War of the Realms Box Set

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Obviously, they did not care for the king,” Osiris said, looking over at the guard holding the golden bag. “They only moved the people. And why, without crops or growable fields, do we give a damn about the people? Let them have them.”

  “Your Grace,” Holland said, stepping forward.

  “Enough!” the king bellowed. “You won. You served Avalon well. I will hear no more about this. Now gather the men, we set off for home.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Holland said with reluctance.

  “Oh, and Holland,” the King said as Holland moved toward the exit of the tent, “where did you get that Golden Bag?”

  Holland stopped for a moment, rubbing his fingers across the small bag, holding the stone on his belt.

  “I think you know that answer,” Holland said, looking back at the king before moving out of the tent and approaching his army.

  The king nodded and looked over at the bag. He knew Leonetta must have given that to him, and though it angered him, he decided to keep it quiet. She was up to something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Had she still held that quaint innocence of a child, he would think only a good heart was behind it, but with her sudden interest in the kingdom and her alliance with the Wild, he knew a good heart had nothing to do with it.

  The king pushed the thought from his mind and began gathering his things for the flight home. He would return to his kingdom in celebration, but he would need to leave several men behind to guard Gillian as Avalon began to take over the realm. Osiris gave the word to Holland, who sent a few hundred men to the castle with the promise of reparations to be delivered within a moon’s cycle. Then, without much preparation, the armies took off toward Avalon.

  ***

  Leonetta stood on the balcony, watching as the troops approached, circled the castle, and began to land. She moved to the garden to welcome her father home. He nodded at her and moved into the castle. Vitraus locked eyes and nodded at Leonetta, and she smiled before glancing at Holland and moving back to the sanctuary. There would be no discussion of the future that day, as the troops were exhausted and the king ordered a day of rest.

  Slowly, the kingdom gathered at the castle walls and watched as the flag of Gillian was lowered from the circle of flags representing the seven realms. In its place, another flag of Avalon was raised, causing cheers to erupt from the gathering people of Avalon. Leonetta moved to the balcony overlooking Thorn and listened to the joyous rapture, something she hadn’t heard in a very long time.

  “It’s almost like the old days of Avalon,” Holland’s voice broke through.

  “Yes,” Leonetta replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon as the sun began to lower in the sky. “But it is not. And it will never be again.”

  “Leonetta,” Holland spoke as she turned to walk away, “do you think it is odd that no townspeople were found in Gillian?”

  “Very strange,” she said with little change in expression.

  “I thought so as well,” he replied, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. “Hopefully, they were not hiding anywhere out of sight.”

  “Why?” Leonetta responded.

  “Well, we torched all of Gillian,” he said nonchalantly. “Would be a shame to see so many lives lost for nothing.”

  Leonetta smiled slightly before bowing and walking back into the castle. Holland turned back toward the horizon, realizing just how tired he was. The princess’ astute disregard for Holland’s return burned slightly less in his chest as he thought about his victory over Gillian.

  “May I get you anything?” a small voice from behind Holland cooed.

  “Ah, Malaya,” he said, turning around to be greeted by the dark-haired beauty. “I think not. I am going to retire. Unless…no, never mind.”

  “If you change your mind,” she said, blushing and turning back to the castle. Though Holland wished to stop the aching he felt for Leonetta even in this certain circumstance, he could not bring himself to take comfort in another woman. He slapped his hand against the railing and watched as the last sliver of sun disappeared below the horizon. Smoke simmered over the land, carried across realms by the winds of Allenforth. It wouldn’t be long until news of Gillian’s overtake hit the other kings’ ears, and Holland was looking forward to the early morning meeting with the king.

  Meanwhile, the night was not as comforting to the king as he sat in his chambers, staring at the golden bag perched atop his desk. He moved in and out of his chambers, pacing the halls of the castle and deciding what was next for Avalon. By sunrise, he stood in the council room, maps spread out before him, and hot coffee being brewed by servants in the corner. Ardontis walked past the council room doors and stopped to peer inside, realizing someone was in there. He walked in casually, looking down at the maps strewn across the tables, lines drawn, and realms circled.

  “Your Grace,” Ardontis greeted the king. “Up so early? Actually, from the look of your tired eyes, and that of your servants, it seems you have not slept at all.”

  “There is too much at stake,” the king said, looking up at Ardontis. “We are sure to find retaliation from our move against Gillian. And I’ll be damned if I don’t strike first.”

  “Your Grace,” Ardontis said, palming his hands together. “Do you think it wise to make such grave decisions without any rest or food? Let us get you to your chambers, where you can take leave and begin anew after your body has recovered.”

  “I told you, Ardontis,” the king replied harshly, “I am done sitting idly by. We made a choice to take Gillian, and they left us with nothing. Now is the time to move. Gather Holland and his sergeants. We have war to discuss.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” Ardontis turned toward the door, a smile moving over him.

  He moved quickly to gather the men at the king’s request and nodded briefly at Leonetta as he passed the sanctuary, where she waited for word. Leonetta nodded in understanding and held tightly to the charm Holland had sent. She had put it on a thin piece of twine and tucked it in her bosom. Though the sentiment seemed romantic in nature, her reasoning was more tactical than anything else. That symbol of the gods that the people of Avalon guarded so tightly was a reminder to her of her duty as future queen.

  Holland pushed open the door to the Council Room and was met with the exhausted face of the king, though his motivation seemed to be seeping from his eyes. He waved flippantly at Holland and put his hands out to show what he had been working on. Holland’s sergeants nodded to him as he apprehensively approached and began to trace the lines. Surprisingly, the king’s work was more than tactful. It was brilliant, but the shock of what he was proposing took Holland back a moment. He looked to his sergeants and nodded toward the door.

  “Please excuse us a moment,” Holland requested. He watched as the men left the room and closed the doors behind them.

  “Your Grace,” Holland began, “you have done well. However, I was not aware that Gillian’s overthrow would lead your sights to be set on the entirety of the seven realms. Maybe we should take it one step at a time. Does waging war against realms that have aligned with Avalon for centuries seem wise in a time where food and resources are scarce?”

  “What better time would there be?” the king roared in enthusiasm. “I am the King of Kings, Holland. And I wish to be placed back on high as our kingdom and our gods have intended. If any king in these realms chooses to give theirs up, they may stand as a ruler of that land, in alliance with the only king this side of Fortune.”

  “Do you really think any of these kings will relinquish their title?” Holland asked in surprise at the king’s fortitude.

  “If they are smart,” he replied. “Otherwise, their heads can join the Gillian king’s on the stake I erected just this morning.”

  “And how shall we give these kings that option?” Holland replied.

  “I have had the scribe write this letter,” the king said, handing him a parchment. “Five copies will be drawn and sent to the five remaining kings. They will have
seven days to return their responses.”

  “And then what?” Holland stated, not trying to sound argumentative. “We take them all at once? If–and I say ‘if’ hoping you will rethink this choice–we go with this plan, don’t you believe that sending one letter at a time is more strategic?”

  The king turned his head and looked down at the map of the seven realms. Holland took the opportunity to move beside him, recognizing there was little hope of changing the king’s mind. He pointed to the east, to the realm of Shireforth.

  “Here,” he stated. “We send the King of Shireforth the letter first and wait for response. If we poise our armies at the east tip off Avalon and receive a negative response, it will be easy to strike before they have had much time to prepare.”

  “Yes,” the king said, nodding his head in agreeance. “Well done, Holland.”

  “But still,” Holland said standing and taking a step back. “I feel there is a better way than this.”

  “And what would that be, Commander?” Leonetta spoke as she entered the room. “Allow them to strike on us first? We have made the first move, and now we must not back down, or Avalon and the new Avalon where Gillian once stood is as good as gone.”

  Surprised by Leonetta’s support of more war, Holland stepped back and awaited a response from the king. He watched as the king studied Leonetta’s face, not showing any anger for her intrusion. Holland could tell the king was as skeptical as he was at Leonetta’s ‘sudden’ change of heart.

  “Father,” she said, walking toward him and putting his hands in hers, “Avalon will die without fertile soil and grain. I will not stand here and not place blame on you, but I will also take some of the blame on myself. As future queen, I could have helped better to prepare our kingdom for greatness, but I stood back and watched as it dwindled into ash. I believe the commander’s thoughts on Shireforth are perfect, and though you may take my opinion with a grain of salt, I believe sooner is better than later.”

  “The princess–and queen as of Sunday–has spoken,” Osiris replied, winking at Leonetta. The king pulled his hands from her and turned back toward his chair. Holland watched as Leonetta wiped her hands on the front of her dress as if she were disgusted by his touch. She glanced at Holland but took a step toward the table, ignoring him.

  “If you send the letter tomorrow,” she began, “we will have enough time to hold the wedding and coronation before the war begins. We can bring a new light to the people of Avalon, getting them to move behind us as we move to take the seven realms.”

  “Yes,” the king said, shaking his head. “Holland, are you ready to take my daughter as your bride?”

  Holland stood for a moment, staring at Leonetta. Though her face was still that of the woman he fell in love with many marks ago, he felt as if he no longer knew her. Everything in him wanted to say no until he found that girl once again, but he had given his word when he took the position of commander and found that backing out would be a great dishonor to the king.

  “Whatever you wish,” Holland said, bowing. “It would be my honor.”

  “Excellent,” the king said, slapping his hands together. “Then it is settled. A wedding and then our future restored.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Falling Embers

  The next few days were a blur for Holland, as he had never seen the Kingdom preparing for a wedding and coronation at the same time. He was hounded by tailors, constantly questioned about the future of his kingdom, and inundated by Ardontis with the traditions and happenings he would be responsible for as the husband of the queen and future king of Avalon. By the time Sunday morning came, Holland had realized he hadn’t even had a moment to feel nervous, or excited, or any emotion really about taking Leonetta’s hand in front of the gods.

  As the sun rose over the horizon, a knock came on Holland’s door, and in came Ardontis, bearing robes for Holland to adorn during the ceremony. Holland was already awake, having slept little the night before. He smiled nervously and stood while Ardontis had the servants dress Holland. It was customary for the groom-to-be, with the King, to wake the princess and bring her to the queen’s chambers for the servants to attend to her. Though Leonetta was already awake, she would lay in the bed and wait for her groom.

  “When did the letter reach Shireforth?” Holland asked Ardontis as the servants straightened the last of the sashes. “Have we any word?”

  “It was sent shortly after your agreeance to have the wedding,” Ardontis said as he pinned the flaming crown symbol onto his lapel. “We have heard nothing back as of yet. But you need to push those thoughts from your mind and enjoy your day with your bride. You have loved Leonetta since you were a child.”

  Holland looked at Ardontis with surprise as he smiled knowingly. He hoped that, once they were joined, shared a bed, and lived together as husband and queen, that their love for one another would spark once again. He knew deep inside Leonetta was that loving, free-spirited fae he had spent his life chasing.

  When Ardontis was done with the pruning, Holland walked out into the hall and bowed at the king, who was waiting for him. Slowly, they walked the hall toward Leonetta’s room, nerves begin to flutter in Holland’s stomach. As Holland looked at the king and reached for the doorknob of her chambers, Ardontis’ hand fell upon his, and the two looked up at a member of the shifter army running down the hall with a parchment in his hand.

  “Your Grace,” he said, bowing as he handed the paper to him with the seal of Shireforth on the outside.

  The king opened the letter and read quietly to himself before taking a deep breath and handing it over to Holland. Holland looked at the king’s expression and peered down at the words written on the scroll. Anger boiled in his stomach as the words resonated through his head.

  King Osiris,

  We were not surprised by your lack of moral obligation to the seven realms. We hold our standards high in Shireforth and will die by the hands of the gods before we relinquish even a parcel of our land to Avalon. Shame shall find you for what you have done to the great ruler of Gillian. You are no more the King of Kings than are the servants at your feet. We will meet you on the battlefield, and may your head remain on your shoulders, we will see your body burned in the once lush fields that peppered Avalon long ago.

  King Elthion, Ruler of Shireforth

  “How dare he?!” Holland shouted forth. “We must strike now before it is too late.”

  “I agree,” the king said through gritted teeth. “Ardontis, rouse the princess and give many apologies, but her future kingdom needs its leaders. Sadly, we must postpone the wedding. The coronation will happen immediately, for that cannot be withheld by man.”

  Ardontis nodded and waited until the king and commander had stormed off down the halls to make preparations before entering the princess’ room. As the door swung open, a vision of Leonetta sitting on the edge of her bed met his eyes, a smile on both of their faces.

  “Has it been done?” Leonetta asked as she stood.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Ardontis said as the door closed behind him, shielding the castle from the whispers of the princess.

  The coronation began within the hour but was far less grand than those of the past. In the sanctuary among just a dozen guards and the king, Ardontis commenced the era of the new queen. Once the crown was placed upon her head, the king and commander walked swiftly from the castle, calling for the army to assemble. Carrying scrolls up the hill to the Wild, the king pulled his armor over his chest, ignoring Holland’s request that he stay behind in safety.

  Holland spoke swiftly but poignantly to the elder and watched as he relayed the plans to his army. Before the sun had begun to move from its highest point, the dragons were in the air, toting the brave and powerful army of Avalon. The actions were quick, but had been in motion since the decision for war was made. As commander, Holland didn’t like to do anything haphazardly and hoped that he had not given Shireforth the time to assemble their ogres and other creatures of magical ability.
/>   The Wild flew into Shireforth’s countryside with intent, blowing fire on what seemed to be an abandoned row of farmhouses. Holland ignored the all-too-familiar view of an abandoned kingdom and pushed forward to the capital city of Linhaven. As they crossed the hills, the water of Fortune in the distance to their left and the sun already below the skyline, Holland could see the troops lined up, row after row, in defense of their city walls. This battle would not be as easy as that of Gillian, but Avalon still had one thing none of the other realms had, and that was the wild dragons of Allenforth.

  The Wild let the troops off with enough room to assemble into ranks, their numbers much smaller than Shireforth’s. The king rode upon Holland’s back with the intention to fly high, swooping down on the castle and hunting down the king. As the Avalon army marched forward, swinging their swords high in the air, the Wild preceded them, blowing scorching flames into the rows of Shireforth soldiers. From above, you could see the men scrambling, lines of charred earth cutting into their uniform motions. Ashes blew high into the sky and out toward the ocean.

  Holland and Osiris moved over what looked to be an abandoned city, markets left untouched and houses stripped clean. They circled the castle and landed in the grove in front of the palace doors. The king of Shireforth, strong in intent and braver than any Wild, opened the castle doors and marched down to meet the King of Kings. Holland moved back and allowed the king to engage, ready to move if necessary.

  “I see you have brought your sidekick,” the king taunted Osiris. “It is not surprising for a gluttonous king, who can barely tie his shoes without a servant.”

  The two kings engaged in battle, swinging their swords high over their heads as guards, poised for attack, stood at the ready. Shireforth’s leader laughed as King Osiris began to pant, not used to wielding such a heavy sword. Osiris went down on one knee, and Elthion nodded to the guards.

  “Bring me the head of the mighty king when you are done with him,” he stated, sheathing his sword.