Chosen By The Berserker (Warlords 0f Farian Book 5)

by Bailey Dark

  Chosen by The Berserker

  Warlords of Farian | Book 5

  Bailey Dark

  Copyright © 2020 by Bailey Dark

  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.

  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

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  One

  Ilisa

  I brushed snowflakes from my lashes and cheeks and pulled the fur hood of my cloak up over my head. Blast this frigid planet… I was ready to get back to Farian. It had only been a week here on Vailstor, but the cold had seeped into my bones and I was finding it hard to get warm, even snuggled into blankets in my spaceship’s bunk at night.

  The snow enveloped my boots as I walked, sinking into the prints behind me as I trudged, collapsing over my steps, as if this planet wanted to forget that an off-worlder was walking its surface.

  I looked behind me and waved for Modifi and Kala to follow me more quickly. They had been reluctant to jump down from the comforting warmth of our transport into the snow of Astrida’s high mountains as well. But, we had been sent here by the signed resolution between our King Kajo and the new leader of Vailstor, General Truloy, to fetch Skarde, the Berserker, the man who we would escort to our planet to become a new Warlord of Farian.

  Four of my most trusted Farian warriors were with me and--

  I lunged to the side into the snow, narrowly missing the thrown spear as it lasered in toward me from the dusky trees to the right.

  “We are attacked!” I called. I pulled myself to my knees, huffing against the weight of the snow pattern stretched across my buried chest and swept aside the next spear with a swift telekinetic defense. It sank into the snowbank, a barely visible line in the pure white.

  “Hold your fire!” I yelled, hoping the translator on my chest could keep up. “We are a contingent from the planet Farian, here to speak with Lord Skarde, sent with orders from General Truloy!”

  There was no response, but there were also no more thrown spears. I looked back toward my Farian warriors, standing braced in the snow, daggers out, knives splayed around their heads ready to fire. I waved my hand to them, telling them to put their weapons away.

  “But, Bravo Ilisa, if they fire again, we need to be ready,” Kala said telepathically.

  “The messenger who was supposed to come ahead of us by horse must have been waylaid. We must trust that they will let us in to show Lord Skarde the scroll from General Truloy. We cannot fire on them. It will break the treaty.” I knew my words to be the ones I must give, as the leader here, but it rankled that we were being attacked and I could not respond as I wanted to… Which was to eviscerate those who felt themselves worthy enough to attack a Farian.

  There was a movement in the trees to the right and a barrel-chested man wearing a fur coat and carrying a large pike stepped toward me. He stopped about ten feet away.

  “What happened to General Blatson?”

  “He was unseated by Commander Cartari of the planet Farian. General Truloy is now the ruler of Vailstor and Farian has initiated a pact with Vailstor that includes a significant contribution and celebration for Lord Skarde. We come bearing that order. Please, I command an audience with your Lord.”

  The man glared at me a moment more and then nodded, beckoning that I stand up.

  “Apologies for the attack. We do not get visitors here.”

  “I understand.” I forced the words out, but they did little to quell the fire burning in my chest. How dare they attack us? It was especially frustrating, since we could lie low every one of their warriors with simple gestures of command. The fact that they were able to think they were winning this confrontation…

  “Leave your weapons on your ship and we will escort you to Lord Skarde.”

  I nodded, the fire in my chest flaring so that my tongue felt thick as I choked out the word: “Agreed.”

  “Put your weapons back on the ship, but do it telekinetically, to show them we do not fear being weaponless amongst those who do not have telekinesis.”

  “Confirmed, Bravo.”

  As I commanded, my four Farians removed their weapons without using their hands and all daggers, knives, crossbows, and swords sailed back into the ship’s hold, through the frigid air, snowflakes slicing against the sharp metal, with our telekinetic power.

  The man’s eyes grew wide as he watched the weapons fly with the powers of the charzbos, the barbarians, as they called us off-worlders from our beautiful planet Farian. His soldiers stepped from the shield of the forest and gathered around us, their eyes also wide, their hands not far from their hilts and their spears still clutched in their hands.

  We might not be holding any weapons, but it was clear to all present that that did not mean we were disarmed.

  The high mountains of Astrida stretched up around us as we paced through the snow, the soldiers of the hold walking much more easily through the mounds in their wide boots, modified to be a type of snowshoe that they could also run in atop the snow. There were ten of them, and just five of us. Two of their soldiers had been left with our ship, but I wasn’t worried. The artificial intelligence of our spaceship knew better than to let anyone inside without proper authority.

  The giant doors of Astrida’s main entrance opened into the base of the mountain, as if the city itself had been carved into its rock. Ramparts, towers, and guard walls stretched along the various precipices as we looked up at its gargantuan size. We could see the tops of ship masts off to the left, noticeable as something different from the bare, snow-caked trees only because of the way they wavered with the motion and crashing of the ocean. The seas against Astrida were bitter and cold, but were one of the most lucrative locations for the mining of calasis. Skarde might be a famed Berserker warrior, but he also ran his hold’s mining operations with a tight and prosperous hand. The salt smell of the ocean was strange, biting in against my cold nose, so different from the fresh salt spray on Farian in its warm climate.

  The doors spread open at our approach and the guards led us in. Thankfully, the snow mounds stopped as we entered, since there was a vast roof built over the pathway through the mountain hold’s hallways and markets. We stomped our feet to clear the snow patches on our clothing and boots and continued to follow our armed escorts.

  People bustled out and about in the streets, doing their daily duties, going about their lives. I couldn’t imagine living somewhere so frigid. I much preferred the coasts of Bristola at home on Farian. I looked forward to being there soon. As the people bustled, they looked at us with those same wide eyes of people who did not often see off-worlders, or maybe did not often see visitors at all.

  The soldiers led us up through the winding m
aze of narrow passages and I wondered, if things went south, would I be able to navigate my men and women back down the steep cobblestone streets. We certainly wound in and out frequently enough. I wasn’t sure if they were purposely trying to make it complicated or if it really was that intricate of a roadway. We could always just blast holes through walls and run.

  But, this was a treaty assignment. We were here to convince Skarde to come back with us. I would be my most pleasant possible. That wasn’t necessarily something I was known for. I was not sent as a public relations emissary. I was a warrior. A first line of defense. A Bravo in an elite Special Operations unit. Sent by Kajo and Commander Axis on this mission to help Cartari because all three of them trusted me to bring Cartari back alive and get things done. Sucking up to a Berserker wild warlord of a foreign land did not seem like the right fit for me…

  Kala nudged me in the arm, as if she could sense my thoughts.

  “It will be all right. We just have to show Skarde what his General is commanding. If he has any resistance, we just deflect back to that. It is our job to get him back to Farian, but we aren’t the ones commanding it. He may be rumored to do things his own way, be a lone wolf and a wild soldier, but he was a soldier in her army. He will obey the command.”

  I smiled at her. The reassurance did help.

  Finally, wide doors that seemed authoritative enough to lead to somewhere important opened before us. Warmth rushed to greet us from a roaring fire and the blaze of the flames on my face was such a welcome respite that I actually smiled, my lips cracking through the frozen frown that had grown there.

  I can do this…

  There were three men and two women seated at a table in the far end of a short hall. There were tapestries draping down the sides and aisles of chairs arrayed, slightly askew, as if they were there for special occasions but just usually got in the way. The five people at the end of the hall near the fire fell silent as we approached. I looked from the tapestries, gorgeous colors depicting everything from gory war scenes to frolicking flower picnics and cascading waterfalls, to the cases upon cases of weaponry arrayed on the walls back in the alcove, fit to defend this fortress if needed.

  “Lord Skarde,” the main soldier who had confronted me said, with a slight bow. “These are emissaries from the planet Farian, who come at the command of General Truloy. They need to speak with you.”

  None of the men responded immediately, but it was clear who was Lord Skarde. He was significantly bigger than the other two, bigger than almost any other man I had ever seen, except for King Kajo, our Beast King of Farian. He had long black hair, currently tucked back in a sloppy bun, some of the strands falling out in waves around his face. He had a gnarled scar slashed across his chin and through part of his cheek on the right side. His shoulders were immense, his short-sleeve shirt not able to hide the swell of muscle of his biceps, triceps, pecs, and deltoids. A slight stir of animal attraction whirled within me that I growled away, but couldn’t help. He was clearly a pristine physical specimen, capable of combat and athletic ability. As a warrior and athlete myself, I respected that, I rationalized the attraction immediately. That was all that attraction was. After all, he was from a planet where they didn’t know telekinetics. He was beneath me.

  Then, he stood, and he towered above me. The firelight only gave so much brilliance to the scene, making the left side of his face a complete shadow, but his right eye glinted red in its flames and lasered straight through to my soul as he surveyed us. “Thank you, Hastings. Please warm your soldiers and help yourselves to some of the wine and food.”

  Skarde crossed his arms, making his muscles bulge even more, and darted looks from all of us. “Who is in the lead for you?”

  “I am. I am Bravo Ilisa, from Bristola on Farian.” I held my hands up, fingers spread wide, then slowly reached into my pocket. Guards stepped forward, weapons aimed at me, but I moved slowly, deliberately. “I bring this scroll from General Truloy, detailing orders for you to return to Farian, our planet, with us, and take command of a set of our frajili mines. This will be an exchange for Farian procuring much of your calasis. You will be given an Alpha Lordship, you will be given ships to oversee, you will be given a seat at the table to ensure the trade deal between Vailstor and Farian goes as intended.”

  Skarde extended his hand and took the scroll from me, his eyes deadlocked on mine. He unwound it and read it in the firelight. He coughed when he had finished and re-rolled it, tapping it in his palm. He handed the scroll to the other men and women at the table to read. He stepped away from the table, pacing near the fire.

  I looked at Kala and Modifi as we waited for his response. They shrugged and we continued to wait in the silence. As his advisors read, they muttered whispered remarks to each other, looking up at Skarde, seemingly half in fear, half in confusion.

  Skarde had not ceased to stare into the fire without speaking. I shifted a bit and flexed my fists at my sides. I was well-warmed by the fire now, but just because I was no longer cold, it didn’t mean I wasn’t still antsy to get off this planet.

  “I believe--”

  Skarde held up his hand, commanding me to stop talking. I obeyed but sighed a very audible huff of disapproval of his rebuke. I was not his to command.

  One of the men held up the scroll to Skarde’s out-held hand. The Berserker took it, unfurled it, read it, then paced back to the raging fire.

  With a guttural, unnatural, nearly wolflike cry of fury, Skarde hurled the scroll into the fire. He did not cease howling, but instead, picked up a nearby chair, held it over his head, then slammed it down on the ground. He picked up pieces and flung it, still raging, still roaring, piece by piece into the fire. He sprang up to the table that had the wine and foods arrayed on it and grabbed two bottles of wine and threw them with a mighty hurl into the fire. They shattered against the back of the fireplace and the liquor ripped a raging roar of flame up from the fire, forcing us all to turn our heads and take steps away from the angry inferno.

  Then, there was silence.

  Just the flickering, crackling, whispering of the flames in the fireplace.

  Skarde turned from staring into the fire, seemingly untouched by the lashing of the flames, his hair fully out of the bun, messy around his face, his figure huge, daunting, beastlike, and he stood before me.

  “I will obey my General’s command but…” Skarde grabbed my chin with a harsh motion. Modifi and Kala had knives out in an instant, palmed into their hand and aimed at his solar plexus. A quick flick of his eyes to the side showed his notice and approval of their motion. I waved my gloved hand to tell them it was okay, to calm, but I knew my eyes were blazing with anger, with full-on pissed-off, how-dare-you-touch-me, and I hoped that this Berserker could read my every emotion. I held his gaze steady. He leaned in close to my face and repeated, “I will obey my General’s commands and I will go with you, Bravo Ilisa from Farian. But I will not like it.” With a swift jerk, he let go of my chin, leaving an impression on my skin, then he stalked away. “I will be ready in two hours. Enjoy the food and wine. I will meet you here.”

  Then he vanished through a side door, most of his contingent of advisors following him just as quickly.

  I sank down into one of the chairs and nodded to my Farian warriors. “Might as well eat.”

  “I’ll grab you a plate,” Kala said.

  I stared into the fire as it finished licking up every drop of alcohol. Great. This was going to be a fantastic week-long voyage back to Farian with Lord Skarde, the Berserker. I wondered why in the world General Truloy had chosen him, of all people, to be a diplomatic envoy. If that fury was ever present, just a tiny push away from the surface, he was going to have a hard time fitting in on Farian. We weren’t so fond of off-worlders, either…

  Two

  Skarde

  The castle on the northern shores where the Farians were installing me was formidable, easily defensible. It was just north of the Bristola empire, a land called Harthen. It had bee
n overseen by a Duke named Fenvitz. I had not heard if he had gone willingly, but it would stand to reason he had been displeased about losing his empire. I certainly was upset at being forced to leave Astrida…

  At the same time, King Kajo seemed to be a trusted leader, someone whose word was followed without question, whose legions would die for him. There had been rumors that reached even Vailstor of the battles over the last few years, and indeed of his Earthling queen, a non-telepath that he had taken as his destiny, his legendary soul-mate to be fated and forever, the beautiful Queen Daphne.

  I turned in the throne room, arms crossed, glancing from one smiling face to another. They were trying their best to look welcoming, but it just seemed too forced to me. I could not get over the idea that they might all be reading my mind… Which was infuriating. Violating… This was a trade agreement, nothing more. I would stay as long as I was needed by Truloy, then I would find my way back to my own lands, installing some other puppet here for this foreign master.

  This Beast King master who would soon find that I was not to be tamed, either.

  I locked eyes with King Kajo and he smiled as I had the thought. I realized then that he might be reading my mind. His smile grew wider and the hairs on the back of my neck raised. Goddamnit. He was reading my mind.

  Do not worry, Lord Skarde. We will leave someone here with you, someone trusted by the Farian elite, who can teach you how to put up mental blocks. It will be needed, trust me. There may be those who will wish to do you harm… I cannot promise that all my Farians will be willing to fall in line easily with a new ruler. But, I can promise you that they will be met with swift consequences if I hear word otherwise. You have the absolute power of my monarchy behind you.