Book 3
A New Dawn
Kingdoms of Islandia Trilogy
By J.J. Johnson
A New Dawn© 2021 by Jacob Johnson. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
Published by Author Academy Elite
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All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written permission from the author.
Identifiers:
LCCN: 2021915994
ISBN: 978-1-64746-876-7 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-64746-877-4 (hardback)
ISBN: 978-1-64746-878-1 (ebook)
Available in paperback, hardback, e-book, and audiobook
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Book design by Dragonpen Designs.
Cover design by: Kimmo Hellström.
Illustrations by: Steven Bell
This book is dedicated in loving memory to Danette Tropansky.
Without your love and support Danette, this book would not be possible. I cherish the day we can see each other face to face once again.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Prelude
Chapter 1: Titus
Chapter 2: Geralt
Chapter 3: Lancelin
Chapter 4: Imari
Chapter 5: Lydia
Chapter 6: Titus
Chapter 7: Imari
Chapter 8: Lydia
Chapter 9: Titus
Chapter 10: Geralt
Chapter 11: Lancelin
Chapter 12: Imari
Chapter 13: Lydia
Chapter 14: Imari
Chapter 15: Part 1
Chapter 15: Part 2
Epilogue
Illustrations
Appendix
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my loving wife and daughter for allowing me the countless hours to make this dream become reality. I also want to bring special attention to every person who helped give feedback and critique. Sheena Monnin, thank you for putting in the effort to help craft this book into what it is today. Your editing services were a huge help in making this story great! Thank you to my friends and family for your amazing support. Without your belief in me and this story no one would be reading it today. Last, but certainly not least I want to give glory to the Name above all names. He is the true morning star and the dawn bringer of our story. His name is King Jesus. He deserves all the honor, glory, and praise.
Prelude
The sound of bell towers filled the air. The smells of the coming autumn brought with them a familiarity that countered the tragedy that had befallen the once proud city of Kingshelm. Too many tears had been shed in the ancient city. Today, however…today was a wondrous day. The woman embraced the refreshing breeze, face upturned toward the sun. Just above her stood the pristine white towers of Kingshelm’s palace. They stood proudly, slowly being restored to their former glory.
“Are you ready?” Geralt asked her. The grizzled warrior stood freshly shaved with his hair pulled back from his face. His usual leather-laced armor was replaced by formal attire. Despite the soft fabric, there was no denying his strength or readiness to fight. The man’s gloomy demeanor of late softened into satisfaction as he looked at her. She was radiant.
“I am,” Lydia said with barely restrained glee.
Without a word, Geralt moved to open the wooden door before them. Light beamed in, washing away all thoughts of war and conflict. As she blinked to adjust her eyes to the light, a host of guests stood to welcome her arrival. Each wore a grin that stretched from ear to ear as they marveled at her. Lydia’s auburn curls had been made into a beautiful plait of braids and loose strands that flowed gently onto her shoulders. The elegant dress she wore was a masterpiece of embroidery. Small flowers weaved into the smooth cream colored fabric. The guests waited in a beautiful palace garden filled with a kaleidoscope of color. Any visitor to this place would have been lost in awe of its magnificence. Each color and scent was intoxicating to the senses, leaving most visitors uncertain where to look. But Lydia’s eyes were fixed on one - her one.
He stood tall, waiting on a platform just ahead. His face morphed into overwhelming emotion upon seeing her. Joy radiated from him as he awaited his bride. Slowly, she stepped forward down the path marked by white cloth. Onlookers whispered their congratulations with exuberant smiles and tender nods. She drank in the scene and saw it all in slow motion, tucking it deep into her memory.
The faces of the people she had known throughout her life, both old and new, had come to bear witness on this special day. Imari, the mighty Khosi of Khala, paid his respects with a bow. The white dashiki he wore for such an occasion was intricately embroidered with shimmering gold thread. Lancelin cheered beside him. His face was creased with a broad smile. His sandy blonde hair was pushed back and he wore a formal tunic in the colors of his home. Even her reluctant brother stood near the back. Likely the only gloomy face present. She forced herself not to think of all the empty spaces she had wished to be occupied.
Her parents’ absence stood as an unmistakable void beside her. She knew the one who would take as much joy in this moment as they would have was missing as well. Eloy, the High King who had given his life so that this moment could be possible. Not just this moment, but all future moments of peace, prosperity, and hope still to come. Stepping closer and closer as the crowd watched, her eyes drew upward to her waiting groom.
Titus reached his strong hand out to help her onto the platform. His face held a tearful smile. She couldn’t help but feel hot streams of her own tears run down her slender face, an embarrassing moment for a shield-maiden. They stood hand in hand before the people. The royal councilor of the court who was residing over the wedding cleared his throat.
“We have gathered on this joyous day to witness the union of High King Titus and High Queen Lydia.”
She exchanged a happy smile with Titus at those words.
“We gather as a witness to this union but, as the high courts require, are there any from these parties who wish to speak against such a royal union?”
It took all Lydia’s strength not to glance at her brother. As the moment of silence carried, she sighed a breath of relief.
He has not come to ruin this day after all, she thought.
“As a member of the royal court, I stand as official witness to the uniting of these two. May they reign over us with all knowledge, wisdom, and strength.”
“And may their reign be long lived,” answered the crowd in unison.
“What vows do you give?” asked the councilor.
Titus took a step forward. “I, Titus, vow that so long as I draw breath, I will love, serve, and protect you. I will stand by your side until my last day. No matter how dark the night, no matter how difficult the day, I will be yours to the end of this road.”
She wiped away a tear from her eye as a warm smile filled her face. “I, Lydia, vow to stand with you, my King, all your days. To love, cherish, and defend you. You have stood beside me in my darkest days. You have loved me even when all would declare us enemies. I will stand with
you until my last breath. The road behind has not been easy, but, with you by my side, I will gladly walk the road ahead.”
“We who are witnesses shall hold these words as bond. With that, I declare you High King and High Queen of Islandia. You may kiss your bride.”
Titus moved to embrace her. With tenderness and passion they kissed. Their bond was sealed before their people. The crowd erupted into cheers. Thunderous applause filled the air as those gathered embraced their new High King and Queen. Parting from their embrace, the young couple turned to join the crowd’s celebration. With lifted arms they rushed forward ready for the evening's festivities to begin.
The night was filled with laughter. Lydia hadn’t felt happiness in so long, and now, she was married to the man she loved. Her heart could barely contain her bliss. She couldn’t believe the joyful sights and sounds within the palace halls. Even Geralt joined in the celebration by dancing, something she had never seen in her whole life. He traded his downcast demeanor for a small twinkle in his otherwise serious eyes. He wasn’t half bad either. He swung from partner to partner with ease.
“Kind of like a fight,” he joked to those who watched him in surprise. “Just without swords.”
Imari and his companions stole the show as they displayed the traditional dances of the Khalans, typically reserved for their own celebrations. She and Titus enjoyed a laugh as Lancelin moved to give the dance a try. His fumbling attempt made the typically smooth man look like a newborn fawn.
Most of all, Lydia loved being with her king. Titus gave her a knowing smile as they both relaxed in the first real moment of peace they had ever known. They had never had this type of freedom before, to laugh, love, and be with one another without darkness or impending doom. They drank in the scene of the torchlit hall from their seats at the royal table.
“Shall we dance, my Queen?” Titus asked, extending a hand.
“We shall,” she said with a delighted grin.
The rhythm carried them away into the night. She twirled, dipped and laughed until she could laugh no more. On this special night all the pain, all the hurt, and every difficult thing that they had endured was washed away. Hours passed in this happy reverie. As the crowds began to disperse and the halls quieted down, Titus took her hand.
“Shall we retire, my Queen?” he asked lovingly.
She laid her head on his chest. “Yes, I think we shall.”
She let out a surprised yelp as he lifted her in his arms. A playful look crossed his face. They laughed and kissed as they made their way through the halls to the royal chambers. As they entered, he placed her on her feet once more. His hands clasped her shoulders gently.
“Lydia, I want you to know something.”
She looked him in his eyes. Behind the dark green depths, a look of tender love resided.
“I cannot express how much you mean to me, without you… I…”
She lifted a hand to his cheek. “I know.”
She pulled him close with a passionate kiss. She had found the one her heart had longed for, and now until the end she would hold him near.
1
Titus
One Year Later
Titus stared down at the parchment in his hands. He found himself subconsciously rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the coarse texture of the document as he read its contents. He held a message sent from Samudara Port. Its contents spoke of strangers arriving from faraway lands. Strangers landing on those shores was not unheard of since Samudara was the only city that traded with outsiders, but this… this was different. Hundreds of ships finely decorated had arrived at the docks. The crew arrived with barely any supplies remaining, but all of them stood armed as fighting men. The letter was more vague on details than he would have liked.
His frown deepened. This was disturbing news indeed. This potential threat was not helped by the absence of almost the entirety of Kingshelm's and Leviatanas’ forces. The armies were away near the Forest’s Edge to resolve the conflict between New Valkara and Aiden’s rebel forces. Titus let out a sigh as he put the parchment down.
“And here I thought the days would be easier now that the Felled Ones were gone,” he mumbled to himself.
“No days are easy, sire. Even the easy ones,” said the voice of his royal advisor, Markus. He was a thin man, beginning to bald, and usually had a bad sense of timing, but he was an honest man. Titus needed more of those.
“True,” Titus said curtly.
“Shall I request a convening of the council, my lord?” asked Markus.
“Yes, they should hear of this news.”
Markus turned to leave. Before he vanished, Titus spoke again.
“And make sure Lancelin and Lydia are sent word of this.” His voice carried the authority of his position.
Markus gave a bow of acknowledgement and scurried down the hall.
“I should be with them,” Titus sighed to himself. Lancelin had been given charge of the army to make sure the Riverlands were safe from the conflict brewing at their borders. In the last few weeks, movement had been seen around the forest that divided Valkara and the Riverlands. The reason soon became clear. Jorn had ordered a path cleared through the dense woods in order to circumvent the long journey south. Titus knew the man's target immediately: the true Valkaran king, Aiden.
He and the collection of men he had gathered from all of Islandia had retreated to the far north near the town known at the Forest’s Edge. There they had set up a base of operations into which they would recruit others to their cause. They sought to win back a kingdom of their own. Titus didn’t necessarily love the idea of a freely roaming army in his lands, but as long as they kept away from those in his charge, he saw no need for aggression. All that had changed now.
Jorn’s legitimacy was at stake as long as the true Valkaran royalty lived, so now he planned to end any threat to his claim. Of course, when Lydia heard all this she had demanded to go. Titus knew better than to stand in her way. Besides, family was family no matter how frustrating.
“If only I could stand at your side, my love…” Titus thought ruefully.
He would have overseen the march himself, but strange rumors had reached Kingshelm of a force on the horizon. His kingly duties clashed with his heart. He felt he had to stay if the rumors happened to be real. When the whispers turned out to be true, he felt better for remaining behind.He still regretted not being with Lydia as she faced her past. She had understood. She always did. Her clarity of purpose was one of many reasons she made not only a great High Queen, but a wonderful wife.
He gently placed the parchment down onto the table before him. Slowly he moved to a basin of water in the corner of his chambers. Dipping his hands into the bowl, he brought a refreshing splash of the cool liquid onto his face. His gaze lifted to a tiny mirror placed over the basin. In its reflection he saw a familiar face with a subtle change in his expression. Where once he had stood as an untested youth, a more regal and wise man now stood before the mirror and stared back at him resolutely. His physical form had broadened with muscle from the past year of conflict and hardship. He still kept his brunette hair closely trimmed on the sides while keeping its length on the top.
The biggest difference he noticed was in the eyes looking back at him. The hazel pools carried a burden, one that felt the weight of a kingdom resting on his shoulders. How he wished his father or Eloy, or both, were there with him. How inadequate he felt for the tasks ahead. He knew Lydia would scold him for such talk. Somehow she would find the words to make him feel that even without decades of experience, they could stumble upon a solution to any difficulty. But, all alone in the palace he felt less sure.
Stretching to shake off the midday weariness, he moved out into the palace halls, stopping only to grab his trusted blade, Dawn Bringer. The halls were filled with activity. Servants busied themselves with the day’s tasks. They all seemed thankful for a life of normalcy again. He wasn’t as sure. Had life returned to normal?
Something deep inside him felt that the world had forever changed, and would continue to change, no matter what he did to rule and protect his people. He didn’t understand his feeling. He wished Lydia were there to help him make sense of it.
As he glanced around the halls he couldn’t help but question his feeling. He smiled as he beheld the beginnings of restoration. The work would take years, maybe even decades, before Kingshelm could be fully restored to shine in its former glory.But the work being done had brought back some utility to the place. He caught sight of Markus’ waving hand, breaking him from his trance.
“The Royal Council is awaiting you, my King,” Markus said with a respectful bow.
Time to break the news to them, Titus thought.
Markus led the way with a quick pace down the hall until they reached a broad wooden door resting beneath the throne room’s double stairway. He extended his hand to open the door to the council chamber and usher Titus in. Several members of the royal court sat in the room, waiting expectantly.
“Greetings, council members,” Titus said with a nod as he took a seat.
The members stood in honor of his arrival and each returned a greeting of their own. They had all been newly appointed to their positions. Titus could sense that each of them stumbled about with their words and actions, as if they had entered into completely uncharted territory.
“Word has reached me that no small force has landed on our shores at Samudara Port,” Titus began.
“No small force? What exactly does that mean?” asked councilor Ambrose, a young, regal man with jet black hair.
“At least a hundred ships full of armed fighting men,” Titus announced, assessing his councilmen.
“This could be nothing less than an act of war!” cried Adrian, an older man with graying hair.
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