The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen Book 0)

by N. M. Santoski

  He circled the room, culling his volunteers with little to no difficulty. He would be the only Council member, as his was the grievance. Robert hobbled along behind him, face set. “We have no hope of overtaking them on foot,” John announced, not looking at Robert. “They know the woods too well. We will divide into two groups—one group will take the ATVs and try to flush them out, the other group will stay on foot and establish a perimeter, in case they decide to come back this way. Go dress appropriately and meet back in the front hall in five minutes—we will be waiting.”

  The volunteers scattered, leaving John and Robert standing in the front hall. They weren’t alone long. One of the young Aqua girls came running up to the pair, clearly out of breath. “Lady Aeron is in labor!” she wheezed, hands on her knees.

  “She’s not due for another month!” Robert said, alarmed.

  John nodded. “The shock must have been too much for her. How is she doing?”

  “Lady Keopelani is anticipating a long birth—things are progressing very slowly. Will you be in the building, my Lord?”

  “I am supposed to be leading the hunt for my son’s killers, but in deference to my daughter-in-law’s pain, I will head up the perimeter protection in case she is in need. Please keep us updated on her condition.”

  She nodded and was off running again, disappearing up the stairs.

  “She’ll be okay, right?” Robert ventured.

  “I hope so,” was all John would say.

  Chapter Four

  The lions left the scene of Trevor’s death and dashed northward, hoping to put some distance between themselves and the angry numen surely pursuing them. They were startled when their alpha pulled up short only a few miles away from Caer Anglia, resuming his human form and looking up at the sky.

  “Why are we stopping?” Christopher asked, reverting back to a slender teenage boy. “I thought we were going back to meet the others at the Canadian border?”

  “No,” Jantzen said, eying his companions as they circled around him. “We have to get caught.”

  “Caught? We murdered the heir to the Swordsmith!” Elspeth sputtered. “We’ll be slaughtered.”

  Jantzen merely smiled. “No, this is all part of the deal. We need to be ‘tried’ by their ridiculous court, and make sure that the truth is known. Then we’ll be recompensed.”

  “Will we get to go back to Caer Anglia?”

  “That’s the deal—I have his marker to prove it.”

  The lions chattered for a moment, happy to end a nomadic existence away from family and friends. Jantzen held his hand up for silence. “We’ll have to hope old man Aeron is leading the hunt—he’ll bring us in without hurting us too badly. He has to make it look good, of course. It’s his son we killed.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Hunter asked.

  “We stay within a few miles. I’ll feign injury from my fight with the Jenkins boy, that’ll give them a reason for why we didn’t make a break for Canada. It shouldn’t take too long for them to find us.”

  He was right—the hunting party was closing in on the pride with amazing speed. John and Robert, among others, were fulfilling the duty of perimeter protection and home base, allowing the different groups to check in with updates.

  “Maybe I should go in and check on Mara?” Robert said, his glance continually drifting to the windows of Lady Keopelani’s rooms. Despite the heat, they were tightly closed, keeping any possible noises muffled.

  “They said they would keep us updated, Robert—I’m sure we’d just be in the way. When my children were born, I…” John suddenly sat on the front steps as though he'd lost all feeling in his legs, his face gray.

  “John? What is it?” For a terrifying moment, Robert thought he was having a heart attack. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s happening all over again.”

  “What’s happening? John, talk to me!”

  "It's my last chance, Robert," he gasped. "My last chance for an heir."

  Robert looked horrified. "An heir? Is that all you’re worried about?"

  "The Sword must have a smith, Robert, and that smith has always been an Aeron. For two millennia, our line has remained unbroken. My wife and I had eight children, and only Trevor was a Fulmen. Now…" His voice broke, and the men were once again silent. There was nothing left to say.

  ***

  Keopelani and a few of her ladies were assisting Mara in childbirth, doing what they could to make her comfortable. She was propped up in the large marble tub, her shoulders draped with a shawl, her lower body immersed in the water.

  “How are your internal waters?” Keopelani asked.

  “Better than with Alan,” she said, breathing through a particularly tense contraction. “At least the baby isn’t fighting me.”

  “Thank Neptune for that. Can I bring you anything?”

  “My father-in-law’s head,” she said bluntly, grasping the hand of the attendant assigned to endure the finger crushing pain. The girl grimaced, but said nothing.

  “You know I’d give you anything in my power, but John Aeron’s head is firmly affixed to his body, and destined to be that way for quite some time, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t care,” she growled. “Trevor should be here with me. It’s his fault on so many levels… he doesn’t deserve to live if Trevor is dead.”

  “Mara, stay calm, please. This isn’t good for you or the baby.” She began to control the water in the tub, swirling it gently to soothe Mara. However, she was too angry and in too much pain to be soothed.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Keopelani took a cursory glance at her progress. “Well, let’s give you something else to think about, hmm? Let’s bring this little one out to meet us. You can start working on interchanging the waters, Mara.” She released the water from her own control and waited.

  Mara closed her eyes and clamped down on the attendant’s hand, concentrating. The water began moving in a tidal pattern, moving toward and away from her in ever increasing waves.

  “Now, Mara,” Keopelani said in a soft voice. “Begin to push, gently, as you move the water.”

  Just a few minutes shy of dawn, her labor was over. Keopelani scooped the baby out of the tub and cleared his airway, letting the child cry for the first time.

  “Your son, madam,” she said with a smile, tucking him into his mother’s arms.

  “Nolan,” she whispered, and began to cry. As she clutched the baby, Keopelani gestured to the same messenger she’d used earlier and said in a low tone, “Tell the gentlemen that the boy has been born. They should be on the front lawn.”

  The girl bowed and was out the door in an instant. She followed the maze of corridors to the front hall, where she opened the main doors to reveal Lord Fulmen sitting on the steps, his head in his hands.

  “My Lord, your grandson is born—and your nephew, Mr. Jenkins,” the messenger said, a wide smile on her face. John’s head shot up and he turned his upper body to face her, beaming.

  “Excellent!” he said. “And Mara?”

  “Recovering well, from what we can see,” she said. “Any message?”

  “Tell Lady Keopelani that Robert will be up to see Mara, and that I will wish to see my grandson alone. I doubt Lady Aeron is keen on my company at this moment.”

  As the messenger turned to obey, a shout went up from the forest. John sprang to his feet as the commotion got closer, eyes scanning the tree line.

  One of the ATV groups came roaring into the clearing, dragging the body of a lion behind them, bound and muzzled. Two others quickly followed. “We got them, my Lord!” Liam McClellan called out, unhooking the ropes from the rear of the ATV and pulling him forward to rest at John’s feet.

  “Alive, I hope,” John said sternly.

  “Of course, my Lord. They must stand trial. The others are following.”

  “Excellent. Put them downstairs in one of the cells, and leave them bound. They can figure their own way out of their bonds.”
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  Liam mock-saluted and began the long trek with some of his fellow hunters. John called in the rest of the groups and thanked them for their help, sending them up to their rooms to shower and relax. He kept his eyes turned away from Erick Jantzen's lion form, not trusting his self-control.

  “Now we will go see the baby,” he said to Robert, who was leaning on his cane with a grim smile of satisfaction on his face.

  They climbed the stairs together, John matching his pace to Robert’s. When they reached Keopelani’s quarters, John stopped. “Go in and see your sister, Robert, and send Keopelani out to me with the baby. I must test him.”

  Robert nodded and disappeared inside, closing the door softly behind him. A few minutes later, Keopelani emerged, a bundle of white cloth in her arms.

  “Lady Keopelani… my grandson?”

  “Nolan Aeron,” she confirmed, placing the baby gently in his arms.

  "Not a Welsh name?"

  "It's the name his father and mother agreed on."

  "Very well." He gently slipped his hands beneath the newborn and cradled him against his chest. The Swordsmith looked absolutely gigantic next to the premature infant. It was only Keopelani's knowledge of John’s experience with babies that stopped her from snatching him back.

  John clucked to the baby and coaxed him into opening his eyes. With a bit of a squint, the newborn made blurry eye contact with his grandfather for the first time.

  Their eyes were the exact same shade of electric blue. Not the blue eyes passed from father to son—the shocking, supernatural blue of a strong Power user.

  "Have you seen his eyes?" Keopelani whispered.

  "Yes," he croaked. "May I test him?"

  "Will it hurt him?"

  "Did your Water testing hurt Leiani?"

  She shook her head, considering. After a few moments, she finally nodded, giving her consent in Mara’s place. John quickly rubbed two fingers together and conjured the smallest ball of plasma he could muster. When he slipped it gently against the baby's cheek, it glided over Nolan's skin effortlessly, making its way down to his tiny fist and disappearing with a pop.

  "Yes, what a wonderful little Fulmen you are," he crooned.

  “Where is my baby?” Mara demanded from inside the room, her voice rising hysterically until the pair in the hall could hear her. “Why won’t you bring him to me?”

  Robert stuck his head out the door. “You’d better bring the baby back in, my Lady, if you don’t want her to suspect that you’ve let John see him.” He cut his eyes back to John, and his voice turned bitter. "Your heir is born... again. Try to take better care of this one." Without letting John respond, he disappeared again. John carefully passed the baby back to Keopelani.

  “Thank you for that time with him, Keo.”

  “You’re welcome, John.” She hesitated. “They’ll come around.”

  “I can only hope.” He bowed and headed down the hall, leaving the new mother with her family and retreating to the Atrium to ensure that his son’s arrangements had all been made.

  The Artifex numen were hard at work in the earthen arena, constructing seating out of the very dirt. They had already shaped a bier for Trevor’s body, now laid out in state. Trevor’s body was nude, as was customary, but his lower body was draped in dark blue velvet. The Medica nurses had done their best to make him look peaceful, but his was not a peaceful death—the glistening piece of spine visible through the gash in his neck was evidence enough of that.

  John’s second in command, Michael Warrington, was supervising his people as they worked. He was also watching as a growing number of numen gathered at the doors of the Atrium, silently staring at Trevor’s body. He was so engrossed in his observations that John completely startled him when he walked up behind him and said softly, “Lord Artifex.”

  He jumped and turned to face John, his face tense. John noticed that his fists were clenched, though he quickly relaxed them. “Oh… Lord Fulmen. You startled me.”

  “Quite an audience.” The crowd practically thrummed with suppressed anger and fear.

  "They are hungry for blood," Michael warned.

  "They will calm down," John responded, sounding more confident than he actually felt. He, too, was seething, and dueling Erick Jantzen to first blood would have been a satisfying result twenty years ago. He was over sixty, however, and Power sickness was creeping through his body and making his numina less responsive every day.

  “I’m not sure they will. Trevor’s death is only the most recent in a long line of mysterious disappearances that are setting them on edge. They feel as though we can’t protect them. With the Council’s ruling that keeps them from the safety of Caer Anglia…”

  John groaned under his breath. “Michael, not now, please.”

  He nodded and took John by the arm, pulling him away from the workers. "John, if you don't feel that you can fairly adjudicate tomorrow, I would be happy to lead the prosecution."

  He started to shake his head and stopped, considering. "I wouldn't want anyone to feel as though I railroaded the Council into a decision. Yes, Lord Artifex, I think you may be the best man for the job."

  "Thank you, John, I will spend the night preparing. I will have to speak to the prisoners at some point, but I will be sure to take all precautions."

  "Do so. Now, my newest grandson is awaiting my return in Lady Aqua's rooms, so if you'll excuse me--"

  "John, congratulations! Is he an Aqua, like his lovely mother and brother?"

  John stopped on the landing and turned back with a grin. "No, Michael, he is a Fulmen, like his lovely father and grandfather."

  Michael's smile slipped for a moment, but John was in enough of a hurry to overlook it. He headed back up to the room, where Robert was waiting outside.

  "Lord Fulmen, I'd like to issue an apology," he said formally. "My words were in haste--I am still mourning my brother-in-law."

  John embraced him. "Robert, I know how much you loved Trevor, and I accept your apology. We are all still raw from his death."

  Robert smiled to hide the tears. "Trevor would have been so proud to have a son to follow in his footsteps."

  "He would have been happy for another healthy child--Trevor was never as concerned with the Council as some. He was a very happy man until the last. Do you think Marama will be able to stand the sight of me?”

  Keopelani spoke up from the doorway, holding the door open for them both. “You’re not only Nolan’s grandfather, but his Lord—she doesn’t have a choice.”

  She led the way into the room where Mara was ensconced in the big bed, Nolan in the cradle nearby. Alan and Leiani were in the room as well, staring curiously at the newcomer from a playpen.

  When Mara spotted John, she cried out and tried to get out of the bed to snatch up her sons. “Get out!” she snapped.

  “These are my rooms, Marama Aeron, and you will show your Swordsmith the proper respect!” Keopelani snapped back.

  Mara paused in her scramble to get out of the bed and sank back into the pillows, pouting. It was times like these that John remembered just how young his daughter-in-law was. She was barely into her twenties—old enough to know better, but young to be a widow with two sons under two.

  John ignored her and scooped Alan out of the playpen, giving him a kiss and a quick cuddle. Leiani fussed, wanting attention, but John quickly returned her playmate and headed for the cradle.

  “My grandson?” he said, though it was a rhetorical question. Marama answered him anyway.

  “Yes, but it’s no business of yours.”

  “I am his Lord, Marama.”

  “You can’t know that!” she protested. “He hasn’t been tested yet.”

  “Just one look in his eyes tells me the truth,” John said. “They practically glow with Power.”

  “Just leave us alone! Haven’t you done enough?”

  “And who will train him, Mara?” John asked ruthlessly. “He is not only a Fulmen, but the last Aeron Fulmen. Do you really think he
can become Swordsmith without help?”

  “Enough,” Robert said as Mara opened her mouth to fight back. “He’s right, Mara. If he wanted, he could take the baby from you and no one could say a word. After all, Power numen have been disappearing at an alarming rate. Nolan would certainly be safer with John.”

  Mara began to cry, which brought Keopelani into the fray. “Really, now. We can revisit this at another time. John, will the funeral be tomorrow?”

  “Yes—we can’t wait much longer. I will represent the family if you don’t feel up to it, Mara.”

  She stayed stubbornly silent.

  “The Medica nurses were here earlier—they suggested at least two days of bed rest,” Keopelani volunteered.

  “Very well. Robert, will you represent the Jenkins family?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then it’s settled, and I bid you good night.”

  Before John could exit the room, Mara spoke. “When is the trial?”

  “We’ll give everyone time for the emotions of the funeral to die down on Sunday and commence early Monday morning.”

  “I will be there,” she said, eyes burning.

  John simply nodded and swept from the room.

  Chapter Five

  The burial of a Lord or Lady Younger was always a heart-wrenching affair. The entire community gathered in the large Atrium, where there was enough room to accommodate so many mourners. The sun had just set, leaving the chamber full of deep shadows. John, holding Trevor’s death medallion, stood at his place as Lord Fulmen, the rest of the Council surrounding him.

  Trevor’s nude body was laid out upon the earthen bier, directly under the stars. The velvet had been moved beneath him, leaving his entire body bare. Here was a man clearly in his prime, and it was all too obvious what had killed him. His death being ruled a homicide, all numen present were invited to view the body up close if they so desired, making denial of what had happened impossible. They were all witnesses, now.

  Once everyone was satisfied, John stepped forward to speak, standing with his hand resting on his son’s shoulder. He opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. He swallowed and tried again.