo, seeking to push him back into the waiting arms of his comrades. The king expected this and dodged. Kaspar could not slow his momentum and crashed into the crate on which he’d stood moments earlier.
Drygo swung his sword again, but the lord commander deflected it at the last second, giving him just enough time to slip away before the king’s blade sank into the wooden crate.
The king couldn’t retract his blade. Kaspar’s own sword sailed through the air. Drygo left his weapon, but couldn’t dodge the soaring blade in time. The sword caught a glancing blow across his waist, bouncing harmlessly off his armor, but not before severing the cord of the leather pouch that held the stone.
The pouch dropped to the ground. Drygo dived for it, but the lord commander snatched it away. Panic flooded through the king. He climbed to his feet and ran at the man. Kaspar held his sword up, halting Drygo’s approach.
The lord commander looked at the pouch in his hand then tossed it to one of his men behind him. Drygo let out a yell of anguish.
Emboldened by his small victory, Kaspar swung at the seemingly defenseless king with abandon. Drygo dodged and danced to avoid each attack, wearing his opponent down. The lord commander slowed and began to breathe heavily.
As a sloppy swing blew by, the king saw his opening and rammed his shoulder into the man’s back. The sword flew from the Kaspar’s hand as he fell to the ground. He lunged for his weapon, but the king grabbed his foot and pulled him back.
Drygo used his teeth to remove his gauntlet from his right hand and threw it aside. He flexed his fingers and grabbed the lord commander’s face with his bare hand.
Drygo’s eyes turned as black as the night around them, his vision shifting to a world absent of color and light. Darkness did not matter here, his magic allowing him to see as if it were midday. Kaspar’s soul, visible beneath his skin, glowed and shimmered erratically. He let out a shriek of fear that morphed into pain.
The king began to pull and he watched as his magic sucked the soul of the man from his body. Slow at first, it came to Drygo like water through a straw. It traveled up an invisible bond, filling the king with new life and energy. The weariness of the battle fled from him, and his breathing slowed.
All the while, Kaspar’s body contorted and shriveled. His face sank and bones popped out of place. He shook violently beneath the king’s grip, a seizure taking hold of him.
The armies on both sides stood, awestruck. The Havanites, recognizing their commander’s peril, rushed in to kill the king. Likewise, Sunbury’s army charged.
The king pushed off from the commander, stood, and ran at the oncoming horde. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the man with his precious diamond. He caught a small glimpse of that soldier’s face seconds before he slipped out of sight.
As the enemy line approached, Drygo reached for his sword. His hands grasped at air. He had forgotten he didn’t have it. One of Havan’s soldiers shouted in victory a
nd stabbed at the king. The sword plunged through a break in the king’s armor and into his shoulder. Drygo hissed in pain, cursing himself for losing his sword.
The two armies collided around him. One of Drygo’s royal guards felled the man who stabbed him. The king tried to push forward, to find the man who held his stone, but Callum caught him and pulled him back into the safety of their army.
“Leave it, Your Majesty,” Callum said.
“You don’t understand,” the king yelled back.
“I understand well enough,” Callum chided, “that if you continue on this course I’ll be burying both my queen and my king in less than a week.”
Callum’s words settled his body, but did little to calm the fury within.
In mere minutes, Sunbury’s army, bolstered by the enemy commander’s death, pushed back Havan’s forces. The enemy soldiers ran up the road of the escarpment faster than a charging rhino. Many men fell to their deaths in their haphazard flight as they pushed and shoved to escape the swelling tide behind them.
The king retrieved his sword and walked with Callum in the aftermath. They killed all those who still breathed, a small mercy bestowed upon their enemies, which they did not deserve.
Drygo let his victory over Havan’s commander rest for only a few hours, then he marched his army out of his crumbling city. He would have his revenge and reclaim his stolen gem.
***
Sunbury’s army sat hidden within the trees, under the cover of night, half a mile outside the gates of Havan.
Four days had passed since Havan’s defeat, but the attack had severely depleted Sunbury’s soldiers. And now they approached the enemy within their own fortifications. Drygo knew he needed to play this smart. He could not rush in or Havan would slaughter them before they breached the gates.
The pounding of footsteps drew their attention. One of Drygo’s guards drew his sword, but Callum stayed his hand as a man stepped into the light of the moon. Callum recognized him as one of Sunbury’s spies within Havan’s borders.
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