by N M Zoltack
A Time of Turmoil
In the Eye of the Dragon Book One
N. M. Zoltack
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Epilogue
Author’s note
Other Books By N. M. Zoltack
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by N. M. Zoltack
ISBN: 9781096434214
Cover Artist: Joewie Aderes
https://www.deviantart.com/loztvampir3
Typography: Covers by Julie
https://www.facebook.com/groups/JMNARTcoversbyjulie/
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Created with Vellum
For all those who believe in the fantastical.
1
Princess Vivian Rivera
The scene threatened to overwhelm Princess Vivian Rivera. All the sights, the sounds, the smells… So many people pushed and shoved, vying for better positions to see better. The crowd all shouted and cursed and called for Dicun Lewis to be killed. The stench of the unwashed mixed with body odor masked the scent of the cooked meat being given out to the masses.
Disgusting and appalling, to be certain. Vivian shuddered with revulsion. The only good aspect to her being the youngest meant that she would never have to oversee these terrible proceedings.
That would fall on the shoulders of her sister. Already, the task lay before Princess Rosalynne. Their father, King Jankin, was nowhere in sight. Hardly a shock. He could not walk, had not been able to for years. He never left the castle proper. His wife, not their mother, Queen Aldith, was not present either. This suited Vivian just fine. She did not care for Aldith, not that Vivian would ever be anything but pleasant to the woman’s face.
The outer courtyard held a few trees, the buds just beginning to bloom. A single pink petal floated on the gentle breeze, and Vivian plucked it out of the air. The softness rivaled the silk of her turquoise dress. Silver beads adorned her chest and the last several inches of the gown. Faint silver spirals decorated the skirt. The hem was slightly higher in the front, just enough that the tips of her silver slippers were visible. Not her ankles, of course. The back just brushed the ground.
Beside her on the dais, her sister stood tall but awkward. Her gown was of a similar design, only emerald with gold. At seventeen, Rosalynne would appear beautiful if she would only smile. She was frowning, though.
She wants to be here as much as I do.
On Vivian’s other side was their brother. Noll was not a typical prince. He had his own way about him, and everyone just let him be. His trousers and shirt were a slight shade of gray that almost seemed silver. His surcoat matched Rosalynne’s gown. The sigil of Rivera was embroidered upon it. The gold of the sun and her rays glinted in the day’s sunlight. The green grass of the hills was upraised and as soft as actual blades. Twin eagles soared above, fierce and demanding.
Noll was fiddling with the sleeves, and Vivian coughed slightly in his direction.
He ignored her.
“Stop,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “We are about to begin.”
“Begin what?” he asked simply.
She sighed. Five times already, she had to explain this to him. He hated to wear his surcoat and continually fussed about wearing it. His memory was terrible. When she had been younger, she thought he repeated questions to annoy her. Oh, no. That was simply Noll. A year older than her at fifteen but he acted like a child yet. She did love him as much as she could, but this was not the time to be anything but proper. A man was about to be killed for crimes against their family and all the land of Tenoch Proper.
If one dared to mention the Li family, they must be killed. It was as simple as that, a crime punishable by death to ensure that peace and harmony lasted throughout the Rivera reign, long let that be.
“Stand still. Pretend you are a sentinel. Can you do that?” Vivian asked Noll.
He clicked the heels of his shiny black boots together and stared straight ahead, arms out.
“Put your arms at your side!”
“What is he doing?” Rosalynne demanded.
“I’ll handle it,” Vivian said. “What are you doing?”
“Being a tree.”
She sighed. “I didn’t say to be a tree. A sentinel. A guard. Pretend you’re a guard at attention. Stand tall, like that, but with your arms—”
“Do I get a sword then?” he asked eagerly.
Vivian blinked a few times in dismay. She hadn’t thought it wise for him to be here, to witness this. Last time, he had nightmares for weeks. Did anyone ask her opinion of the matter? Certainly not but well they should. She would make a fine, grand queen someday.
If only she had been first and not last.
With the king and, surprisingly, the queen both absent, Noll must be here.
Noll slowly lowered his arms, but he slouched now, wearing an awful scowl.
Rosalynne was scowling herself. She nodded to a guard dressed all in black. He disappeared and returned with five other guards, the prisoner between them. The other guards wore a surcoat to match Noll’s.
The crowd roared with approval that the day’s frightful activities might finally commence.
Dirt covered Dicun Lewis’s face. Surely the guards must have washed him. How peculiar. His skin appeared weatherworn, his face horrifically thin. The rags he wore seemed too baggy for his gaunt form. His head hung low as the crowd slowly parted for the procession along the cobblestones. The crowd’s cheers reverted to screams and howls of disapproval. They spat at Dicun Lewis and threw food at him, and someone even landed a punch.
The guard in black did not appreciate this, not at all. A raised fist halted the procession, and he towered over the offending man. The mob hushed, and an eerie silence settled over the courtyard.
“He is not yours to handle,” the guard said.
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br /> The man nodded, cowering away, but those around him forced him to stay there.
“Do not interfere again,” the guard warned.
Again, the man nodded. His nose was large, his eyes small, and he bobbled his head up and down furiously.
“Apologize to your princesses and prince,” the guard directed.
“A thousand pardons, Your Highnesses.” The man fell to his knees.
Rosalynne nodded once, the movement crisp and regal.
Vivian’s stomach churned. She appreciated being bowed to, but this display of force always bothered her. Yes, she wished to be queen, but her king, whoever he would be, would be the one to handle the terrible side of the royal duties.
Father has the right of it, hiding away.
Without further delay, the guards marched Dicun Lewis up the stairs to the dais. Rosalynne stepped forward. Noll did likewise, but Vivian gripped his arm, shook her head, and tugged him closer to her.
“Dicun Lewis,” Rosalynne said. Her thin voice only carried in the breeze because of the absolute stillness of the crowd. “Do you deny the charges against you?”
The prisoner lifted his head. “What charges?” he asked. “You Riveras came here, stole the crown from the rightful rulers, and—”
“The Li family is no more. Right or wrong, that is the way of things. To speak out against the royal family courts death. As you have done so in the presence of all those here in this assembly, I have no choice in my decree.”
Vivian swallowed hard. Noll grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. She squeezed back.
“Cut off his head!” someone in the crowd shouted.
“Kill him!”
“Make him kneel first!”
The mob was growing unruly. Vivian stared at her sister. Rosalynne appeared a bit worried herself. This was not the first time Rosalynne had to oversee an execution, and Vivian was not in the least bit envious. In fact, she assumed it would be rather awful to have to administer the lethal sentence. It was terrible enough witnessing the punishment up here. The last time, the stench of loosed bowels had been enough to make Vivian nearly grow sick. Previous to that offensive occasion, blood had splattered onto the hem of that gown. Vivian had the hem cut off and the gown completely redone into two new ones so that she never had to wear that repugnant dress again.
Plus, she had two gowns instead of one. A princess could never have too many gowns.
Yes, she was focusing on that instead of the proceedings. Her sister was speaking more, but Vivian ignored her in favor of watching the crowd. One woman’s cheeks were blotchy. A man’s hair was thinning, and the shine from his bald spot distracted her.
Nothing, however, could cause her to not mind the rolling of the heavy guillotine up the ramp to the dais. Dicun Lewis, to his credit, did not cower. He stood straight and rigid, almost like a perfect soldier, as he awaited his death.
The guard in black gripped a mask and slipped it over his head. At this point, Vivian wondered why the guard bothered, but she would not be able to swing the axe herself while looking at the man she was about to kill. Her lip would quiver, her guilt all over her face…
Then again, this man wished for her and her family to not be princesses and king. He wanted to go back to the previous rulers.
The Li family had been destroyed and for good reason. They were weak and pushovers, and if they had remained in power for much longer, all of Tenoch Proper would have been in an uproar. War would have broken out if the Riveras had not stepped up.
We saved thousands of lives by killing one family. We do not have blood on our hands.
This all happened before Vivian and her siblings were born. Her father had been only two years older than Vivian was when he first became king.
How could this Dicun Lewis wish to go back to that time? The Lis hadn’t been able to stand up to anyone. How they even became the royal family Vivian didn’t understand.
You have to be strong. Powerful. Just. It’s not a matter of being good. You have to do what is right even when it’s difficult.
Which meant Vivian should not be acting like a child for this execution.
She continued to hold Noll’s hand for his sake and watched as the guards halted the guillotine. Dicun Lewis climbed willingly into position, and the guard in black stepped forward.
Rosalynne swallowed audibly. “Dicun Lewis, I sentence you to die. May you burn for your betrayal unless you wish to admit your error now.”
“I admit no such thing.”
“Then die and burn.”
The glint of the axe flashed. The rope was cut, and the blade sliced down. Blood squirted some. The head landed in the basket. The crowd cheered, but Vivian’s stomach churned with disgust and even fear. If the crowd ever turned against them, they would be the ones to die.
That would never happen. They were too strong for that.
Her father, who could not walk…
The queen, who was as gaunt as Dicun Lewis…
Noll, who was not quite right…
Sun above, protect us all.
2
Prince Noll Rivera
The man’s head fell into the basket. It was such a strange thing.
“Why did that happen?” Noll asked Vivian.
She sighed. She always sighed around him. Then again, a lot of people sighed around him.
“I told you. He…”
His sister continued to talk, but Noll was looking out into the crowd. They all seemed happy. Was that man playing a game? Had he won?
“I want to play the game.”
“What game?” Vivian asked. “No. No, Noll.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not a game for you. Trust me.”
Noll did trust her.
The wooden contraption was wheeled away, and the crowd slowly left. The guards all left, and Rosalynne walked off too.
Vivian released Noll’s hand. “Time to go back to your room.”
“Yes,” Noll lied.
He did enter the castle, but then he went to the inner courtyard. Noll wasn’t supposed to go there without a guard. That day, though, Noll wanted to be independent. He was a prince, after all. He shouldn’t have to have a guard at all times. There was no reason for him to need a guard while in the castle. Outside in the marketplace, maybe. Not here.
Far more trees grew within the inner courtyard. Oaks and elms and poplars. Flowering bushes blossomed all around him.
Here, Noll felt most at home. People sometimes looked at him strangely or would talk down to him. Plants didn’t judge. Plants grew. Plants smelled nice. Plants amazed him.
Plants never disappointed him.
Well, there was the one tree. Noll had loved that tree. He’d planted the seed, and he waited and waited for it to grow. And it did. It grew and grew and grew, and then it just died. A large black spot attacked it. Noll tried to pick away at the bark, but it hadn’t mattered. They had to chop down the tree. The stump remained, and Noll often came here to sit on it.
He sat on the stump and watched a spider spin a web. The silk sparkled and winked in the sunlight. The overlay of the silk in such a strange pattern mesmerized Noll for so long that his rear end grew sore. Noll stood, stretched, and still.
A twig had snapped.
It was late in the afternoon. The gardeners came to work in the courtyard in the morning. No one should be here presently, not even Noll.
He hesitated and then dashed behind a tree. Noll did not wish to be seen. He didn’t have many friends who were his age, but he had been told he was tall for his age. Fourteen. There were more than fourteen trees here.
Focus! He needed to avoid detection so he wouldn’t get in trouble.
He crouched down and held still.
The rustling of a skirt whispered by. Noll held even more still. A lady was here? He’d be in even more trouble then.
“I do not understand how this could have happened,” the lady said.
She sounded familiar. Not his sisters. Someone else.
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“Nothing is without consequence,” a male said.
Consequence. What did that mean? Noll knew that everything happened for a reason. Rosalynne often said that when she was upset about something or another and was trying to accept it anyhow.
Noll understood that well. He couldn’t fathom why he was a prince yet he wasn’t allowed to do all that he wished. Shouldn’t he be able to do whatever he wanted? Climbing trees did ruin his clothes, but they could have more made. It provided work for the peasants. When he did go to the market, he overheard peasants talking about needing jobs. So his destroying clothes would actually be a good thing. Plus, if he got hurt, the physicians would have to be paid to heal him… Yes. See? He should climb more often!
“…not supposed to happen,” the lady said.
“We can deal with it.”
“It is too late for…”
The sound of retching disgusted Noll. His stomach churned, and the stench made him all the more nauseous. He risked taking a few steps to bury his face in some flowers so their cool, refreshing scent could overwhelm the repugnant stink.
“When he finds out…” the man said.
