Demons and Kings (Hartland Book 2)

by J. B. Jenn

  The room fell into silence again. Her gaze grew distance as she thought back to her own family. Tears started to well in her eyes before Ogden’s voice brought her back.

  “It won’t be like that,” Ogden said with certainty. She gave him a small smile. She had been like him once, a long time ago. “It’ll only become like that if you allow it to. If you stay throughout their lives, they’ll know who you are. I might have to go away from time to time, but I won’t let any of my family forget who I am.”

  “Sometimes you don’t have a choice.”

  Mercea stared at him. As the centuries had passed, it had become more and more difficult to be part of their lives. Whereas a Servant was still considered human, they weren’t like the others. They were different. The Gods had blessed them with Their power. It started to change them and the way they thought. Mercea even looked different now. Her hair was almost completely golden as were her eyes. She used to have long, black hair and green eyes. There were only traces of that left in her. Ogden would start to change, too. Not right away. In about a century, he would start to notice the differences. Others would see him as a Servant long before he did.

  “I hope it’ll be easier for you than it was for me. Don’t fail like I did,” Mercea said.

  Her gaze drifted outside where she could hear soldiers working. The dead soldiers strewn across the sand was something she had thought about a lot over the last few days. Their deaths were a failure on her part. Ogden’s Servanthood was her failure, too. It should have never happened. She didn’t feel like the Servant she used to be. Something was different.

  More silence passed between the two. Mercea wondered if they would ever be able to talk to one another. They would have to learn to if they were to defeat King Barend and his demons together. After all, the Gods had the intention of making them work together.

  In a way, They had answered her prayers for more help. A new Servant wasn’t what she had in mind, but it was all she had. Why hadn’t They spoken to her? Why hadn’t They summoned more Servants to deal with this catastrophe? She felt her time as a Servant was coming to an end. It was a feeling she couldn’t explain, but the feeling was there just the same.

  Mercea pushed the thought from her mind. She had to think about the demon army and how Barend had formed it. Nothing else. Since she had left Carthoda to its own fate, it hadn’t sat well with her. Leaving an entire kingdom to fend for itself was a disaster. There were many things she wished she could have done.

  If she had listened to Arem sooner, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe she could have gotten to King Barend and ended this. Mercea shook her head. There was nothing she could do about it now, except for deal with what was in front of her.

  “What’s our plan?” Ogden asked, breaking the silence between them again.

  “Build an army, kill demons, kill Barend, and kill De’Nae. We can’t leave them alive, not after they’ve taken so many lives.” Ogden shook his head, laughing. She scowled. “What?”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It won’t be.” Mercea rose. “Plans are easy. The execution of plans is difficult.” She studied him for a moment. “We should speak with King Maik. We’re going to have to go to Golden Valley and Horizon to seek aid from them. I know he plans on sending emissaries their way, asking for help. He won’t have to. Besides, I’m uncertain they could get through to them the way we can. With the presence of a Servant, I hope the kings will feel obligated to join. I just hope King Barend doesn’t attack before then. I am hoping time is on our side.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “The two kings there don’t believe we exist. They think the Gods were from a barbaric past and They never existed. They believe the Gods are stories told from generation to generation. The new God enlightened them. We’ll have to show up in person and prove them wrong.”

  Ogden was silent. She wondered if he was thinking about his family. She could tell he longed to go home. Poor fool. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

  All those centuries ago, she hadn’t either.

  Zavad

  He stood at the window of their bedroom with his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist. From there, he watched men from all around Yul train to fight a frightening enemy none of them had yet seen. Except two men; Lord Osrin and Casman.

  Yul wasn’t what it used to be. They were passive people, delving into knowledge, attempting to make lives better. Now, they were training to fight. Zavad didn’t understand where his kingdom had gone.

  This was nothing he had ever imagined happening to his beloved kingdom. No one in Yul had ever imagined any of this happening. They knew war would come to Hartland again. Despite knowing, they had never thought they’d become involved in it. They always held back, never taking any sides. They’d done so for centuries now.

  “We can always send Lord Osrin away,” Balla whispered in answer to his sigh.

  He glanced at her. She didn’t like this any better than he did. For the last several nights, they had discussed the changes taking place. Zavad still wasn’t certain if he had made the correct choice by accepting Lord Osrin’s help.

  “No,” he whispered. “Casman saw the horror within Carthoda. I might not trust Lord Osrin, but I do trust Casman. You could see the horror of what he saw in his eyes. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. Nor do I want what happened to the woman happen to anyone else. It’s a pity she took her own life.” Zavad held a moment of silence for the tormented woman. She had watched her entire village turned to demons and had survived. Her survival had come with a heavy price. He could only imagine the nightmares she’d had to lead to her own death. “Ogden gave his life to give our kingdom a chance. I won’t dishonor what any of them have sacrificed for us.”

  Balla placed her hand on his arm. “I understand. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes focused on the men below them. “It’s unfortunate it has come to this. It seems as if it has all happened so suddenly. Peace, and now, war.”

  Zavad didn’t answer. Instead, he observed Casman who was showing a soldier some sword techniques. Osrin watched him, unimpressed. As Zavad watched, he wondered where Casman had learned to handle a sword like that.

  He knew both Casman and Ogden had sought out training on their own, but from who? He kept wondering why they had found it necessary to learn such things. He hadn’t viewed it as a necessary teaching for the people. If he had, Yul wouldn’t be so vulnerable. If he had listened to them, these men would already know how to fight. He felt like such a fool.

  “Do you think Hartland will ever find peace?” Balla asked. “It seems there’s so much about our world we don’t understand. Why are there wytches? Why are there certain people who can glimpse the future? How do they come about their power? What else do we not know? Yul prides itself on the knowledge it has, and yet, it seems we know little in the grand scheme of things. That, my dear husband, bothers me more than anything else. We should have seen this coming. We should have known demons existed. Why was the information lost to us?”

  “Yes, we should have known.” Zavad said nothing further for several moments. His gaze was still on the soldiers in the courtyard. “I keep getting this feeling we weren’t supposed to know. Maybe the information was buried away on purpose.”

  “Why? Who would do such things? It makes no sense. How can we learn from our past if we don’t know it?”

  Zavad pulled his wife in closer and rested his head on top of hers. They were silent as they stared at the soldiers fighting. Most of them were just young men who had believed in Casman. He knew this was a necessary evil, but he wondered how many of them were going to die.

  “Come, my husband, we have much research to do if we’re going to understand any of this.”

  Barend

  De’Nae was sleeping beside him. Her breathing was quiet. He had grown accustomed to her absence. Now that she was back, he wasn’t certain he wanted her company. She was different. He was differen
t. She was also the one who had caused this mess, and he resented her for it. What was happening to him was her fault.

  He sat in the chair beside the bed considering his options. There was a dagger at his hip he had contemplated on using a few times already. It would be so easy to stab her through the heart and end this. Barend shook his head. This wasn’t like him. At one time he had loved his wife.

  He glanced over at the glass ball. It was glowing an angry orange. It was him wanting to speak. The man he was before his wife had found that thing would have never considered killing her. He still hadn’t had the courage to tell Verite, Urian had failed. No doubt the demon already knew. Verite seemed to know everything he already told him. Communicating with him seemed pointless.

  De’Nae stirred. Her gray eyes fluttered open. A slow smile worked its way to her red lips. Her long black hair was swept behind her and her tanned skin was smooth. She was a beautiful woman. Barend wondered if her beauty was the reason he had fallen in love with her. They had so little in common. She was a woman who wanted more power. He was a man who wanted unity. It seemed they were using each other to gain what they wanted. What if it was their only commonality?

  For a moment, Barend forgot himself. He sat there staring at her nude body, wanting her. He shook himself free of the desire. It was what she wanted. She did have powers of foresight. She might have dreamed of him killing her. She might know what was in his heart.

  Barend stood, glanced at her, and walked over to the glass ball. It was time to stop stalling. They had to move onto the next part of their plan. His fingertips grazed the ball before he felt Verite’s presence within his mind. He fell to his knees from the anger rampaging against his mind. The assault went on for a while longer.

  “Please.” He couldn’t voice it just within his mind. “Please,” he begged again. “I… I can’t think.”

  It stopped.

  You have a lot to answer for.

  I know. I’m sorry. I hate failure as much as you do.

  Doubtful.

  Silence passed. Barend wanted to pull away from the globe, but couldn’t. Verite was growing stronger and stronger. It was part of the reason he hadn’t wanted to make contact. Soon enough, Verite would be able to kill him through the glass ball.

  Make sure nothing else happens. I need more demons for my army. See to it that it’s done.

  Barend screamed as Verite broke contact. Blood gushed from his nose. De’Nae was beside him, using the sheet from the bed to stop the blood flow. He pushed her aside.

  “I’m fine. Leave me.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “I said I’m fine!”

  He rose long enough to make it back to the chair he’d sat in while watching his wife sleep. For several moments, he sat there, holding a hand to his head as blood ran down his face. He felt so weak. De’Nae remained where she was, staring at him, irritating him. When he looked to her, he swore he didn’t see any concern on her face. Instead, he only saw inquiry. He snarled at her.

  “We must continue with our plans. You need to go speak with King Flynn. King Sabin is already on our side.”

  Her thin brow shot up. “Are you certain about that? What if Mercea persuades him otherwise? When I spoke with him last, he was still uncertain whether he wanted to see this happen. At least, the way we’re going about it. He wants a united Hartland, but his concern is with the demons. He is uncertain we can control them.”

  Barend growled at her. “Go! I haven’t the energy to argue with you. Go and do what you’re supposed to do.”

  She walked into the bathroom and wetted two cloths. When she brought them out, she studied him for a moment before placing one on his forehead. With gentle hands, she eased back his head, and used the other to wipe away the blood.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Barend closed his eyes. “I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’ll fix it.”

  “We couldn’t have realized our dreams without that creature. You have more power and I will have Hartland. If I live,” Barend muttered. “There will be no more wars between kingdoms. One person will govern it. No more people have to die over petty wars.” Her uncertainty made him scowl. “What?” he demanded.

  “I…” She lowered her eyes for a moment. “Haven’t a lot of people already died? Haven’t we killed thousands for our army? When will the death stop? I never wanted so much, nor did you. The deaths were never part of the plan. We never thought they’d need people as hosts.”

  “Why are you questioning our methods? Is it because you already gained what you desired and no longer have use for anything else? Even me?”

  “No,” De’Nae denied. “How could you even think that? I am just concerned with the bloodshed. How can you not be? The Barend I knew would be. I know our goal is what Hartland needs. I just don’t like all the deaths.”

  Barend ground his teeth so hard the vein in his head pulsed. “Just leave. I’m in no mood to have this discussion. You don’t care. Stop pretending. You have what you want.”

  She met his eyes. “You know I’ll do whatever is necessary to see this through.”

  She disappeared before he could say anything else. She left him sitting in the chair alone with his painful thoughts. Barend shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, De’Nae.”

  Trester

  He wished he could speak to his sister. He wished he could make amends with her. His banishment hadn’t been her fault, but he had seemed content on blaming her when they had spoken. He had ruined his chance to make peace with at least one member of his family. He had acted with bitterness toward her.

  He remembered seeing her broken body in the courtyard, unmoving, white with death. Now, he stood in front of a pyre where her body waited to burn. Galtrand stood next to him. Since they had discovered her dead, the man hadn’t spoken. He went about his tasks in silence, as if he was far from his body; as if he lived in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.

  One of the servants came out with a torch. Trester took the torch from him. He stared at his sister for a moment before placing the flame to the oil surrounding her small body. She disappeared within the flames as he stepped back.

  Behind him, Maik let off a quiet sob.

  As Trester watched her burn, he wondered what she would have done. Would she have returned to Cascade to help others like he wanted to? Would she have remained behind? Maik thought she would have stayed to take on the larger problem presenting itself to Hartland. Trester wasn’t certain about the reasoning behind such a decision. Trester knew Janessa had loved King Maik and had planned to marry him. She had confessed as much to him. She had tried so hard to bond with him over something, and he had fought her every step of the way.

  Even as he had made the decision to return, he wasn’t certain leaving was the right choice. Part of him knew he should stay. The thought of returning to Cascade sickened him. He knew what King Barend was doing and he knew what was in store for the rest of Hartland. He had witnessed people forced to become demons. How could he turn a blind eye to it just because Cascade had suffered great losses? They were a kingdom who fought. He had to honor that. Still, returning could have its advantages.

  His eyes landed on Galtrand. He wondered if he should send the man back instead. Trester wanted to make a certain decision. The people knew who Galtrand was and respected him. They didn’t know him, their king. They thought he was either dead or a coldblooded murderer. Trester took in a deep breath. He could decide on everything later. Right now, he wanted to say goodbye to his sister.

  “Is there anything you’d like to say?” the priest asked.

  Trester looked upon his sister’s body, mostly ash now. He shook his head. “No. I didn’t know her well.”

  Anger captured his brilliant blue eyes. His sister had been so young. There was one thing for certain. When he had the chance, he’d run De’Nae through, ensuring she’d die a slow, painful death. It was the least she deserved after everything she had done.

  “I would like
to say something,” Galtrand whispered.

  Galtrand came to stand in front of the pyre and faced everyone who had gathered. For a moment, he said nothing. He stared at those who had gathered.

  “Queen Janessa was a good woman, much like her father, King Delane Stone. Had she lived to rebuild Cascade, she would have only made it stronger. She was a woman who believed she could do anything in a man’s world, even her father couldn’t change her. He didn’t have to. She proved herself time and time again. Had she survived, she would have fought for every last one of you.” His voice faltered. Tears slid down his gaunt cheeks. The flames flickered behind him. “It’s no secret I loved her. I know many of you loved her as well, though probably not in the same way. She was a woman Cascade needed. Hartland is a lesser place without her in it.”

  Trester lowered his head. He knew he couldn’t return to Kenokel with her ashes. He looked to Galtrand. He would have the man do it for him. For now, his place was here fighting for the people of Hartland, even if they thought poorly of him. At the moment, Cascade was the small picture. Without a Hartland, there could never be a Cascade.

  Again, his thoughts turned to De’Nae. Part of him still couldn’t believe he’d been such a fool not see who Rosha was. He had known there was something odd about her, had even felt her magic, but had never investigated it. Because of his carelessness, his sister was dead, and the woman had almost killed him, too. He clenched his fists at his side. The woman would pay. Janessa was the person everyone in Cascade looked to. Not him. He was King Delane’s outcast son and by horrific circumstance had come to inherit the kingdom.

  Watching the last of the fire flicker in the soft breeze, it was apparent there was no place in the world for him. He would always be looking for acceptance. Trester wondered if he would ever find any. No one viewed wytches as a good thing. People feared them, and thus, used them in battle. And now, Hartland had a wytch for one of their kings. It was unheard of. Trester still wasn’t certain how he felt about being King of Cascade. Never had he dreamed this as a possibility.