The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  Screams stirred him from sleep. His head was thick with wine, and it took a moment for him to realize that Danika was in his room. Her hair was a mess, and the dark paint around her eyes was smudged terribly.

  “Father, you must wake up,” she said frantically.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. Danika pointed to the window. He could see his room was lit with an orange glow.

  Petru leaped from his bed and looked outside. The large stable where the carriages were housed was on fire, as were the large pavilions where Mayson’s nobles slept. Men fought in the flickering light, and it was too difficult to see who had attack the inn. “Danika, we must rouse King Mayson. Go quickly, now.”

  Danika stood staring at him. Petru thought the young woman was too afraid to move. He reached down and shook Eldin. The prince didn’t respond. Rolling the young man over, he found that the prince’s throat had been cut. He stared at the ceiling with sightless eyes, blood still dripping from the horrible gash in his neck.

  Petru held the three-fingered sign of God over his heart. “Eldin is dead, Danika; I must get to Henry and Mayson.”

  He started for the door, but Danika threw herself into his arms with her face buried in his neck. “They’re dead too, Father—Mayson, Breeda, even Henry.”

  Petru pushed her back by the shoulders. “What are you saying?”

  “Everyone is dead, Father, that’s what I am saying. Everyone, that is, but you.”

  Petru barely felt the dagger thrust. He looked down and saw a dark stain spreading across his doublet. “Danika?” he stammered.

  The king’s mind would not grasp what was happening. She thrust the dagger into his belly once again. This time, he fell to his knees. Petru looked up at his beautiful daughter as he rolled over on to his back, still trying to comprehend what was befalling him.

  Danika jumped down, straddling his waist. He held his hand up weakly as she raised the dagger above her head with both hands. “Why, dear girl? Why?” he asked, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

  “For my lord and love, I belong to Baron Serban, Father. I always have,” she answered smugly.

  Petru tried to speak, but Danika plunged the dagger into him again and again. The last sound he heard was his daughter’s wild laughter.

  Danika strolled from the fiery inn, covered in blood, as casually as if she was taking a walk in the palace’s courtyard. The party from Warmark had been massacred. None had escaped the swift and violent attack. Pushing her bloody hair out of her eyes, she smiled at Alexis’s mercenary captain as he cleaned the gore from his sword.

  She had done her work well and was sure her lord would be proud. Perhaps now he would fulfill the promise he made so long ago and make her beauty everlasting.

  “I am ready to return to the palace,” she told Captain Snell.

  “Are you sure they are all dead?” he asked without emotion.

  “Yes, I killed them all, even the innkeeper and his little family for good measure,” Danika said, shaking her hair back.

  The mercenary grinned wickedly. “The baron will be pleased.”

  Danika handed him the dagger she had murdered her own bridal party with. “He certainly should be. Now, take me home.”

  The march north hadn’t been difficult, the weather had been fine, and they had met no resistance. By K’xarr’s estimates, just short of seven thousand men had deserted the king’s army to follow their prince. Most were young and new to the Trimenian army. Maybe two thousand were horse soldiers, the rest heavy infantry and a few pikemen. Archers were in short supply, though Constantine’s contribution to the rebel army held a good many men with bows in their hands. Hunters mostly, and men who put food on their table with skill when coin was in short supply. He hoped they had no less trouble killing men than they did a deer.

  Peasants from throughout the countryside had joined the march to Brova. Not the numbers Constantine had promised, but nearly six thousand, which was still more than K’xarr would have imagined the peasant general could produce. Most were unarmored, untrained, and armed with whatever they had found around their homes or farms. The rebels would be of little use in the heat of a real battle. K’xarr estimated that a third of them wouldn’t even be joining in the fight. They were wives and children, families that had followed the husbands, grandfathers, or brothers to war.

  He had stopped their progress a half-day outside the capital city, to wait for Rufio to report in before he moved any closer. His lieutenant’s information could alter the decisions he might make.

  The trip had not been without its aggravations. Katrina had refused to share his bed on the two-week ride to the capital. She had told him she didn’t want anyone to know about them just yet. K’xarr didn’t know what there was to know about them, but he had been unhappy not to have the energetic lover in his blankets when night fell.

  There had also been the constant tension between Endra and Kian. It was the shieldmaiden who had been the antagonist this time around. Kian had not been able to do anything to suit the woman. The swordsman had finally given up trying, and the two were no longer speaking. The rift between them worried him. Kian had been unstable ever since his brother had worked his evil on the half-breed. Endra had always kept him focused. Without her attention, the Slayer could become an issue.

  Endra herself had gotten very friendly with Kago of late. It wasn’t something K’xarr wanted to deal with, though the situation could pose a problem for him. His half-Sidian lieutenant was ambitious, headstrong, and a deadly swordsman. Kago had also grown more brazen in his arrogance now that he had Endra’s attention and Malice on his hip. And Kian was well…Kian. He wished the whole mess would just go away.

  To top things off, the whole situation had put Cromwell in a mood not suited for man nor beast. The surly Toran’s anger had grown with every mile they traveled. Kian and Endra were his friends, and K’xarr would risk his life for either of them, but sometimes a person could care too much. Cromwell was one of those people.

  The Toran was stubborn, rash, and loyal to a fault. K’xarr loved the big brute like a brother, but sometimes he wished his large friend would keep his mouth shut. His crude comments directed at Kago hadn’t helped the situation at all.

  He ordered a temporary camp set up. Those who would not fight could await the battle’s outcome there. K’xarr wished Rhys was with them to set up a field hospital. The healer’s powers were extraordinary, and he had never seen his skill’s equaled when it came to the sick and wounded. Without the accomplished physician’s presence, men would die who would have otherwise survived the battle.

  He would just have to make do with the peasants who claimed to be adept in the healing arts. Once everyone was settled, he would set a plan of action and attack Brova.

  The city walls were not more than fifteen feet high and had been built to regulate trade to the city, not to keep out an opposing army. The palace’s defenses were a completely different monster and he would deal with that when the time came. For now, he needed to capture the city to stage the assault on the palace.

  Late in the afternoon, Rufio rode in. He told K’xarr it would be easier to show him what he had learned rather than tell him. The mercenary captain agreed. He wanted to take a good look at the city for himself anyway.

  Gathering Kago and Prince Dimitri, K’xarr followed Rufio north. K’xarr hadn’t wanted to bring the prince along, but he felt he should include the man in their strategy since the majority of the troops belonged to him.

  Pepca volunteered to come along to help with her brother, but the prince had refused to allow her to accompany him. K’xarr had given Rufio the duty of being the man’s eyes. The Dragitan rode just ahead of the prince and instructed him on the terrain in front of them. The ride was only a couple of hours, and the prince had adapted well without his sight. K’xarr didn’t know if he would have fared as well being unable to see what was ahead.

  Pulling their mounts to a stop on a small rise a good dista
nce from the capital, the four men dismounted and gazed out at Brova.

  “Well, Dimitri, what do you think?” K’xarr asked.

  The prince chuckled ironically. “I haven’t any idea what I am looking at, Captain.”

  Rufio cover his mouth to hide a snicker and Kago shook his head at his captain’s lapse.

  “Damn it, I forgot, Highness,” K’xarr said sheepishly.

  “Do forgive my jest, Captain.” The prince grinned. “In any case, there is no need for me to see it. I have lived my whole life looking down on Brova from the palace. I remember it by heart, so there is no need to explain the city or the surrounding countryside to me, only how Serban has positioned his troops.”

  “Well, it looks like the baron may know we are coming. He has set his forces outside the city’s walls and they look prepared to repel an attack. It doesn’t seem he is too worried about us. They are in defensive formations. He’s not planning on marching out to attack any time soon. Nor does it appear they plan to use the city’s defenses. His men are not even behind the walls.”

  Dimitri sighed. “The walls aren’t high or fortified. The baron plans to overwhelm us with his superior troops. Serban is arrogant. If he has a weakness, that is it. He thinks us unable to win a head to head fight against him.”

  “K’xarr, look there.” Rufio pointed to the baron’s army. “That is what I wanted to show you. There are no more than a thousand cavalrymen, and the rest are heavy infantry. If we can keep them out of the city, we might have an advantage. With the prince’s horse soldiers and the Sons, we should be able to outmaneuver them.”

  The captain squinted at the distance. “Damn it, we should have brought Kian. His eyes are better than ours. I do think you’re right, though.”

  “I would like to point out that if what Lieutenant Rufio said was correct, and a large number of their force has been drawn from the royal guard, that will work in our favor as well. Those men are not trained for open war,” Dimitri added.

  “It will be difficult for your men to go up against their own, regardless of what Serban or we want. I would say neither side is in a big a hurry to engage the other,” Rufio said.

  “He is right. The men deserted to follow you, but do they have enough of a quarrel to kill their fellow countrymen?” K’xarr said, putting his hand on the prince’s shoulder.

  “I thought about that very thing, gentlemen, and we must give them a cause,” Dimitri said, his empty eyes fixed on the city.

  “You have something in mind?” Kago asked, looking at his fingernails.

  “I do. When we attack, I will personally lead my men into battle.”

  K’xarr glanced from Rufio to Kago, all three knowing what riding into battle would mean for the prince. “I can’t let you do that,” K’xarr said. “It would be certain death. There is no way we could protect you in the middle of a battlefield.”

  Dimitri raised his chin. “I know what it means. It is the best way I can serve my country, Captain Strom. If you were me, could you live this way? I am a prince and a warrior. I lost both those things when that creature took my eyes. It will bring me peace to know I died helping to rid Trimenia of that evil thing.”

  “I understand, but your sister will never allow it. There are others who will oppose it as well.”

  “There are few that really know of my condition. I have been careful, and I rode in a wagon all the way up here to keep my secret. Besides, my soldiers will expect me to be with them when we ride into battle, and as far as Pepca goes, I will convince her it is the right thing to do. My death might give the men the will to do what must be done.”

  “He is right,” Rufio said quietly.

  Kago nodded his agreement. “You are a brave man, Prince Dimitri.”

  K’xarr thought for a moment. He didn’t like the idea, although the prince’s death might just serve his purpose. “Alright, Highness, we’ll do this. I hope you know what kind of hell I am going to get for it, though.”

  “That is you burden, Strom, and one I wish I could keep from you. There is something else I must ask of you, a personal favor, you might say.”

  “What is it?” K’xarr asked.

  “With my death, my sister Danika will become heir to Trimenia; with her having wed Prince Henry, Warmark will have a claim to my country.”

  “If the army Serban sent has crossed into Warmark, you’re at war with them now.”

  “True, and if we defeat the baron, Mayson can end the war by setting Danika on the throne here in Brova. She by rights would rule and could call an end to the war.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Rufio said.

  “No. Trimenia would become nothing more than a principality of Warmark with King Mayson’s idiotic son sharing the throne with Danika. Within a generation, my family would no longer be the rulers of Trimenia. That is why I must ask you to see Pepca installed as queen, and help her secure the kingdom.”

  “So you want us to continue the war with King Mayson, even if we take Trimenia from Serban?” K’xarr asked.

  “Yes, you must promise me you will see Trimenia ruled by the Lasota family.”

  “Okay, I am game. War is how we make a living. It’s your sister that will need convincing. She doesn’t seem the ambitious type.”

  “Pepca is young and she doesn’t know what she is capable of. My father and mother were fools. It is their youngest daughter who is the best of us.” Dimitri seemed to slip into his own thoughts.

  K’xarr looked at Kago and Rufio. Their expressions were easy to read, both men were prepared to see that the girl became queen. “You have my word on it, Highness.”

  Dimitri held out his hand and waited. K’xarr took it in a warrior’s grip.

  The prince gave the three warriors a sad grin. “If that is settled, I am prepared to die for Trimenia, and your promise.”

  The four men rode to rejoin the army, Rufio leading Dimitri’s horse by the reins. “Make sure to hand those back to the prince when we get near the camp. His horse will follow ours on in,” K’xarr called to Rufio.

  The Dragitan waved his acknowledgement.

  Thinking it a good time to try and ease his mind about other matters, K’xarr rode a little ahead and waved Kago to join him. His lieutenant cantered up alongside him.

  Pushing the ringlets of dark hair back from his eyes, Kago regarded his captain. “What’s on your mind?”

  “You are,” K’xarr said. He knew the best way to deal with Kago was to be direct.

  Kago rubbed at the scar on his face and leaned back in his saddle. “I don’t know why I would be of any concern to you.”

  “You and Endra, what is going on, Kago?”

  Kago smiled. K’xarr could see the anger in it. His lieutenant had never liked being questioned. “What I do with the woman is none of your affair…Captain. I follow your orders and do my duty to this company. I see no reason to be interrogated on who shares my bed. Moreover, have you not taught us that we are all brothers?”

  “Every member of the company is a brother or a sister for that matter, but I think your shagging might come with consequences.”

  “Even if I was with her, I have broken no code or command. She is no man’s wife, Captain. On top of that, do you believe anyone can make Endra do something she doesn’t want to do?

  “Kian is my friend, Kago.”

  “Am I not?”

  It was true, K’xarr liked the half-Sidian. The two of them shared many of the same traits. That was the trouble. Their friendship was more of a rivalry, two dogs after the same bone. “A good question. Since you have gotten your hands on Malice, I not so sure.”

  Kago reached down and wrapped his hand around the sword’s hilt. “It is hard not to be a little prideful when a god has offered you their support, and I must tell you, the Mistress is one to keep her word.” Kago lean forward and patted his horse’s neck. “We are still friends, K’xarr, and I know you and the half-breed are as well. I just don’t see how any of this involves my captain?
<
br />   “I’m not speaking as your captain. I am talking to you as a friend. I don’t want to see you gutted for being a fool. You think I have ridden this long with Endra and not had thoughts about her? Hell, the whole company has. Her beauty is not easily ignored, but you are playing a dangerous game with the Slayer, and I won’t have your cock screwing things up for the Sons. Do you understand?”

  Kago winked. “I will ease back…for now. I’m loyal to this brotherhood and respect what you have achieved, K’xarr, but what is mine is mine. If the woman comes to me, I will not refuse her.”

  “As your commander, I can expect no more. As your friend, I am warning you, Kago. This could all go sideways for you.”

  “If a man doesn’t take chances, he wins nothing,” Kago said with a half-grin.

  “True, but I have ridden with Endra and Kian for several years now. She loves him.”

  Kago scoffed. “Not anymore.”

  K’xarr slowed his horse and dropped back with Rufio and the prince. “Have a nice chat with my counterpart?” Rufio asked.

  “Kago is Kago, what can I say.”

  “You could say he is a self-centered obnoxious ass?” Rufio said emotionlessly.

  K’xarr pulled off his helmet and adjusted the padding inside. “I suppose I could.”

  * * *

  The peasants had begun to build cook fires and set about preparing the evening meal. Those who would not join in the battle would await the outcome here, a half-day’s ride from the city. Cromwell didn’t understand why each and every one of the peasants wasn’t armed. This was their country. If they wanted it back from that black-hearted bastard Serban, they should be willing to fight for it. They were a civilized people though, and the Toran still had a hard time understanding some of their timid ways.

  The Trimenian deserters were camped to the south and the Sons had picketed their horses to the north of the peasant army waiting for K’xarr’s return. That was where he was headed. He intended to have a word with his friend.

  Cromwell found Endra stroking the neck of a large gray warhorse as the animal pulled at a lump of grass. The shieldmaiden wore her armor, though her helmet and bastard sword hung from the horse’s saddle. Tomorrow would see her, and the big gray, in the thick of battle.