Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  He left in shame, head hung low.

  ‘Another!’ the king ordered. ‘Praise the high priestess’s example, she does not fight, she submits, and allows the healing to proceed. This is the way of order and law.’

  A poorer man approached, staggering, dressed in tattered rags. His teeth were missing, he stunk of putridness.

  Abyslam glared at him. ‘Once. No pleasure.’

  The poor man smirked. ‘Gots to make sure I’m good’n healed, don’t I?’

  ‘Men!’ shouted the king. ‘Bring all the healers. We return to the castle. I leave you to take your healings as needed.’

  The king had found the child healers in the attic; some as young as four, clutched soft toys and shuffled forward, crying.

  As the king road away, Hawrald dragged Toxiv back through the temple away from the disgusting beggar. Abyslam followed. ‘What are you doing?’ Toxiv yelled.

  ‘Hush, priestess,’ Hawrald said.

  At the back of the temple were more healer rooms, then sleeping quarters, a kitchen and linen room.

  ‘Get off me!’ Toxiv shouted. A flood of tears filled her aching chest, then throat, before spilling from her eyes. She never cried. Hawrald approached her, arms wide.

  ‘No. I don’t need your pity.’ She wiped her face.

  ‘Shut that door,’ Hawrald ordered Abyslam before reaching into a basket of old dresses, some covered in blood. ‘Take off your robes, high priestess.’

  Toxiv surveyed the clothes. ‘Why?’ They stunk of horse manure.

  ‘By the gods,’ Abyslam said, slapping Hawrald’s back. ‘I knew you were a man of faith. You have a plan to help her escape!’

  ‘Be quiet,’ said Hawrald, eyes flicking to the door. ‘Never seen the king like this, either he’s mad, or already infected. Don’t matter, he ain’t in his right mind. Priestess, put on the dress.’

  Toxiv threw off her cloak and robes, removed her rings, jewels, and undid the braids in her hair. The undried blood on the dress felt damp on her skin. Hawrald took her silken cloak and jewels into a knapsack. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Castle.’

  Hawrald checked the hallway, then sprinted to the back of the church. Two soldiers guarded the back entrance. Hawrald killed them both, then ducked across a lane where to two horses already saddled, awaited them. Abyslam swung up onto a white mare, Hawrald and Toxiv took the brown one.

  They galloped through the Lowers and before the gates to the Uppers, stopped behind crates. Hawrald unfolded the shimmering cloak, and tied it around the priestess’s shoulders. Abyslam fixed her hair and dressed her in jewels.

  ‘Let me do the talkin’,’ said Hawrald.

  Before the shut gate were four guards. ‘Halt,’ one said. ‘State your names.’

  ‘You know us, Sorbow,’ Hawrald boomed, he nodded at Toxiv. ‘This one’s for the prison.’

  The man nodded. ‘Right you are. Let them pass!’

  The gate rose, and both royal soldiers saluted to the men before kicking their horses towards the castle. At the castle gates, Hawrald the guards immediately recognised Abyslam and Hawrald, waving them through.

  After three hundred feet, Hawrald stabled the horses and led them in through the castle back entrance. Guffaws and hearty bellows echoed down the passageways, and as firelight lit up the way, they turned into a small boot cleaning room.

  ‘We’re waitin’ here. Maybe an hour or two. Men’ll be asleep soon.’

  ‘What do you have planned?’ asked Toxiv.

  He looked sideways at the priestess. ‘There’s escape tunnels runnin’ from the prisons, for a mile so, south. There’ll be heavy guard tonight, so I gots to pretend to lock ya up, m’lady, then Abyslam can take you out, see you get back to Lightend Sanctuary in one piece.’

  ‘Hawrald,’ she said, taking the soldier’s strong wrist. ‘My understudy, Healer Euka needs freeing. What of the sanctuary’s soldiers?’

  ‘After what we made you do back there,’ – he hung his head in shame –‘I’ll see they escape, but you gots to get away first, m’lady. You’ll be safer just you and Abyslam, maybe Healer Euka can go too.’

  ‘What if you can’t get them free?’ Toxiv asked. ‘What if—?’

  ‘Trust me,’ he added.

  Toxiv swallowed. Good men like Hawrald and Abyslam still existed. These were the kinds of men she wanted serving in her army when she took back power from the wicked King Cevznik.

  ‘Holiness,’ Abyslam said. ‘I am an avid devotee. I will defend you with my life. I believe that Hawrald will help you.’

  ‘Very well,’ Toxiv said. ‘You have my trust.’

  31

  Hawrald

  Hawrald, having been assigned to rosters for the prison guard as part of his younger training days, understood the patrol rotations well.

  He left the priestess and Abyslam behind while he went on to search the prison. All cells were full—twenty healers crammed into each one—many wept as he passed.

  ‘Halt, soldier,’ commanded a prison guard, emerging from the shadows to his right.

  ‘Soldier? I ain’t a mere soldier, I’m Hawrald of the king’s royal guard.’

  Taken aback, the guard bowed his head. ‘Sir Hawrald, I did not recognise you. Forgive me.’

  Hawrald pretended offence, touching his chin with the tip of a finger. ‘Who’s guardin’ these prisons tonight?’

  ‘Me, Sir, and two others.’

  ‘I don’t see ‘em.’ Hawrald asked.

  The guard broke into a sweat. ‘They, er, they gone off to fetch mead.’ And then, almost as an afterthought said, ‘Oh, and the prince is here.’

  ‘The prince?’ Hawrald asked, surprised.

  ‘Wooin’ some healer lass.’

  Hawrald’s chest clenched slightly. ‘Know her name?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘All right, follow me,’ Hawrald instructed.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  They passed more rows of sobbing healers with blood stained robes until they reached the prince holding hands with a young healer through iron bars. Hawrald recognised the girl as Healer Eless: the prince’s companion.

  Hawrald cleared his throat.

  ‘Hawrald,’ said Prince Erageo with bloodshot eyes, letting go of Healer Eless’s hands. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Young sire, I got news,’ Hawrald replied, casting a glance at the other guard. ‘For your ears only, My Prince.’

  The prince arched an eyebrow at the other soldier commanding, ‘Leave us. Don’t come back until I say.’

  The soldier straightened his body, slapped his chest and said, ‘Yes, My Prince.’

  Hawrald drew closer to the prince. ‘What has happened?’

  The prince sighed. ‘It’s complicated, soldier, but Eless divulged a secret about my cruel father. When I confronted him, he threw her in prison with the others.’

  ‘Need to talk,’ Hawrald said, guiding the young prince out of healer earshot. ‘King Cevznik passed a law that healers ain’t allowed to refuse healin’s. These are all the younger ones, the older ones, even elderly healers are being ravaged at this moment.’

  The prince covered his mouth in horror. ‘My father did this?’

  Hawrald didn’t want to speak this way, but he had to convey how it was. ‘Ever seen ducks matin’ in the spring?’

  The prince swallowed with fear. ‘Is it that bad?’

  ‘Worse,’ Hawrald replied. ‘He made the high priestess worse than a dog by forcin’ her to heal a man on the temple steps, in a storm, with me holdin’ her down.’

  The prince touched the side of Hawrald’s arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Hawrald hadn’t been speaking as softly as he thought. Healers burst into sobs around him.

  ‘Prince Erageo,’ said Hawrald. ‘I respect bein’ a solder. I do my duty, but tell me ya don’t think a king is above ‘is moral duty, do ya?’ There was no polite way to broach this subject, he had to know the prince’s thoughts.

 
‘No,’ the prince said, alarmed. ‘No, I do not condone my father’s unforgivable actions and I am truly, deeply saddened by what I’ve heard. The healers, like any man or woman, deserve respect.’ He lowered his voice. ‘But I fear my influence in this matter is inconsequential at best. What can I do? My father is strong.’

  Hawrald placed his hands on the prince’s square shoulders, fixing him with a determined look. ‘Set these healers free. Tonight.’

  ‘Yes, Erageo,’ hissed Healer Eless. ‘Set them all free. Come with us. You don’t have to stay.’

  The prince stared at his friend. ‘What example would I set for my people by leaving?’

  ‘There are old tunnels leading out of these prisons,’ Hawrald whispered into the prince’s ear. ‘They head south east, far beyond the city walls.’

  The prince’s eyes bulged. ‘Really? How do you know?’

  Hawrald smiled. ‘Grew up in the Lowers. Father did favours for the nobles when he was a soldier. They’d pay him in gold to deliver ruffle weed, dragonclaw, wine, sweetbreads to rich prisoners. He even helped one escape. The king don’t know ‘bout the tunnels.’

  Hope filled the boy’s face. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll set them free. I’ll bring drugged wine to the guards.’

  Hawrald felt a rush of pride for the lad, and wondered if he might father a son one day. The kind and merciful prince would bring a golden age to Senya. The sooner he ruled, the better. ‘When the healers are out, the king will ride after ‘em,’ Hawrald said. ‘If you take the blame, the king’ll bring me with him when he goes after ‘em with the army.’

  The prince’s face fell. ‘How could you stop him?’

  ‘Dunno,’ said Hawrald. ‘I’ll do somethin’.’

  ‘Not without my approval, you won’t,’ said a voice from the nearest cell. Hawrald looked over to see Priestess Jewlsa.

  ‘Priestess,’ said the prince, bowing. ‘I did not see you there, forgive me. And forgive me for what has happened.’

  ‘Have no regrets, young prince; you are not your father. And when you rule one day you may choose to act better.’

  The prince bowed. ‘I will serve my people to the best of my ability.’

  Hawrald went to the priestess, and the prince joined them in a huddle. ‘The high priestess is here. Abyslam too, he’ll see the high priestess to safety, and I’ll show ‘em the way to the tunnels.’

  ‘Abyslam. The new royal soldier?’ the prince asked.

  ‘Aye, he’s here too, a devout follower of the sun god; he’ll go with ya. He’s got a good ‘eart. Once they’re free of danger, I’ll be back and then’—he looked at Priestess Jewlsa—‘in the early hours, I’ll lead ya out.’

  ‘We’ll go south to Old Bow,’ she said. ‘The healers from all over Senya are fleeing there.’

  Hawrald felt hundreds of eyes on him. When he turned, the golden eyed beauties clutched the iron bars of their prisons, beaming at him as if he were a god, making him blush. He ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘How did the high priestess get here?’ the prince asked.

  ‘I got my ways,’ Hawrald replied, smirking.

  ‘Yes, you certainly do, don’t you?’ the prince grinned.

  Deep guard voices echoed off the solid walls, the guards were returning.

  ‘Go, Hawrald,’ said the prince. ‘I’ll send ‘em away again.’

  Hawrald sprinted along the prison, keeping to the shadows and eventually joined the high priestess and Abyslam.

  ‘What happened?’ asked the high priestess.

  ‘You’re both getting out. Ready?’ he said to them, grinning. Then gestured for them to follow.

  Hawrald inched out into the torchlight, listening. Seeing no guards, he led them to the prince and Priestess Jewlsa. Prince Erageo handed Hawrald the keys to the cells. They let Healer Euka out first.

  ‘Will you take Healer Eless with you?’ the prince asked.

  ‘No Erageo,’ begged Healer Eless. ‘I want to stay with you.’

  ‘She can come with me,’ said Priestess Jewlsa reassuringly. ‘I intend to apply to Emperor Phoh for refuge in Bivinia.’

  ‘Bivinians ain’t friendly to healers,’ Hawrald cautioned. ‘I’d avoid them if I were you.’

  ‘The emperor also hates the king,’ Priestess Jewlsa replied. ‘I am certain I can persuade him, soldier.’

  ‘The high priestess wishes for Healer Euka to come with us,’ said Abyslam.

  ‘After I’ve shown you to the tunnels, I’ll return for you, Priestess Jewlsa,’ said Hawrald.

  ‘I’ll drug the guards,’ said Prince Erageo.

  Hawrald agreed. ‘Can’t take you the whole way, Priestess. The king’ll notice me gone.’

  ‘Then it’s settled,’ said Priestess Jewlsa. She embraced the high priestess.

  ‘I will not forget this, soldiers, and you, Prince Erageo,’ High Priestess Toxiv said. ‘When you are king, we shall have a strong and trusting alliance.’

  The prince bowed his head. ‘I should like that.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Healer Euka. ‘We are forging the future of our country’s alliances this very moment. How thrilling!’

  Hawrald puffed out his chest at being part of something great. He’d become a soldier to uphold the law and defend the weak, even if it meant defying a king. ‘If we’re careful and focus, ain’t nothin’ can stop us.’

  ‘Well then,’ said the high priestess. ‘Which way to these tunnels?’

  32

  Toxiv

  Toxiv stumbled down the dank, uneven stone passage behind Hawrald. Down there, the dark could choke a man. Cold droplets splashed onto Toxiv’s scalp; she pulled up her hood. Hawrald’s torch hissed as they leaped through a curtain of water, landing knee high in wet.

  ‘Ugh,’ Toxiv said as freezing liquid flooded her boots.

  ‘Let me, holiness,’ Abyslam said, kneeling to undo her boots. Toxiv grabbed his shoulder for balance while he tipped out the water from her footwear. He stared up at her, eyes glowing with reverence. ‘Better?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, staring down at the handsome lad who stood to encourage her onwards.

  After a half hour, the group reached a dead end. Water dribbled down from an iron grate two to three feet in diameter. A breeze caressed Toxiv’s face.

  ‘Is that...?’ Healer Euka asked.

  Hawrald beamed with pride. ‘Aye, here’s your road to freedom.’

  ‘Seems a little…tight,’ Abyslam said, glancing at Toxiv.

  ‘Shh,’ Hawrald said. ‘Listen.’

  Upon silencing they heard the faint whooshing of rushing water. ‘Ain’t far now,’ Hawrald said, trying to raise their spirits. ‘A short crawl and we’ll be out at the waterfall. It’s fed by the Great Lake. Lots of trees about too.’ Hawrald reached under his leather retrieving a folded piece of parchment which he handed to the high priestess.

  Toxiv unravelled it under Hawrald’s torchlight to see a map of Senya with dotted lines running from the waterfall to the town of Ayo, then to Lightend Sanctuary. She stared up into Hawrald’s eyes. ‘You made this?’

  ‘Aye,’ he said.

  ‘I won’t forget your kindness.’

  Abyslam stared at his fellow soldier. ‘When did you make a map?’

  Hawrald shrugged. ‘Gotta have a plan.’

  Abyslam tapped Hawrald’s arm affectionately. ‘You goin’ back?’

  ‘Gonna be a long night,’ said Hawrald, then picked the lock of the grate and swung it open. Abyslam crawled in first.

  ‘Crawl along the tunnel bout thirty feet, said Hawrald. ‘There’s another grate. Ain’t no key for it, gotta kick it out.’ Hawrald passed him a lock pick. ‘If ya need it.’

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Abyslam added. ‘I want to say goodbye to my mother and father before I leave for good.’

  ‘Be careful,’ said Hawrald. ‘Keep off the roads.’

  Healer Euka climbed in next, then Toxiv last. Grateful to Hawrald, she said, ‘There’ll always be a home for you, soldier, at L
ightend Sanctuary.’

  ‘’preciate that, m’lady, but Juxon’s my home.’

  Hawrald closed the grate, and Toxiv watched the light of his torch disappearing into the tunnel depths. Watery muck soaked into her robes as she turned towards freedom. Soon, she’d be out of the putrid city and back to the comfort of Lightend Sanctuary. There she’d build an army mighty enough to challenge the king’s.

  Without healers, the king’s army would die out. To save them he’d either march on Lightend Sanctuary and Meligna, or chase Priestess Jewlsa south to Bivinia.

  She prayed Lord Morkat had responded obligingly to her letter. If she aligned with the lord of Meligna, and convinced him to turn against the king, victory would be hers.

  33

  Toxiv

  The crashing, sloshing waterfall was the night’s dominant sound. Toxiv barely heard her own thoughts as they emerged from the tunnel onto a ledge thirty feet high above the rapids.

  ‘The moon is dim,’ said Abyslam, regarding the toenail shaped moon. ‘The night will hide us.’ He started climbing up the rocky incline where blades of grass slicked against their faces.

  At the foot of one boulder Toxiv reached up to Abyslam for help to scale it. As he grasped her wrist to pull her up, Toxiv found his gaze lingering where their skin touched, but she brushed the attention aside as a sort of hero worship.

  At the top of the cliff, a gust of icy wind slammed against their damp clothes. Abyslam noticed Toxiv shivering and draped his fur-lined cloak around her shoulders.

  ‘Anything you need, Priestess, you only need ask.’

  Toxiv stole a glance at his smooth face, and symmetrical lips. Sincere and sultry eyes made her breath seize in her chest. ‘Is that right, soldier?’ There was something in him she recognised. A similar intensity that Shovock once possessed, as if Abyslam held a shard of mirrored glass up to her soul.

  A smile played around his lips. ‘Call me Abyslam.’

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Address me as Toxiv.’