DAWN OF THE PHOENIX (Gods Of The Forever Sea Book 1)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  Cain got up and closed his door. He didn’t really care what his sister thought, or Talorn, for that matter. He would kill anyone who stood between him and the throne. He needed Talorn, he also needed the Blackthorn fortune, so he would have to go easy, but he didn’t like to be threatened.

  The prince walked over and looked into the large oval mirror that hung on his wall. He thought of his sister on the floor of her room, her face beaten until she was unrecognizable and his hands wrapped around her throat, and he gave a half-grin to himself in the mirror.

  Quietly, Bishop Lyfair followed Lord William into the king’s quarters. Blackthorn had not told him anything. He had no idea why the lord wished to speak to the king. Lyfair knew as well as everyone else that the king’s change in heirs would not be honored. Raygan would never be allowed to have any power in Bandara, let alone be its queen.

  They entered the royal chambers to find His Majesty sitting on a silk divan. Two of the Royal Guard dressed in the red and gold of Bandara stood at each end. One of Selmac’s apprentices was attending the king.

  “I want to see my children now,” the aged king demanded. “I have to explain to them what I intended and why I made the decision. Did you hear me? Damn you, do as I say and bring them to me now.”

  It had been a long time since Bishop Lyfair had heard that much fire in the king’s voice. It cracked the air like a whip. The king noticed them as he closed the door. “Marin, William, tell these fools to bring Cain and Raygan, I must speak with them. They won’t listen to me.”

  The surgeon attending the king stood up. “The king is very distressed, I thought it best he have no visitors.”

  The young healer said, “Of course, sound thinking. Too much excitement in one day can be bad for the heart. Physician…?”

  “Bryce Averton, my lord.”

  “Bryce, why don’t you and the guards step out. Perhaps you should go find Lord Selmac and see if there is anything particular the king may need. Father Lyfair and I would like to talk to His Majesty alone.” Lord Blackthorn was smiling as he spoke.

  Lyfair did not like it. When he smiled like that, the lord didn’t look quite sane.

  “As you like, my lord.” Averton nodded to Lyfair as he and the two guards walked out of the room. Lyfair noticed that Averton looked relieved to be leaving. He wished he could leave with the young healer. He didn’t want to be here either, but he had chosen this path and would see it through, God willing. He told himself it was for the Church, after all. Besides, he was sure they could calm the old king down. He and William would have the old man back in his sick bed in no time and the plan could proceed.

  Lord Blackthorn slid down on the divan beside the king. Lyfair remained standing, hands folded together as if ready to pray.

  “William, please bring my children, I know they have to be upset. I’m feeling fine and must speak with them now. If I don’t, this will fester between them and I don’t want them to misunderstand the reasons for what I have done.”

  Lord Blackthorn put his finger up to the old king’s lips to quiet him. “What I want you to do now, Your Majesty, is shut your mouth and listen to me.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that, I will…”

  Lord Blackthorn slapped the king across the face, snapping the old man’s head to one side. Blood leaked from the corner of King Aaron’s mouth.

  The old king looked at Lyfair with tears welling in his eyes, and Lyfair turned his head. He could not meet the king’s sorrowful gaze.

  “You will do nothing, Majesty,” Blackthorn went on. “I have a few things to explain to you.”

  The old man’s lip began to quiver. “I knew it. I wasn’t so sick I couldn’t smell the treachery,” the old man said, almost to himself. “I could have guessed you, William, but Marin? We have been friends since the Church sent you to Bandara. How could you do this to me? You’re a man of God.”

  Lord Blackthorn grabbed the king’s face and squeezed it, turning the king’s head back toward him. “I told you to shut up, you weak imbecile, and I will explain. We had to act before you completely destroyed the realm, because you couldn’t come to grips with your wife’s death. You have been so worried about keeping your precious commoners happy and using them as a surrogate for the late queen’s love, you forgot about the rest of us. It is the nobility that has suffered your absurd reign, but we will suffer it no more.”

  Blackthorn let go of the king’s face. Grabbing the old man by the front of his embroidered doublet, he hurled the sickly monarch to the floor. Bishop Lyfair could not look. He could hear the king gasp for air as he rolled onto the floor. Had Blackthorn lost his mind? Lyfair looked at the door, fearing someone would walk in on the lord accosting the king.

  “You should have just died, Aaron. We all did everything we could, but you were too stubborn. I wish you would have died in your sleep peacefully, but now you leave me no choice.”

  The Lord of Braxton Bluff walked around behind the king and kicked him hard, twice. Lyfair could hear the king pleading weakly, “Please, please stop. I beg you, don’t hurt me, William, Marin, please.” Blackthorn would have none of it. The sadistic lord repeatedly kicked the old man in the stomach, back, and groin. Lyfair squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears; this was never what he wanted. Blackthorn sat down on the divan, out of breath.

  “Would you like a turn, Lyfair?”

  Lyfair opened his eyes and looked at Lord Blackthorn in shock. “I will have no part of this. I’m a man of God, you can’t expect me to participate in this…this torture.”

  “Father, think of him as a worthless piece of dung. That is truly all he really is,” Blackthorn said, gesturing to the old man.

  Lyfair looked down at the man who he had once called friend. “End this, damn you, end it now.” Lyfair’s face shook with rage.

  Blackthorn chuckled. “Calm yourself, Father. If you’ve no wish to aid me in killing this pig, so be it.”

  Blackthorn once again rose to his feet. Only this time he gently rolled King Aaron over on his back. Blackthorn squatted down beside the king. “I wanted to tell you something, Your Majesty.” Blackthorn got down as close as he could to the old king’s ear. “Cain just tried to kill his sister, but we stopped him before he could finish the job. Tragically, I fear she will never be beautiful again, sire. And you should know I am going to make it my life's work to see to it your daughter never knows another day of happiness. She will live in misery for the rest of her life.”

  Bishop Lyfair saw the king roll his head toward Lord Blackthorn, tears streaming down the side of his face. “Please, William, don’t hurt her. Kill me if you will, but don’t harm Raygan.”

  Lyfair could barely hear King Aaron. As he spoke, blood began to fill his mouth. Blackthorn had broken something inside of him. Lord Blackthorn, still kneeling next to the dying king, put one hand over his mouth and the other held the king’s nose closed. King Aaron’s eyes bulged. He looked at Lyfair as he tried to paw at Lord Blackthorn’s hands.

  “Bandara will be restored to her greatness, Albana, and you can rot in Hell." The king’s body quivered for a few moments and went still. Lord Blackthorn stood up and looked at Lyfair. “Done and done, Father. Now help me get him back on the divan.”

  “You are a monster, William,” Lyfair said, looking at the lord with revulsion.

  “Yes, yes, I know I’m a monster, but this monster has just rid you of the pig that would have destroyed our country.”

  The two men put King Aaron back on the divan, taking care to smooth out his clothing. They tipped his head forward and let the blood drain on to the front of the dead king’s shirt.

  “Someone come quick, we need a healer in here. Hurry,” Blackthorn began to shout. The door opened after several seconds and the young surgeon and the two guards raced into the room.

  “The father and I were talking to him and blood began to pour out of his mouth. I fear his heart may have ruptured,” Lord Blackthorn said with feigned panic.

  A
verton looked at Bishop Lyfair, who reluctantly nodded for the young man to proceed. The healer bent down and examined the king. “Yes, I do believe something has ruptured. He is bleeding on the inside." The healer listened to the king’s chest and felt for a pulse. "There is nothing I can do. The king is dead, my lord.”

  “God forgive me,” Lyfair whispered to himself.

  William Blackthorn had returned to his quarters. He had left orders for what was to be done by morning. He hoped the idiots could handle it without him for a few hours, he needed some sleep. Killing the king had been exhausting. The old king had finally caught on but far too late to do anything to stop them. Trying to proclaim his daughter as heir could be a slight problem, but nothing that couldn’t be handled.

  The girl had no ambition and no one would support her if she did try for the throne, although Blackthorn had to admit the girl had charisma. He wished her brother had her flair for inspiring people’s devotion. If he did, there would be no problem securing the loyalty of everyone in the kingdom.

  The nobles could be appeased. It was the commoners that could come to be a thorn in their side if the girl ever tried to make a claim. If Raygan ever became too much trouble, William would see to it she met the same fate as her father.

  A knock came on his door. He pulled it open, irritated by the disturbance. Lady Cort stood in his doorway.

  Why would the princess’s attendant be bothering him? “Can I help you, Lady Cort?”

  “Yes, Lord Blackthorn, I have been trying to find someone to speak to about the princess, then I heard about the king and what happened between the prince and princess. What a terrible business.”

  William didn’t want to have this conversation. In fact, he didn’t want to talk to this stone-faced woman at all. “Yes, it is all very tragic, but I am sure things will work out. Now if you will excuse me, I’m very tired.”

  William started to close the door, but Agnes stepped in, not taking his hint to leave.

  “Since you’re on the council, I would like to speak with you on how the princess should assert her right for the throne. After all, it was the king’s last wish to have her rule the kingdom.”

  Well, this was what she wanted. To meddle in things that didn’t concern her.

  “The princess will never rule Bandara. Cain is the heir and that’s the end of it. Now run along, I’m sure the girl needs to be tended to.” He gently pushed the woman towards the door.

  She shook his hand off and narrowed her eyes. “You can’t just ignore what the king said because the princess is a little scatterbrained. The whole throne room heard it. She is the heir and I will see to it her claim is heard.”

  William grabbed the woman by the throat and kicked his door shut. The look of surprise on her face made him grin. She was a fighter, though. It took a great deal of strength before Agnes finally succumbed. He probably should have just thrown her out, but William hated pushy women. They reminded him of his mother.

  The hour was late and she was tired, but Isabella’s anger kept her awake. Her lady had been terribly beaten by her brother for nothing. Isabella knew all about beatings. Back in Kasena, her father had beaten her often. When she was older, he had traded her to a very cruel man for a new horse. He too had beaten her and visited other cruelties on her as well. Yes, she knew all about beatings. Isabella didn’t like to think about that time in her life. She was fourteen now and almost a woman. The past was the past. Besides, she had to worry about the princess now. The Royal Guards who usually stood watch over the princess’s quarters were gone. Old Lord Blackthorn had ordered them away. Isabella had never liked him, he had a look that made her uneasy. He reminded her of the man who had owned her. Those bad times all seemed so long ago.

  When her owner died in a fight over a stolen horse, she had taken to the road alone. She hadn’t thought about how hard traveling could be. She found out many horrible things can befall an eleven-year-old girl on her own. She was sick and starving on the day the royal coach had passed her. To her surprise, it had stopped, and the coachmen had picked her up and put her inside. That had been the first time Isabella had seen the princess and her father. They had taken her to the palace where she was fed and given warm clothing. After she recovered from her illness, Raygan had come to see her. She asked Isabella if she wanted to serve as one of her handmaidens. She had readily agreed, having nowhere else to go and never having lived anywhere that she got to eat every day. Raygan had taken her to the king and asked if she could keep Isabella, and he had agreed. That had been three years ago. Isabella had never asked the princess why she had picked her up off the road and taken her in, but she knew if the princess hadn’t, she would most likely have died along the road.

  The thin blonde girl had decided if the guards would not defend her lady, she would. She had stolen the butcher knife from the kitchen that now lay in her lap.

  After the healer left, she had cleaned Raygan up the best she could and tried to scrub the bloodstains out of the carpet. Her lady was still unconscious and Isabella was starting to worry. Maybe the healer was wrong and the princess would never wake up. All she could do was wait and hope.

  There was a knock at the door. Isabella jumped up and ran to the end of the bed with the knife clutched in her small hand. Talorn came through the door as quietly as he could. He was greeted by a knife thrust at his throat. The champion of the lists leaned back quick enough for the knife to just miss his throat, and he had to jump back to avoid the next attack.

  He grabbed the wild girl’s arm as the knife came down plunging towards his heart. Talorn twisted the knife out of Isabella’s hand and pushed her down on the floor. The little servant girl popped right back up on her feet. Talorn threw the knife aside and grabbed the girl, pinning her arm to her sides. “Stop it, Isabella, have you gone mad too?”

  “You will not harm my lady, you beast. You’ll have to kill me first.”

  Talorn smiled at the ferocious handmaiden. “I mean your lady no harm. In fact, I came to see if she needs anything. Where are her guards?”

  Isabella stopped struggling. “Your father ordered them away.” Talorn slowly released his grip on her. Isabella stepped back, brushing her dress off and pulling her blonde hair back behind her ears.

  Talorn put his hands on his hips. “You are dangerous for a small girl, and it’s good to know someone is looking after Raygan, but you have nothing to fear from me. I will be sure and tell her Highness that you were protecting her while she slept.”

  “Please don’t do that, my lord. I stole the knife from the kitchens, and my lady would frown on that. I’m sorry I attacked you, but I know you and the prince are friends. I thought he might have sent you to finish what he started.”

  Talorn started to assure Isabella that Raygan was in no danger when the princess screamed, “I‘m blind!” Thunder rumbled through the palace. The storm was beginning.

  Raygan sat in her bed propped up in a sea of pillows. Isabella had combed out her hair; it flowed down shoulders like a lustrous brown river. Her features, however, were another matter. Raygan’s eyes and lips were still swollen and her whole face was black and blue. Her once small nose was bulbous and crooked and much too large for her face. The girl’s jaw was also crooked and hurt badly. The once beautiful Princess of Bandara was gone, replaced by a hideous monster. At least that’s how Raygan saw it. She hadn’t left her room in days and could not bear to look in a mirror. The swelling around her eyes from the beating had gone down enough that she could see.

  The beating had been so bad that she thought she had been blinded, when in truth her eyes had just been swollen so tightly shut she couldn’t open them. It had taken Isabella hours to calm her down after she had come to. Raygan could see now, but it didn’t make things anything better. Her head throbbed and her ribs were even worse. Moving hurt so much it took her breath away.

  Selmac had been in and out over the last few days with his foul smelling potions and awkward words of comfort. She hated Finn Selmac. He had let
her father die and she would never forgive him for that. She wanted no part of his inept administrations. It had been Talorn Blackthorn that told her about her father’s heart giving out the night Cain attacked her. The news was heartrending for Raygan. She should have been there to ease his pain at the end. The only thing she could be thankful for was he died without knowing what Cain had done to her; it would have broken his heart.

  It was Cain’s fault she was not with her father in his final moments and that hurt her worse than any beating he could ever give her.

  She had no one now that her father was dead. There hadn’t been anyone come to see her other than that miserable healer and Cain’s lackey Talorn Blackthorn. Talorn had tried to lessen the pain of her father’s loss and the beating her brother gave her by telling her that the king was in Heaven now, and that Cain was so very sorry for what he had done and he would make it up to her when she was well. It made her sick to listen to the overbearing knight drone on and on. Raygan had told him to leave and not come back. She hated him and his pity almost as much as she hated her brother.

  The only person seeing to her needs was Isabella. Cain had ordered all her other servants away. Even Agnes had disappeared. She had asked Isabella to find out what was going on in the palace for her. The girl had tried, but she couldn’t find out much. Her brother had been in some kind on council meetings along with the high lords for the last few days. Those were the men who would decide Bandara’s fate. Until those meetings were over, no one would know what was happening within the kingdom.

  Isabella had found out what was going on outside the palace. General Voths had been relieved of his command and replaced by Talorn Blackthorn as commander of the armies of Bandara. She told Raygan she had seen Voths leaving the palace the day before and several of the nobles that had come to the palace with questions had been turned away at the gates. There was also a great deal of unrest in the city. The city guard had broken up several disturbances since the king’s death. The people had not forgotten King Aaron’s decree that his daughter was to be his heir. Many of the people were demanding to hear Raygan speak. There were even rumors going through the city that the princess was being held prisoner.