by Guy Antibes
The Fractured Empire
Disinherited Prince Series
Book Seven
By
Guy Antibes
Table of Contents
Map of the continent of Eastril
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Excerpt from The Sorcerer’s Song
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
A Bit About Guy
Books by Guy Antibes
The Fractured Empire
Copyright ©2017 Guy Antibes. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission of the author.
~
This is a work of fiction. There are no real locations used in the book, the people, settings and specific places are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual persons, locations, or places are purely coincidental.
Published by CasiePress LLC in Salt Lake City, UT, August 2017.
www.casiepress.com
Cover & Book Design: Kenneth Cassell
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
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And now we approach the end of our little tale (seven volumes, a novella, over 2,100 pages) about the Disinherited Prince. As with all my series, the last book is filled with sweet memories of the characters I’ve created. So it begins with Poldon Fairfield and ends with Pol Cissert Pastelle. Many soldiers have crossed the river, and I’m glad they all made the journey. Thank you for coming along with me.
I’d like to thank Judy and Ken for contributions on this episode and my wife Bev, who helped along the way.
— Guy Antibes
In the World of Phairoon
Map of the southern portion of the continent of Eastril and the continent of Daera
(Contact Guy for a clearer map at www.guyantibes.com)
The Fractured Empire
~
Chapter One
~
P ol had to wipe away an unbidden tear when he disengaged from Shira after the clapping started. He knew his face turned redder than Shira’s, but he didn’t care. She was real and back with him.
He looked at all the familiar faces and even caught Karo Nagoya’s in the crowd. Pol would have a deep conversation with the Shinkyan, but not now. Not after being away for four years spent on the not-as-mysterious continent of Daera.
A woman cleared her throat behind Pol. Gula! “Oh! I’m sorry, I was intent on my homecoming,” Pol said, apologizing. “This is Gula, a Zasosian healer, and my other friend is Akil D’Boria, another Zasosian who is interested in trading with the Empire. Traxus will have his hands busy helping to run the whole country, if my guess is correct.”
“And it usually is,” Abbot Pleagor said, clapping Pol on the back.
Pol’s Zasosian friends stood back while those waiting at the dock converged on Pol, smothering him with well wishes and questions. He finally had to raise his hands. “Let’s permit the ship to properly dock, and then we head to the monastery.” He glanced at the bright Imperial sky and grinned. “Maybe we can go to the Monastery Assembly building in town, and I can tell you all what happened at once. Is that permissible, Abbot?”
“It is a good idea. You don’t have to tell your story twenty times that way.”
Pol did not have any illusions that he would get away with one discussion of four years gone from the Empire, but a lot of his friends and acquaintances deserved to know how he had fared. He looked around the village, amazed at the changes. Even the town’s smell had changed from what Pol remembered.
By the time he entered the hall at Deftnis port, which had grown from the little village serving the monastery in the time he had gone, someone had set out benches. The crowd from the docks had grown in number as more monks began to file into the big room.
The Abbot stood. “As you all know, Pol Cissert Pastelle,” he turned and nodded to Pol, “has just returned from Daera. He will now describe his journey, so you don’t have to pester him with questions. I reserve the right to do so at a later time.” The crowd laughed. The Abbot motioned for Pol to stand.
He really wanted to talk to Shira and hold her hand and kiss her again in a more private setting, but that would come. He looked out at the crowd. Most eyes were on him, waiting for his story.
“The reason I left you all was because of that man.” Pol pointed to Karo Nagoya. “Thinking it in the best interests of Shinkya to remove me from that country, he hit me over the head and dragged me to Daera. Demeron, who I hope made it off the ship at the dock safely—,” They all heard a loud whinny from outside the door. That brought more laughter. “I guess he did.” Pol grinned, full of happy emotion. “My trusty companion was there to guide me since Karo’s people had warded my brain so I wouldn’t remember people or places.” Pol felt his eyes water as the unconditional support that Demeron had given him during his entire trip overwhelmed him for a moment.
Pol took a deep breath and then he described the highlights of his many journeys on Daera. “And now I’m back with you, my original supporters. I’d like to say it seems like yesterday, but it doesn’t. The ward that the Scorpion faction placed on me didn’t block new memories, and I remember everything that happened to me. If anyone has any general questions, I’ll answer a few.”
“How did you get so tall?” Paki said to another round of laughter.
“I guess I am a late developer. I’m very happy to look down on you now. I feel different, I must say, as I reflect on how I was when I left to go to Shinkya four years ago, but I’m the same person in most ways.”
“Good,” Shira said behind him.
Even Pol laughed that time.
He answered a few questions about the cultures, but Abbot Pleagor stopped the session. “I hope you’ll give Pol a chance to rest. The Empire didn’t stand still while he wasn’t with us and he has a lot to learn about the current Imperial state.”
The Abbot’s comments quieted the crowd. Pol walked out and found Demeron standing just outside the door.
Even I could not have done better, Demeron said. The horse looked at Shira. How is Amble? She is safe?
Shira looked surprised. “I forgot you can talk to other magicians! She is doing well and misses you, for a horse, she always reminds me.”
Demeron nodded his head. I look forward to meeting up with the herd.
“Some of your friends have left with linked magicians and live out in the Empire, but there are horses born after you have gone. The herd has done well in Deftnis.”
Demeron dipped his head for Shira to touch. Thank you.
~
Everything looked the same as Pol’s eyes took in the Deftnis Monastery gate. Th
ere was a new Deftnis symbol carved into new wood. The smell of the sea still permeated everything, making Pol smile as he breathed in. He had never paid attention to how Deftnis felt and smelled before he left, but he readily remembered, and they were now part of the essence of the monastery.
Abbot Pleagor led Pol down to the same apartments he had shared with Handor. “My stepbrother wasn’t out at the dock,” Pol said.
“He left after staying with us for two years. The boy thrived at Deftnis. Searl patched him up as well as he could and now claims Handor could outlive us all. The truth is he will always be a bit frail, but he is definitely strong enough to rule. Hazett has sent us his thanks for saving his son a number of times.” The Abbot peered into Pol’s eyes. “Is that disappointing?”
Pol smiled. “Not at all. I may have changed, but not that much. I have no desire to rule anything.”
“Not your duchy? Shira has done a wonderful job with that.”
“Shira?” Pol said. “She was at my duchy?”
“I think you need to talk to her next. She is freshening up in the apartment across from yours. Make sure you maintain certain proprieties at the monastery, even if you are of age, now that you have returned. I’ll leave you to doing a little unpacking. The Emperor wants you in Yastan as soon as you can leave.”
“I don’t want to leave Deftnis,” Pol said. He rummaged around in his bags that the monks had delivered to his rooms while he was telling his story in the town. “I had this with me the entire time and didn’t remember what it was until a few months ago.”
Pol lifted out the black cord denoting a Deftnis-rated black magician, the highest level recognized by the monastery.
“I’m happy you had it with you. Keep it as a lucky token. It has served you well, even if you did have to use your brain more than your magic for much of your absence.” The Abbot clapped Pol on his shoulder. “I still have some possessions you left behind. The clothes no longer fit, but there are other things. I’ll have them shipped to your duchy.”
“My duchy,” Pol snorted, “a place I’ve never been.”
“I have,” Shira said, standing behind him wearing the pretty yellow dress she wore at the dock.
Pol’s heart beat faster seeing her smiling at him.
“I’ll go,” the Abbot said.
Shira shut the door. “You haven’t heard my story yet,” she said. She put her arms around Pol. “I can’t believe you are here.” She pushed away and looked up at his eyes. “The Empire is in trouble.”
Pol didn’t want the moment to slip away, so he said, “For me, I only thought of you for a few months in all those four years. I hope you’ll forgive me. Am I in trouble?”
“Not yet,” Shira said, “but soon.”
She sat on the couch and patted the spot by her side. “It’s time for me to talk.”
Pol held her hand while Shira told Pol of her four years away from Shinkya. She explained how Redearth worked and described her efforts to turn Redearth into an armed duchy.
“You are now a General, eh?” Pol said.
Shira smiled a bit too wistfully for Pol’s comfort. “I did it for you.”
Pol gripped both her hands. “For us. But it looks like we have a job to do before we can settle down.”
“We settle down?”
Pol nodded. “Of course. I’m so beholden to you I have no choice but to make the position of mistress of the manor a permanent one, if you are willing.”
They hugged, but he gently pushed her away. “We can’t be intimate until the Empire is put back together. I’ll ask Hazett to make me commander of the south or something, so we can return to Redearth, but our plans can’t be realized until the Empire is stable.”
Shira looked at him with a tearful smile. “I know,” she said huskily. “But now we can work together, again.”
Pol nodded. “Together again.”
~~~
Chapter Two
~
A bbot Pleagor’s office looked no different from when Pol had visited before.
“There will be a new occupant at this time next year,” the abbot said. “I’ll be retiring soon. Vactor will replace me.”
Pol looked at his former magic teacher, who sat next to him.
The abbot waved his hand. “I’m not dying, just a bit tired. I want to enjoy my final days walking in Deftnis Port; it’s a true port now.” He smiled. “So, let’s get down to some business. We are slimming down the monastery. Our acolytes will dwindle a bit. We have accepted Tesna monastery as a satellite group. Monk Edgebare will be leaving with a contingent to lead them. Your friend Paki is returning to Redearth with a group of volunteers from Port Mancus and the village. It is not safe to travel through North Salvan, but there is a new pass that is suitable for smaller groups that skirts the corners of Finster and North Salvan, if you cut through a small piece of uninhabited Shinkya. The Shinkyan horses knew of it, oddly enough,” the abbot smiled.
“I can go with them?” Pol said.
The abbot shook his head. He tossed a message to Pol. “You are to report to your father, the Emperor, at your earliest convenience.” He gave Pol another message. “Ranno Wissingbel gives you no more than three days at Deftnis to get over your voyage before heading north.”
“I have no choice?” Pol said.
“None.”
Pol sighed. He knew the Empire had first claim on him, but that did not mean he had to like the restraint. “Who will be accompanying me to Yastan?”
The abbot moved forward and rubbed his hands. “In that, there is more flexibility. Who do you want?”
Pol thought. “I’d like Darrol to travel with Paki. If he’s still my sword man, I want him defending the home I’ve never visited. Ako, if she will go, Fadden, Akil, my Zasosian friend needs some Yastan contacts, and Shira, of course.”
Vactor chuckled. “Of course. Ako is her friend, although she recently stayed at Mancus Abbey. Gula, the Zasosian healer, will take her place, perhaps?”
Pol nodded. “She needs to work with Searl. She can see inside people, and that makes her a valuable resource.”
“I didn’t know that,” the abbot said.
“I don’t want a detachment of soldiers to highlight my rank since I suppose I am still an Imperial Prince.”
“You are, My Prince,” Vactor said, mockingly.
Pol gave his former teacher a rueful smile and nodded. “I am. I admit it.”
Vactor smiled. “You have grown.”
Pol let the comment slide from his friend. “In two days, I’ll leave. Demeron wanted some time with the herd, but after four years, everyone’s perspective can change, even a horse’s.”
~
The little plain at the back of Deftnis Isle was still big enough to accommodate the entire herd of Shinkyan horses. Pol called to Demeron, who returned with Amble and another horse.
This is Hunter, Fadden’s newly bonded horse, Demeron said.
“How new?” Pol said.
A few hours ago. Demeron looked at the chestnut stallion. Right, Hunter?
The horse nodded. More horses in the field suddenly ran towards Pol. Demeron introduced the colts. Deftnis Isle hadn’t stopped the Shinkyan horses from growing the herd.
“Can all these horses bond with humans?”
Demeron nodded. There are a few who cannot.
“Is there one who would like to travel to Yastan? My friend Akil doesn’t have a horse. We will be Ako, Fadden, Shira, and myself traveling, as well.”
A large golden stallion, nearly as big as Demeron came closer.
“This one would. He doesn’t have a name, but he was one of the first foals at Deftnis.”
“Good. Amble, Ako’s horse, and you can train the other two. We leave in two days.”
~
Pol took a tray and set it down in front of his old friends Paki and Darrol in the Deftnis commissary.
“You’ll be leaving without me,” Paki said.
Pol could see the disappointment on his fri
end’s face. “I need Darrol and you to protect my estate. Shira won’t be returning quite yet, and I’d feel better if the two of you were there to watch out for my interests. I’ll write out commissions for the pair of you as captains in my service. I suppose I could give you titles, but I’m uncomfortable doing that at this point.”
“A title in the future?” Paki said, as his eyebrows rose. “Sir Pakkingail?”
Pol smiled, happy to have found a suitable reward for Paki’s helping to protect his estate. “Sir Pakkingail and Sir Darrol…if you do a good job.”
“Of course!” Paki said. “There are pretty girls in your duchy! Did you know that?”
“You know better than I, but restraint needs to be shown.”
“Of course!” Paki said. “When do we leave?”
“Soon. See Abbot Pleagor.”
Pol asked Paki about his mother, who had eventually made it to Yastan and found a chief cook position in the Instrument’s commissary. Pol promised to visit her when he reached Yastan.
“Does that work for you, Darrol?”
“I live to serve My Imperial Prince. I can’t think of a better posting unless you were there.”
“I will be, eventually,” Pol said.
With that out of the way, Pol sought out one last friend before he left Deftnis.
Jonness had not quite finished with a class of acolytes when Pol stepped into his large workroom/classroom.
“You are leaving tomorrow morning?” Jonness asked as he dismissed class a bit early.
“I am. I didn’t have an opportunity to talk to you.”
The monk smiled. “I am flattered you sought me out.”
“What have you heard about the enemy troops?” Pol knew Jonness would know more about Grostin’s forces than anyone else in the monastery, besides Fadden.
“They are a tough group. I cannot say if they are all mind-controlled, but I suspect many are. Shira knows better about that than I do. I’ve talked a lot about their strategies with Shira, who has developed a fine military mind, by the way, and she agrees.”
