Fractured Families (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 2)

by Jason Paul Rice

  “Just feeding the men of duty without pay would break us right now. The citizens want the crown to help them but never the other way around. Everyone is out for themselves, even families are eroding. No offense, my Queen,” he stammered, lowering his head like a scolded dog.

  “I understand that full well, General. I feel like a mother to my brothers and I am better for them than my parents ever would have wished. I take family more seriously than anyone, even though my uncle plots my death as we speak. I have started a family war, but everything is for the benefit of Goldenfield. I serve justice where all others seem to be self-serving. I seized a kingdom with more problems than a two-legged horse. Now you tell me our treasury is empty and we owe coin stacked up to the moon. I do have one idea. Take all our gold and melt it down. Then we can re-mint the coins with some copper added and have them weigh just a touch less than before. I didn’t ever think I would have to say those words, General. These new positions are foreign to both of us. But I won’t sit on my hands and hope. I will conquer somehow,” she stated.

  He quickly followed up, “Please allow me to come this time. This…this…it isn’t for me. I am humbled you chose me…” The Queen’s guard, Perelle, entered the room, “My Queen, there is a woman outside the gates. She says she can help you capture another throne.”

  “Name?” “She won’t say. She has red hair and two small boys with her. She said you would understand when you saw her,” Perelle said.

  “Search her and the boys and bring them up,” she ordered. “Do you know who this could be?” she asked General Rigby.

  The man shook his head. Leimur could see that the Capitol had been taking a toll on the war veteran. She needed to find someone else to leave in charge of Sevring so she could take the General to Donegal.

  A short woman with two boys entered the room and slowly approached the Queen of Goldenfield. She held the hands of the boys, who flanked her on either side. She prompted the boys to kneel and she followed, “Your grace, thank you for seeing me.”

  “Rise please. General, take the boys to meet Romer and Huber and have someone keep watch on them,” she ordered.

  “I will watch them myself,” the General said. The boys followed him out and her guest sat down. Long auburn hair to the small of her back accentuated brown eyes and a sexy set of thick lips. She had looked to have a dark complexion when she entered the room but as she got closer Leimur saw pale skin almost completely covered in freckles. She struck the Queen as a gorgeous woman with delicate and dainty features despite some developing wrinkles on the older woman. Leimur guessed her age to be between thirty-five or forty.

  “My name is Ali-Tiste Wamhoff.” “And what brings you to my table?” Leimur asked.

  “I am the daughter of King Ali-Stanley Wamhoff and Duchess of Burkeville.” I have heard very little about this woman. They said she is a typical Wamhoff.

  “Why are you here?” Leimur asked firmly. “King Ali-Stanley is dead. Is this some sort of ruse? Don’t forget we have your boys.” If they even are your children. The Queen’s pulse quickened, senses rose.

  “I would like to say I’m shocked that he’s dead, but after he had my husband killed I simply cannot. I thought he would kill my boys next. I grabbed my sons and a dedicated guard and fled Burkeville. They had already killed my one daughter and Ali-Stanley had my other daughter in his castle. I didn’t know what to do to protect my sons. For some reason, I believed if I could make it here that I could help you and get some revenge on my father,” Ali-Tiste emotionally stated.

  “And how could you help me?” “I still have loyalty from many lords in Burkeville. I can guide you through the region and put you on the steps of the king’s castle, unscathed. I want all who betrayed me to see my face as they kneel before their new Queen. It is true I would like revenge, but through my rage, you can conquer a kingdom. I can tell you about Falconhurst’s defense systems and how to attack them,” Ali-Tiste promised.

  “How can I be sure you aren’t going to lead me into the steel jaws of the enemy?”

  “You may keep me and my sons as prisoners until you sit the throne. I only wish my back-stabbing father had lived so I could watch him die,” her guest said.

  Leimur liked this woman’s thirst for vengeance. It reminded her of the revenge she had sought from her parents after they ordered her death.

  “What are the boys’ names?” Leimur asked. “Astrid and Butrel.”

  “How old are they?” the Queen pressed. Ali-Tiste replied coolly and calmly, “Astrid is four, Butrel just turned three.”

  “I hope for you and your boys’ sakes that you’re telling the truth,” the Queen warned. “I swear it, my new Queen.”

  “I am going to find your sons. If they don’t answer to these names or know the ages you claimed, you and your boys will die. I want to trust you but there is just too much deception in this ugly world.” The Queen noticed the woman’s pale face hadn’t flushed and Ali-Tiste looked serene in enemy territory. “If your boys pass this simple test, I will set accommodations for you and your sons in the palace. We will talk over supper; that is, if your pretty little head isn’t on a spike,” Leimur said.

  “Then I shall see you at supper,” the confident Ali-Tiste raised her chin and grinned.

  THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN SWORD

  “We have news from the Capitol, the King is dead,” the Crippler informed The Man.

  The two sat in The-Man-with-the-Golden-Sword’s new chambers and talked by torchlight. He hadn’t redecorated because The Man didn’t intend to stay long. He had a date with a throne.

  “What? Who did it?” he said in an angered tone. “Nobody seems to know officially but they found him face down next to his bed. He had been stabbed in the neck and head dozens of times. A member of his own King’s Guard has been named a possibility as has the Queen. The King’s Guard member apparently killed the High Priest in the House of Eternal Light and had been spotted in the castle prior to that. Makes no matter, you will smash whoever dares stand in your way,” the Crippler confidently said.

  “I wanted to kill that King but I will settle for another. That means we need to train the new men quickly. How many did we acquire from taking Waters Edge?” the Man asked.

  “We gained nearly seven thousand able bodied men; however, many aren’t suited for battle so we are finding other ways to use them,” the Crippler replied.

  “Then it isn’t really an army of seven thousand. Daylight to daybreak they will be trained. All the men are so old and worthless around here, it seems. Are they letting the onion head take the crown?” The Man queried.

  “Apparently so. Something else has come to light. It’s about your father.”

  The Man interrupted, “You found out who my father is?”

  “We obviously cannot be positive but all signals point to the man who just died, King Ali-Stanley Wamhoff.”

  The Man shook his head and shot a disbelieving look at the Crippler.

  “It’s true. The Duchess Ali-Pari confirmed your looks and said that the late King was in Blair’s Beak around the time of your birth. We will need to ransom her back to the Wamhoffs for money now, or a possible prisoner exchange later. We still have plenty of gold so maybe we should hold onto her for now. I will need your tattooed map soon to bring all the gold here. Once we leave, we will need to take it all with us. There will be no time to come back and dig it up. But the point to be taken is you now have your rightful claim to the throne. The son of a king,” the Crippler enthusiastically told him.

  “I’m still just a bastard.” “I see a man with royal blood and a stronger claim to the throne. More of the nobles will get behind you if they believe your blood to be pure,” the Crippler countered.

  “I don’t want the nobles to back me. I would rather kill them all. I don’t care if I usurp the throne. I think we need more commoners to come to our side to win this struggle, not the sissy nobles,” The Man replied.

  I suppose I would rather have a bastard than a
half-wit running the kingdom. Someone is going to kill the new king, I sure hope I get to do it.

  “You will need alliances with some of the nobles to make it to Falconhurst. I don’t like it either, but it takes soldiers and the owners of soldiers to win a war. If we simply shun everyone, some of the powerful lords could send all their forces to crush us before we even make it to the Capitol. It will be necessary to negotiate with some of them. We have accelerated the work of the weapon builders and sword smiths. They had become extremely complacent here due to their age. I would bet by summer’s end we will be marching on Falconhurst,” the Crippler estimated.

  “That’s too long,” The Man moaned. “Patience, settle for a moment. We still need a solid plan and structure. The kingdom will only grow weaker, not stronger. As time goes on, the situation becomes even more beneficial for us. You shall sit atop the throne by year’s end. Our biggest problem right now is how to conquer the Blue Caps. There are some passes but if the enemy waits on the other side, they can plug the openings and kill our men with ease. I’m told the widest gap can only fit fourteen men side by side. That’s not nearly enough to break through a host of even five hundred men to our eighteen thousand. We will eventually bust through but we could lose half our host in the effort, especially considering the enemy would be well fed and rested. I have a man coming in later to talk to us about other options and what districts we may be able to freely move through, so don’t get drunk. If only the late Duke Etburn had a real naval fleet, we could go around the mountains. We will still send as many men as we can down the coastline to invade from the east and open a supply line from the coast to our camps just outside Falconhurst. Then we can make sure no food gets in and starve them out if we have to,” the Crippler said.

  “Can we keep those supply lines open through Fox Chapel? I don’t suppose our men will be receiving welcoming parades to greet them,” The Man contested.

  “I heard the High Lord of Lightview will do anything for money and he hates the Wamhoffs to boot. We will have to get a direct line figured out but we will find a way,” his confidant assured him. “I’ll be right back, I nearly forgot something,” the Crippler said and walked away.

  The Man looked at the ragged wizard as he left. The small man wore only a long wool tunic that stretched to his knees. The Man saw the leathery, dark brown bottoms of the Crippler’s constant bare feet. He had known the Crippler for years but every time he asked him a question about his past, his mentor quickly rebuffed The Man and changed the topic. The Man only knew the Crippler had haunting green eyes, a vast fund of knowledge and the ability to perform magic, although he had never witnessed it firsthand.

  The Crippler came back with Mad Dog and Tucker. The men led two people with hands bound behind their backs. The man was of substantial size and looked familiar but he instantly recognized the woman.

  “Tarasoni,” The Man whispered.

  “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” she responded.

  Queer looks came over the faces of Mad Dog and Tucker. “This is Tarasoni Alber, the only woman I have ever loved. And this ugly mutt over here looks to be Sir Constador Clybo. The brave knight who stood in silence with a thumb in his ass while I got sent away to the duels. You said nothing, fine sir,” The Man sharply said.

  “You were accused by a lord. Had I said anything I would have been right alongside you,” Sir Constador defended himself.

  “Where are the noble lord and high lord of Elmsrapt?” The Man asked. The Crippler said, “They appear to have escaped, my king.”

  The Man was angry he hadn’t got to kill them. Sir Constador spat on the floor, “King, ha. No king of mine would ambush an old man like a coward.”

  “You hear this,” The Man looked around to his friends. “He must have spent some time with Duke Etburn the way they both talk. Are you not a proud teacher watching your student surpass you?”

  “The only thing you surpassed me in was greed, you coward. Put a sword in my mouth and I can still defeat you without hands,” Sir Constador claimed.

  “Only because you’ve called me a coward twice will I indulge your request. I will fight unarmed against such a brave knight. I will even give you the best sword in all the realm.” The Man unsheathed his golden sword.

  He walked over to Sir Constador and held the sword handle near the knight’s mouth. The Man pretended he was going to peacefully give the sword to his previous mentor who opened his jaw. In a flash, The Man twisted his wrist and shifted the blade around. He shoved the tip into Sir Constador’s mouth and out the back of his neck before the knight could even react. Blood squirted from the mortal wound.

  “AAAHHH,’ Tarasoni screamed in horror and started to cry hysterically.

  Sir Constador gagged on his own blood and would have dropped, but The Man cruelly held him up with the sword.

  “What’s wrong, you brave knight? I thought you wanted to fight,” he taunted the dying man who frantically scratched at the blade helplessly, only cutting his hands. He fell back dead and The Man let him go down while still holding on to his weapon. “I suppose I’ll take this back now if you are finished with it. You sword skills have really regressed,” laughed The Man as he pulled his sword out from the dead man’s face.

  He turned holding his killing device that still dripped from Sir Constador’s blood, and pointed it at Tarasoni. “I would suppose this is the first man you have ever seen killed?”

  “How could you kill him?” she asked through her sniffles. “How couldn’t I? No one can talk to a king like that,” he responded.

  “And what are you king of exactly? What kingdom do you rule? Running around killing innocents doesn’t make one a king,” Tarasoni stated.

  “Watch it with that sharp tongue. I am not opposed to cutting it out with my sharper sword. Look at your protector for evidence,” The Man said pointing at her dead defender. “I instructed my men to spare anyone who took the knee. If they decide to fight, all innocence is lost. Mercy forfeited in favor of glory. This is the wage to pay. This, however, was personal. Tucker, drag the body out of here. Lord Crippler, that will be all for now, thank you.”

  The Crippler and Tucker lowered their heads and said in unison, “My king.” It took both men to drag the large knight from the room. Only Mad Dog, Tarasoni and The Man remained in his chambers.

  “You still look amazing,” Tarasoni gushed as her hysteria subsided.

  “The years appear to have been kind to you as well. What do you think, Mad Dog?” The Man asked.

  “Yes, she’s rull nice, me king.” Mad Dog wasn’t much for words.

  “My king, my king, what is this? King Torryn Beakman?” she asked.

  “Don’t you dare. No one has called me that since I was sent away to the Duels. That’s no longer my name. I am The Man with the Golden Sword,” he said as he flashed a sharp smile.

  “So you are King Man with the Golden Sword? Just a hint, it doesn’t quite ring in my ears,” she mocked The Man.

  “It will be The King with the Golden Sword before too long, but I won’t allow myself the title until I sit in the castle of Falconhurst. You think you know me but you could never understand the struggles I’ve seen. I have acquired a great fondness for whores since we split ways all those years ago. And I just remembered why I love whores so much. Do you know why, Mad Dog?” “No, me king,” the big ogre replied.

  “Then I ask you, have you ever known a whore to bust your stones or have you ever loved a whore?”

  “No, me king,” he replied quickly. “No. Neither have I. I would love to spare you, but after the verbal lambasting you just gave me I couldn’t look my men in the eyes and demand respect if I let you live. There’s another fact about whores you should know. When one whore dies, ten more are born every day. Love is a hindrance. I did love you once, when I believed in the idea of love. I was young and foolhardy but no longer do I believe in that nonsense. My love burned hot for you once and it landed me in the Duels,” The Man informed his captiv
e.

  Tarasoni fought the tears back, and said, “You cannot blame me for that. If you loved me once, you can love me again. I will be true to you. I will bend the knee and kiss your foot in front of all your men if you wish.”

  “I have just told you that I don’t believe in the concept of love. Not only will I never love you again, I will never love any woman again. Why, so I can have children that enemies can use against me?”

  “So you are going to kill me just like that. The big tough king is going to kill another innocent woman,” she wept.

  “No. I’m not going to kill you.” He paused for a few moments. “Mad Dog is going to.”

  Fear appeared to grip Tarasoni and The Man saw the horrified look in her eyes that he had seen thousands of times in combat. He said, “Mad Dog, you like to rape and kill, do you not?” “That I do, me king,” he said with a sick smile and distant look in his eyes.

  “Good. How would you like to rape and kill this woman here?” The Man coldly posed.

  “I would if at’s whatcha want, me king,” the big man replied with a goofy giggle. Mad Dog was considered a beef brain. Big and strong like an ox but also dumb as a sack of rocks. Shaggy brown hair hung partially over his dark eyes and scarred skin graced most of his body. Several missing teeth and a mangled nose completed Mad Dog’s frightening look. He enjoyed the game of war and the spoils involved.

  The Man turned his attention back to Tarasoni whose face and eyes were a red mess, “You knew me as a young, silly child. I will always be the little bastard to you. I am a king now and you will never learn to respect that. You jape me even while your arms are bound. Even after seeing me kill your sworn knight in front of you. Your initial words show no respect. The fact that you groveled at the end with lots of words that said absolutely nothing makes me wish that Mad Dog goes extra rough on you. Yes, eight duels and a lifetime of military conquest can harden a man. You may take solace in the fact that I will kill many more women on my way to the throne. You will be a distant memory, once again, before too long. The risk of developing feelings for you also exists, so this is a practical decision. Mad Dog.”