Unleashing the Shadows (Nine Kingdoms Book 1)

by Ann Bakshis

  He’s still in the library going over the map of Reynes and making notations along its side when I enter. He finally looks up as I stand in front of the desk.

  “Well?” he asks, irritated by the interruption.

  “Elizabeth was taken from Geron and is possibly in one of the neighboring kingdoms,” I answer.

  “Which one?” he growls.

  “Pelheim,” I tell him.

  A devilish smile creases his face. “Perfect,” he says. “We’ll be able to besiege a kingdom and retrieve my medallion both at one time. Let me know when the courier returns.”

  “That won’t be for several days, sir.”

  “I know, which is why I’m going to take this time to compose a series of letters to King Job. What we learn will determine which one he receives.”

  Lycus returns to his project as I take my leave.

  It’s more than a few days before the courier returns with news. I don’t dare open the sealed letter since Lycus’ mood has severely altered in the last day. He tells me he’s bored with what the women in the village have to offer and is desperately in need of new conquests, particularly one that’ll satisfy his ever-growing madness and desires, which is far exceeding Gregor’s.

  “Perhaps that’s also something you can accomplish when we enter Pelheim,” I tell him as he opens the letter.

  “And that had better be soon. I’m going crazy without adequate companionship,” he replies. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t find that perfect rose to keep captive in my chambers and fuck to my heart’s content. I might have to kill a few more people just to satisfy the lust enveloping me.” He laughs before quietly reading the letter, smiling as he hands it to me.

  To my benevolent king—the prince is still slowly making his way around the kingdom, but I cannot tell you where as his guardian has stopped sending updates as to their travels. I can only be certain they are no longer in the village of Nysa. Job is most anxious for his son’s return as his health continues to deteriorate, but Evander isn’t due back for another fortnight. As to the proposition you indicated, I’m sure Job would look most favorably on mending ties with Geron as a way to complete his legacy as king. Suggest you wish to extend an olive branch to him, my young king, and he shall be easy to manipulate with whatever you so desire—Yours truly.

  “What’s your opinion on this?” Lycus asks as I hand the letter back.

  “These spies have been in service to our kingdom for decades. It would be wise to follow their advice,” I reply.

  “You trust them?”

  “With my very soul.”

  He reaches into the top drawer of the desk and removes a wax sealed letter addressed to King Job. “Make sure this gets sent out today,” Lycus says, handing it to me.

  “What does it say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I suppose there’s no harm in letting you know as I’ll need your assistance through this faux peace,” Lycus says, smiling. “Gregor has decided to make a final proclamation on his own deathbed and wishes to amend all grievances with all kingdoms before his passing.”

  “It’s from Gregor?” I ask, slightly taken aback.

  “Of course not, Kerron. Don’t be an idiot. I wrote the letter and simply attached my grandfather’s name to it. No one outside of the kingdom or our network of spies is aware of anything that’s transpired in Geron, and I’d like to maintain that illusion for as long as possible. If Job is serious about wanting to restore relations with us, then when he invites Gregor to the coronation I’ll be going in his place as the royal representative since my grandfather will be too ill to travel.”

  “That’s assuming your letter works.”

  “Do you doubt your king, Kerron?”

  “No, Your Majesty, I don’t. It’s difficult to gauge how others will react to certain news. People can be very unpredictable.”

  “True, but I have the utmost confidence that Job will accept this so-called olive branch and the way to begin anew would be to invite the king, who was once your enemy, to a most momentous celebration. It would show real commitment to initiating peace between the kingdoms and demonstrate to the others that we aren’t as horrid as they portray us to be.”

  I nod, stand, and depart to the Vagter quarters where I employ one of my men to act as royal courier for the king to deliver the letter. He’s instructed to only mention that the King of Geron has sent a message, and then wait for a reply if there is one. Then it becomes another waiting game to see who blinks first.

  My anxiety reaches new limits when the days begin to stretch, and my guard has yet to return. I have to keep telling myself to be patient and to focus on locating Elizabeth once we’re inside Pelheim, but I find myself being drawn back to the woman responsible for killing my men with such ease. Elizabeth had been taught how to handle a longbow, so it would make sense that she’d teach her offspring. I wonder if this young woman is David and Elizabeth’s child, which makes her Lycus’ half-sister and the true heir to the throne. If so, then they’re probably in the village of Nysa.

  How do I handle this without giving away too much information? Perhaps I can manipulate the situation into my favor, and one where Lycus won’t know what I’m truly up to. We don’t have any spies in that village, so I’d be able to slip in and out with ease. Of course, I can’t be wearing my uniform. I’ll wear it when I initially leave Geron, then change before I reach the border wall for Pelheim.

  There’s a knock on the door to my private chamber, so I push my thoughts aside to answer. My officer looks heavily worn but carries with him a response from King Job. He hands it to me, and I dismiss him for the remainder of the day to get some rest. I check the library for Lycus, but when I don’t find him there, I search the rest of the castle finally locating him in his bedchamber with some guests. I wait for them to finish and the young ladies to depart before entering.

  “A reply, Your Majesty,” I say, handing the letter to Lycus as he sits on the edge of the bed with barely enough blanket to cover his flaccid manhood.

  He breaks the seal and carefully reads it, but to himself. A smile creases his face, which tells me it must be good news.

  “King Gregor has been cordially invited to Latrest Castle to help develop a peace treaty,” Lycus says with pride. “He’s expected two days before the coronation, to which he’s also been invited.”

  “Congratulations, Your Grace. Your plan worked beautifully.”

  He stands, which causes the blanket to slip off and he prances about the room naked and not giving a damn about who’s around. Gregor at least had the decency to remain fully covered if I disturbed him during one of his romps with his women. I wish Lycus would exercise the same modesty, but it’s almost like he enjoys demonstrating his prowess to everyone around him.

  “I’d like to send a reply,” Lycus says, reaching for his robe which lies across a footstool at the end of the bed. “But I don’t want it to reach the king too quickly as I need him to believe I’m contemplating the matter.”

  “I can personally deliver the letter for you, Your Majesty, and take some time before-hand to search for Elizabeth while I’m in Pelheim. It should give you the added delay you’re seeking.”

  “Wonderful,” he says. “Meet me in the library in twenty minutes and I’ll give you my response.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” I say, then exit the room, closing the door behind me.

  I head down to my private chambers where I pack a few essentials before running off to the kitchen for a few bites of food to take with me. I secure a dagger to the back of my waistcoat by my belt before taking my bag and placing it just outside the back door. When I reach the library, Lycus is still in his robe and is sealing his letter with the wax impression of a griffin with large wings, giant paws, and sharp claws—the symbol of Geron.

  “Make sure you don’t wait too long to present this to Job since we’re now down to a week before the coronation,” he says, handing me the folded parchment.

  “I w
on’t.”

  I retreat to where I left my bag, strap it to my horse after I reach the stables, and begin my journey. I don’t take my first break until I’m at least an hour outside of the kingdom proper. This is the moment I take to change into more traditional clothes of black pants, a gray shirt, and dark doublet. I continue to trek ahead until the moon is right above, before resting in the prairie grasses . I rise early the next morning and don’t stop for long rests until I reach Nysa that late evening. I rent a room in the inn for one night, secure my horse in the stables across the way, then collapse on the bed from pure exhaustion. In the morning I eat a hearty breakfast before roaming the village in hopes of seeing Elizabeth. I make sure to go armed as I walk, so I hide the dagger in my boot as it’s much too hot to wear the doublet.

  People greet me as I stroll past, even though they don’t know me. Faces light up with smiles as the air fills with laughter from those out enjoying the sunny day. I notice a bakery in the center of the village is in the midst of being repaired. Several men are busy building an outer wall when one of them catches my attention.

  Covered in dirt and looking slightly older is Caster. I move quickly before he spots me and watch as he works tediously with the others on restoring the bakery. He looks worn, but rugged and seems to be in good spirits. I like to pride myself on thinking as cunningly as Caster is known to, so if he’s keeping Elizabeth anywhere it won’t be in the village itself, but in an outlying area far from everyone. It’s exactly what I’d do to protect her. Now that I’ve confirmed I have the right location do I go looking for my sister, or just assume she’s safe… as well as still alive?

  I decide to chance it and make my way down the main road before wandering into the forest that surrounds the area. I walk for hours and feel like I’m getting nowhere, other than going in endless circles. I begin to make my way back to the village when I catch sight of a woman in the distance with long chestnut hair, firing an arrow into a group of pheasants as they run from her. As she’s bagging her trophies, I know instantly that it’s Elizabeth as she’s the spitting image of our mother. I hurriedly glance around to make sure no one can see me and watch as she moves swiftly through the trees towards a cottage down the lane before disappearing inside.

  I’ve seen enough to satisfy myself that my sister is alive, so I return to the village, take my belongings, and head north towards Latrest. When I’m just outside the town, I don my uniform and prepare myself to meet King Job.

  Eight

  Evan

  It’s been ten days since we left Nysa and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Ore. Argus has given up on dealing with me since I won’t listen to him any longer as he complains about my dereliction to my father. I can’t help it. I feel horrible with how I left things with Ore, but there’s no way I can go back.

  Currently we’re sitting at a tavern just outside the village of Dyer listening to the warbling of a band of singers as they entertain the drunken crowd.

  “Care for another pint?” a young tavern wench asks as she bends over with her empty tray in hand and her ample breasts almost spilling from her constricting bodice.

  “Yes, please,” Argus answers, leering at the lady.

  She smiles as she takes our empty glasses and returns to the bar.

  “She has her eye on you,” Argus says.

  “She has her eye on many of the men in here,” I grumble.

  “What about that lovely thing?’ Argus asks, pointing to a wisp of a girl hiding in the corner as men ogle her.

  “Why do you keep doing this?” I gripe. “You’ve been trying to sway me to be with other women since we left Nysa. I wish you would stop.”

  “Ore can’t be the only woman you’ve ever been with,” Argus retorts.

  “She’s not.”

  “Yeah, right,” he chuckles as the wench brings our drinks, then winks at me as she leaves.

  “Besides, I’m not that type of man,” I add.

  “It’s one of the privileges you get with being in power. Also, you won’t be seeing Ore again, so what’s the harm in having a little fun? And even if you do see her, she doesn’t need to know about what you’ve done while separated from her.”

  “My father never indulged, so why should I?”

  “Are you certain about that?” Argus asks before taking a swig.

  “Yes,” I say, lying.

  I’m not certain about any possible indiscretions that my father may have indulged, but regardless, I refuse to fall into that trap. I’ve found the woman I want and no matter how many others Argus parades in front of me, that’ll never change.

  “Besides, we didn’t come on this trip for me to get laid at every stop,” I counter, playing with my pint but not drinking from it. “I regret telling you what happened between Ore and me in the hunting lodge during the storm.”

  “I’m not,” he says, laughing. “I wish you had more stories like that to tell. My life is lonely enough that I have to hear about someone else’s conquests when I don’t have my own.”

  “Then by all means, Argus, go fetch the barmaid,” I say, gesturing to the woman as she flirts with a man a few tables over. “Have a night of sex with her and leave me out of it.”

  “Perhaps I will,” he says, grinning as he gets up from the table.

  He moves past the barmaid and approaches the small thing in the corner. She smiles at his attention, then takes his hand as they proceed my way. I’m surprised he’s going for someone so young, that is until he stops in front of me with the girl.

  “My friend here could use some company,” Argus says, placing the young woman’s hand into mine as he forces it open. “We’ve been on a long journey and are in need of refreshment.”

  “Of course, sir,” the young lady says in a soft voice that’s barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to help ease your tired muscles.”

  “Good,” Argus says. “I’ll meet up with you later.” He winks and then heads over to our tavern wench and begins talking her up. The two leave after only a few minutes of discussion.

  “Have a seat,” I say to the young woman, gesturing towards Argus’ vacant chair.

  She hesitantly sits and I can sense her nervousness.

  “How long are you in town for?” she asks.

  “We leave tomorrow morning,” I reply, finally drinking some of my ale.

  “When do you want to start?” she asks, her nervousness fading as she loosens the tie for her blouse, allowing it to fall slightly to reveal her plump breasts.

  I chug the rest of my drink, take her hand, and we leave the tavern. I know I’m going to regret this, but maybe Argus is correct that I need to feel what it’s like to be with more than one woman before settling. We go down the lane until we reach the village of Dyer, then enter the inn situated in the middle of a row of shops. My room is on the first floor towards the back, so once we’re inside, I lock the door to make sure we’re not disturbed. I pull her over to the bed with me as I sit down but leave her standing before me. She delicately removes her clothes, allowing them to fall gracefully to the floor.

  Her skin is tanner than I expected, and firm. I put my hands on her back and pull her closer, my lips grazing her stomach as she runs her fingers through my hair. She moans as my hands find her soft spots. She arches her back as I pull her down on top of me. Our mouths meet and her hands wander down my trousers. She grabs me and I quake from the touch. I find my pants slipping around my ankles as the woman begins to lower herself onto me, but I suddenly stop her by seizing her wrists and pushing her off.

  “I can’t,” I utter, flushing with embarrassment.

  “Is it my body you don’t like?” she asks seductively as she moves to stand in front of me, takes my hands, and places them on her breasts.

  “No,” I say, pulling away. “This just isn’t me, I’m sorry.” I stand, grab my trousers, and search the pockets for some money. “Here, take this for the inconvenience and be on your way.”

  She snatches the money, quickly d
resses, and storms out of the room. I’m sure she’s never been turned down before, but that’s not my problem. It’s not like I haven’t been offered women before, I have, and I’ve even slept with a few of them, though I’m sure Argus believes otherwise. It was different with Ore and I want that type of feeling again, and for the moment I can only imagine it with her.

  I get ready for bed, blow out the candles, and get under the covers. I’m almost asleep when Argus stumbles in, then quiets himself when he thinks I have company.

  “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’ll come back when you’re done.”

  “I’m alone, Argus,” I say.

  “What? Why? Was she not what you expected? Because I can always find you someone else while the night is still young.”

  “Just get in the room and go to bed,” I grumble.

  “Don’t you want to hear about my evening?” he asks as he closes the door and I hear the bedsprings cry under his weight.

  “Not particularly,” I reply.

  “Well you’re no fun.”

  “And at the moment you’re not acting like the head of the Pelheim Vagter,” I gripe. “If Father could see you now.”

  “Well he’s not here and I rarely get to have a night like tonight, so let me relish it before you steal it away from me.”

  I groan out of frustration and weariness.

  “I never heard a woman beg so much before in my life,” he says. “She was happily surprised when she realized what kind of assets a dwarf giant carries. I had her every way possible, and even tried to come up with some new positions. The poor girl was utterly exhausted by the time I left, but she had the biggest smile on her face.”