Demons and Kings (Hartland Book 2)

by J. B. Jenn

  Relyck studied him with narrowed eyes. “Very well.” He rose and started to walk away, but hesitated. “Arem, don’t make a fool out of us for trusting you. We all want to return home and see our families. You already took that privilege away for three men. They’re dead because of you. I hope you know the risk we’re taking by allowing you to stay.”

  Arem nodded. He swallowed. He had to break his word to these men. He had to know.

  Mercea

  She woke with a start. There were sounds of people whispering around her. Their voices bounced off of the stone. She sat there for a few moments with her knees pulled to her chest. Staring out past the bars, she was relieved Ogden wasn’t here, listening to the ramblings of crazed people. The man had a good heart and wanted what was best for Hartland. He was a much younger version of what she used to be.

  She took in a deep breath. Even if the woman was powerful and able to overcome a Servant’s natural resistance to magic, she would make mistakes. Her power couldn’t save her from everything.

  At least, Mercea knew she was in the dungeon in Dawn Stone. She had been down there a few times before, but never as a prisoner. Sighing, she forced herself to remember what had happened. She had never seen another wytch have the power De’Nae did. The woman was more of a threat than she had realized. What had King Barend and Queen De’Nae done? What had they sacrificed to gain such things?

  Mercea wished the Gods would communicate with her. They used to. Now, it seemed as if They were slowly releasing her from Their service. She wished she knew why. She wished she knew what De’Nae meant by telling her that her destiny was already locked in place. Something told her, she would find out soon enough.

  The hissing whispers in the distance grew louder and louder. She neared the bars and waited. Mercea sucked in a sharp breath as they rounded the corner. There were four Tharroh coming toward her.

  “She’s awake,” one of them hissed.

  “Yes,” Mercea answered from where she stood at the bars. Her hands were folded behind her back. Her outward appearance was calm, despite her hatred of their kind. “I suggest one of you release me. You’re interfering with the work of a Servant. Punishment can only be death if you do not obey.”

  They laughed. When the four of them met her gaze again, more seriously this time, she met them with calmness. Anger would not serve her here.

  “We have no place in your world,” one of them said. “The Gods will only have us killed again. This is the only way we can survive. We will not be butchered again.” Mercea stared at him, taking in his horns running all along the outside edges of his arms. The man leaned close. “We’re not afraid of you. You cannot break out of here. Queen De’Nae made certain of it. She knows what you’re capable of and how to stop you.”

  Mercea reached through the bars and grabbed the front of his thick shirt. She pulled with all her strength and watched in satisfaction as his mostly human face crashed against the bars, breaking his nose. She released him before the other Tharroh could touch her. Blood streamed over his lips.

  “Care to change your answer?” she asked.

  As she stared at them, daring them to step closer, she hoped she hid her fear they were right. She hoped Ogden could do this on his own if she couldn’t find a way to escape. She prayed he wasn’t too young. He was inexperienced at being a Servant, but she had to remind herself They chose him for a reason. They believed he was her equal. Now, all he had to do was prove it.

  “Listen to me carefully, creatures, I will find a way out of this. I am certain she’s made a mistake somewhere.”

  She watched the four. They shifted uneasily. It seemed they weren’t entirely certain about De’Nae’s power either, meaning the woman had weaknesses. All she had to do was discover what they were.

  The woman among them, who resembled a demon more closely than the others, snorted. She had a thick ridge where her eyebrows had sat and horns shooting out from the sides of her neck. Her eyes narrowed and a purple fire sprang to her fingertips. The fire hit Mercea, but it didn’t burn like fire did. Instead, it burned with an extreme cold. Mercea clutched her shoulder where it had hit her, feeling the numbing effect move all the way down her arm. It shouldn’t have affected her this way.

  “The next time you speak it will be worse. You might have resistance to our magic, but De’Nae took care of most of that already. You’d do well to remember it,” the woman growled.

  They left her. As Mercea slid down the far stone wall, she knew she was in more trouble than she had realized. Her entire left arm was numb.

  As she thought about everything which had led her here, she felt her confidence fail for a moment.

  “I hope you’re up to this, Ogden,” she whispered.

  Barend

  Barend sat down. He could feel the changes his body was making. It felt wrong. To make things worse, he had no idea what was happening to him. It had started when he first spoke with Verite after telling him they had failed to capture Mercea the first time. The monster was doing something to him.

  Barend closed his eyes. This was De’Nae’s fault. If not for her, none of this would be happening. His people wouldn’t be demons. Now, since Carthoda needed more, they were branching into the Desert and Yul. Everything had gone so wrong, but there was no turning back. They could only move forward from here.

  “You don’t look well,” he heard his wife say. Barend opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her perfect body. It wasn’t fair. He was aging. Dying. She stroked his cheek as she knelt in front of him. “Don’t worry. It will stop. I have good news, love.”

  Her voice annoyed him. It was too sweet, too caring. He knew better. He knew what rested in her heart.

  “If it isn’t how to reverse what has happened to me, I don’t want to hear it. I am tired of listening to your lies. Something is happening to me because of you and I have no idea what.”

  De’Nae met his eyes without humor. “We’ve captured her.”

  Barend looked to his wife, blinking. He hadn’t thought it possible to capture the woman. He had hoped they could, but he had never imagined they would. A slow smile twitched its way to his lips. Maybe he could use the woman to barter his life back.

  “I see you’re pleased with this information,” De’Nae purred. Barend didn’t answer her. His thoughts were far from his wife. She lowered her head and placed it in his lap. Her fingers glided up and down his leg. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry this has affected you the way it has. If I can find a way to change things, I will. I swear it.”

  Barend moved her aside and rose slowly, not believing her empty promise. He moved to the door and turned back when De’Nae cleared her throat. When he looked to her again, he thought he might have seen concern in her eyes, but wasn’t certain.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

  “I need to see her. I must speak with her.”

  “I’ll come with you.” She rose swiftly.

  Barend snarled. “I believe I’m perfectly capable of talking to a woman on my own who’s behind bars. I assume you placed her in the cell designed for her?”

  De’Nae’s angry look answered him. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall, finally feeling eager about something.

  The few remaining humans in the palace avoided him. They passed each other concerned looks behind his back. Barend felt as if they all stared at him, judging him as one of those monsters. He shook his head, regretting everything.

  When they had first made their deals, he didn’t think he would regret any of it. Now, he knew he wasn’t as heartless as he had thought he was. His wife, on the other hand, was a coldhearted bitch. He bet she didn’t feel any remorse about what they had done to their people, or to their kingdom. Oh, she was good at pretending. He’d give her that.

  The dungeon was cold. He walked down the line of cells. Many of them held five humans each who were waiting for the transformation. Several of them y
elled profanities at him. They slid off of him. He had heard worse. He had called himself worse over the last few weeks.

  When he came to the last cell, further from the others, he stared into it, able to just make her out by torchlight. She was beautiful and heavily touched by the Old Gods. Her golden hair, streaked with black, and eyes spoke of it.

  “What could an old man possibly want with me?” she asked in an acidic tone.

  “I want you. I think you can reverse whatever is happening to me by giving him you.” Barend studied the woman for a moment.

  “Barend?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “I imagined you differently.”

  “I WAS different! I’ll go back to being the same man I was once he takes you. Your life is worth more than mine. All he’s doing is killing me.”

  She was at the bars. He took several steps back. “How does it feel to have failed before you ever really began?”

  Barend snarled at her, knowing better than to step too close. “What I have in store for you, my dear, is far worse than what I want to do to you. I think, knowing that, it’ll be torturous for you as you wait down here. You’ll only be a shred of yourself once he’s finished with you, and then all of this will be for something.”

  He left her standing there, staring after him with those cold, angry eyes.

  Maik

  He had sat in the library for days now, pouring over books, hoping they could tell him what he had seen in Heltarn. It seemed a few of his books were missing. He had always taken pride in the fact the Desert had a vast library, where all the shelves were overfilled. So, to find holes in his shelves, concerned him. Who would take them? For what purpose? What information did they contain?

  “What are you looking for?” Isol asked.

  The sound of his cousin’s voice made Maik jump. “Answers I can’t seem to find,” he answered grimly, staring gloomily at the bookshelf. Isol sat down across from him, looking toward him for more of an answer. “There are books missing,” Maik said in an offhand manner, despite the nagging feeling telling him the answers he searched for were in one of those books.

  Isol glanced at the bookshelf. “I think Trester may have taken them,” he answered. “Before the man left, he was spending a lot of time in here in the old section.”

  Maik met his cousin’s eyes with interest. “You wouldn’t happen to know why he would take books about demons, would you?”

  Isol shook his head. “No. I didn’t think to ask. I never thought he’d take them. He said he was doing research.” Isol sighed. “This war has made everyone crazy, including you, Maik. You need to rest.”

  Maik didn’t answer. His sea green eyes came to rest on the bookshelves again. He wondered why Trester needed those books. What had he learned which had made him take them with him? There was something going on he should have been informed about. It troubled him. This was something he wasn’t likely going to figure out on his own. Demons? Wytches? He didn’t see a connection. It might not be what he was searching for either. It could be a simple answer too. Maybe Trester had taken the books to learn more about the enemy.

  Isol stared at him. Maik could see the worry in his cousin’s eyes. He didn’t blame him. He knew after the battle in Heltarn, he hadn’t been the same. He didn’t understand how there could be humans with demon features. All they had seen were demons. The thought of there being humans with the strength and conniving nature of a demon, frightened him to his very soul.

  Hartland was in a world of trouble and he had no idea how to save it. Already, they were struggling to protect their border. More and more demons were pouring in as he sat there, worrying over books. Those demons were attacking his people and he couldn’t protect them.

  Maik slammed his fist down on the table, hating feeling helpless. If they hadn’t taken such heavy losses, they might stand a better chance. As it was, they were struggling and people were dying. The only blessing that came of it was how it made him forget how much his heart longed for Janessa.

  He hung his head low, wishing he could find answers. None of this made sense. It was difficult for him to understand how a king could forsake his people like that. How could one willingly sacrifice their lives and for what purpose? It was clear he’d never understand King Barend. He could only view the man as a monster.

  “Maik,” Isol said, “I think it’s time you rest. Let me take care of day to day matters for a few days. These answers you’re searching for,” he gave an offhand wave toward the bookshelves, “won’t come to you, unless you’re rested. You can’t think clearly. You’re exhausted.”

  “I…” He hesitated. He knew if he slowed down, he would think more about Janessa and how Queen De’Nae had killed her. He didn’t want to think about it. “I can’t. I must do this.”

  “Why?”

  Maik turned away, planning to leave his cousin sitting there. His shoulders dropped in defeat and he stopped.

  “I don’t want to think about her. It hurts too much.” Tears streamed down his face. “You have no idea how much I loved her. She was torn away from me by the very people I’m trying to stop. Can’t you see how important this is? I can’t stop for her sake or for mine.”

  “Maik, you can’t keep doing this. You won’t be of any use to these people when the time comes for you to stand against King Barend. Please, for their sake, at least try to rest. Answers will come in their due time. You’ll find them easier with a rested mind, one which has properly grieved.”

  Maik looked to his cousin. “I feel so helpless. I feel as if I should be at the border, or at King Barend’s steps, demanding justice for everything he’s done. Instead, I sit here behind my palace walls. What kind of king am I? What kind of person am I? My people are dying! I faltered because of my grief. If I slow down, I might falter again.”

  Isol sat where he was, saying nothing for several moments. “You’re a good person, Maik. A better person than me. If I was in your place, I would have sent someone like me away. I’ve made it no secret I’ve wanted the throne. Yet, you keep me here and hear my advice, despite knowing my intentions.” Maik looked toward him, surprised. “It’s noble of you to want to fight with your men to save the people of the Desert. You’ll be more help here. These people need a leader. That’s what you are. You’re the person who makes the hard choices, the choices that save some people and kill others. You’re the one who is going to save the Desert by making the people fight the battles you cannot. It isn’t me or anyone else. You’re the only one who can do it. During war, people learn bitter truths about themselves. My bitter truth is I was never meant for the throne. I was never meant to rule.”

  Maik studied his cousin, hardly believing what he was hearing. He wouldn’t have believed it if not for the somber look in Isol’s eyes. His cousin had meant every word. Maik sighed, feeling tired. He needed sleep. He needed a sound mind to prepare for whatever was to come their way.

  “Thank you,” Maik said softly. “I’m handing the kingdom over to you for a few days. You’re right. I need to take some time.”

  Ogden

  The army stood ready before him. King Sabin stood to his left. As Ogden stared out across the soldiers, he kept wondering how he was supposed to lead these men. The most he had ever led was fifteen, not hundreds.

  As he stood there, hoping he appeared calm, he wished he could tell Hethera he’d gotten himself into a situation he wasn’t going to be able to get out of. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t coming home for a while or he might never make it home. More so than anything else, it bothered him she might already know. He’d give anything to talk to her again; to wrap his arms around her. To see Acen smile up at him.

  “Say something,” King Sabin urged.

  Ogden glanced back at the old man. The queen stood beside him, glaring at him. She refused to believe there was nothing he could do for her problem. If there was something he could do, he would. He could see the pain in her eyes that she couldn’t have her husband’s child. He gave her a sad smile before turning to addre
ss the soldiers.

  “I would like to tell you, you’ll all live and everything will be fine. I can’t and won’t do that. I won’t lie to men who could pay the ultimate sacrifice in protecting Hartland from a madman. I will, however, tell you of how important it is we all fight.

  “We need everyone fighting this unnatural army. Having already fought demons as an ordinary man, I’ll tell you, it’s scarier than anything I’ve ever done. But as you’re fighting, a sense of knowing what you’re doing is the right thing to do, knowing you’re protecting the ones you love back home, washes over you and makes it easier for you to fight and makes it harder for them to kill you. It’s the only thing we have over them. Determination and love.”

  Ogden licked his lips. “Knowing what I now know, I know there are things in this world I don’t understand. There are things I don’t want to understand, but must. There are things I know for a certainty. I know it’s a man’s responsibility to protect their home and to protect their loved ones. We have to use our strength for something. Although women are amazing creatures, able to do everything a man can do, trust me, my wife has proven this to me countless of times,” he paused as a few people laughed, “it doesn’t give us the right to shirk our responsibilities to them. This is your chance. Don’t think about the overwhelming possibilities in front of us. Think about your loved ones. Remember you’re marching off to war to protect them. You want to keep what has happened in Carthoda from happening to them.”

  The soldiers roared in response, surprising him. King Sabin clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You did well, boy. Hopefully, you can keep up the momentum.”

  Ogden nodded, feeling sick at what he was asking these people to do. As he stared out across the hundreds of men who had gathered, he had the same uneasy feeling something was wrong.

  “Let’s march!”

  He watched them, feeling this had been too easy. Ogden met King Sabin’s eyes, giving him a nod before following the soldiers. There was no turning back.