The Blood of Kings
Page 33
To do evil in the name of good—wasn’t that what Ravenna had done, mistaking justice for vengeance? Berengar was no better. He had done terrible things in the belief he was making Fál safer. He thought that because the world was cruel, it needed a cruel man to make it a better place, but what if he was wrong? What if the world needed someone willing to stand above the ugliness and pain and offer something more? He had sneered at Morwen for being naïve, but maybe he was the one who saw things the wrong way.
He remembered how weary he felt when he arrived at Cashel. He’d been on the road for so long, traveling from place to place without a moment’s rest. He threw himself headfirst into battle after battle against overwhelming odds, yet no matter how many he killed, there was always a new evil waiting to emerge. Perhaps Ravenna was right when she said he hoped for death, but instead of extinguishing his spirit, his time in Cashel left him with a renewed sense of purpose. Maybe he could fight for a world that didn’t take little girls and turn them into monsters.
He looked at the clouds and again his thoughts turned toward Ravenna. Was she out there somewhere staring at the same sky, thinking of him? He wondered what might have happened if he had gone away with her when she offered. Even with the knowledge of what she was, the feelings he had for her remained. As he had many times over the previous days, Berengar went back and forth on if he’d made the right decision by showing her mercy. For good or ill, a dangerous sorceress was now at large in Fál. For her sake, he hoped she found some semblance of peace.
Berengar turned away from the tomb. It was almost time to leave Cashel behind, but not yet.
“Come on, old friend,” he said to Faolán. The limp from the injuries she’d sustained during the fight was almost gone.
They passed Prince Aiden’s grave on the way from the royal crypt. It was almost fitting that the grave lay some distance from his father. Alannah had been laid to rest beside the prince, reunited in death with the son she lost. The line of kings stretching back to Brian Boru was ended. It was a reminder that nothing lasted forever, not even in storied Munster.
He walked along the outer wall, which was manned by defenders once more. Nearly three weeks had passed since his return to Cashel. Though the castle itself remained standing, the throne room lay in ruins, exposed for all to see where its walls had crumbled and fallen away in the wake of the coatl’s rampage. Munster’s stonemasons had already begun the work of rebuilding the walls. In time, the castle would be restored to its full splendor, perhaps even better than before. The deeper scars weren’t physical.
Turmoil had seized the capital following the conflict in the throne room. Some believed the warden staged a coup to take power, while others still welcomed the news that the Tainted Princess was forced to flee the kingdom. Berengar remained in the days that followed to restore order. The task was made easier when Ronan and his men returned from the coast after their victory over the Viking fleet, but it would be many years before life in Munster returned to the way it was before Mór’s murder.
Berengar entered the castle for the last time and made his way past the guards to the council chamber, where Ronan and Corrin were poring over maps, discussing the instability throughout the realm resulting from the unoccupied throne. Based on his demonstration of loyalty, Corrin had been named the new thane of Munster. The warden lingered in the background for a time, listening as a group of mercenaries gave a report detailing their successes hunting monsters. At last Ronan looked up and noticed him, and Berengar approached.
“I take it you’re leaving, then.” Ronan looked as if he’d aged five years in the last week. He’d watched the love of his life die before his eyes, only to discover the closest thing he had to a daughter was responsible for her death.
“Aye. My work here is finished.” He handed Ronan the proclamation he’d received from Tara that morning. “The High Queen has appointed you regent of Munster,” he explained as Ronan unfurled the scroll, revealing Nora’s seal. “Until such time as the lords of Munster are able to name a new monarch.”
“Are you certain the people will not doubt my allegiance? I served Mór and his household all my life.” Ronan’s face betrayed considerable unease, which Berengar understood all too well. Though he served the throne with great distinction, he never wanted to be thane of Munster. Now, despite all he had lost, he was again being asked to sacrifice for the good of the realm.
“You’re the only man for the job. There’s no one else who has your experience seeing to Munster’s affairs. Munster needs a protector, now more than ever.”
“Then it is with great reluctance that I accept this solemn responsibility. Lady Morwen assures me it is unlikely Ravenna will attempt to enter my mind again. She claims the magic won’t work properly over great distances.”
“I doubt Ravenna will ever return to Munster,” Berengar said, speaking from experience. “There are too many unpleasant memories for her here.”
Ronan looked away. “We failed her. I failed her.”
Berengar shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself. That way lies madness. Ravenna’s choices were her own. For what it’s worth, I think you were the one person who was always there for her.”
Ronan returned his attention to the map before him. “Are you sure you won’t stay a little longer? Rumor has it that several lords who were loyal to Laird Tierney are talking openly of rebellion. It might be helpful to have a warden on hand.”
“You will. I’ve had word from Tara on that account as well. Darragh is on his way. He should arrive within a fortnight. Between him and Corrin, you should manage all right. Darragh is better at peace than I am.” He looked at Corrin. “Word has it you’re looking for someone to replace you as captain of the guard.”
“Aye. Haven’t had much luck, sorry to say.”
“If you’re open to suggestions, I’d consider Seamus. He’s young and headstrong, but loyal when it counts.”
“Apologies, my thane,” said a guard stationed at the entrance. “There’s a messenger from Cill Airne asking to see you at once. He says it’s urgent.”
Berengar stepped away. “It’s time for me to take my leave.”
“Warden Berengar,” Ronan said just before he crossed the threshold.
Berengar stopped.
“Munster owes you a debt it can never repay.”
“Farewell,” the warden said without looking back. “I wish you good fortune.”
Before departing the castle, he loaded up his belongings. He took little with him—Berengar was accustomed to traveling light. He set out from the royal stables with a new horse, one of Munster’s finest, and made the descent into the city. Were he a sentimental man, he might have walked the city streets, or at least looked back at the castle one final time, but Berengar was not a man given to sentiment.
Morwen waited for him outside the city gate. She wore her gray traveling cloak. The magician held a mare by its lead rope, and Berengar noticed its saddlebags were weighed down with her belongings.
“Ronan offered to reinstate me,” she said.
“He’d be a fool to do otherwise. I couldn’t have defeated Ravenna without you. You helped bring justice to your father’s killers and restore peace to Munster. Mór would be proud.”
“I turned him down.” She drew nearer. “Cashel was my home, but I think it’s time for me to move on. There’s a whole world out there waiting for me.”
Berengar studied her carefully. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to care for someone. He walked alone for a reason. He thought friends were a weakness. Perhaps he was wrong about that too. Morwen hadn’t just saved his life—she’d given him something to live for, as Nora had years ago.
“Please,” she said. “I want to go with you.”
“I promised your father I would keep you safe. I believed bringing you with me would only put you in harm’s way, but now I see you’re more than capable of finding danger on your own. So it seems the only thing to do is keep a closer eye on you.”
“I know.” Berengar returned his gaze to Morwen. “Kneel.”
The magician looked confused for a moment but dropped to one knee. Berengar released his hold on his horse and stood above her.
“Wardens are allowed to choose our own replacements. I didn’t think I’d find someone worthy to follow in my footsteps, until now. I’ll warn you—this life isn’t an easy one. If you come with me, our road will be steeped in peril, with danger hidden in every corner. We will make enemies and face great hardships. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Morwen of Cashel, will you forswear all allegiances, save to Nora, High Queen of Fál?”
“I will.”
“Do you give your life to her service, no matter the cost?”
“I do.”
“Then rise, Morwen, servant of Fál.” He handed her a golden brooch adorned with a silver fox—the High Queen’s sigil. “Wear this on your cloak. Watch me and learn. When I die, you will be warden in my place.”
“Thank you,” Morwen said. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know.” He returned to his horse and swung himself onto the saddle. Morwen hurried to her horse and caught up with him. “So, where are we going?”
“Why?”
“I’ll need a new staff first, if you don’t mind stopping along the way.”
“Not at all,” he said with a laugh. “Try to keep up.”
The warden spurred his horse forward, and together they rode north.
Acknowledgments
The Warden of Fál series came about because I wanted to write a mystery.
I had just finished reading the first book in a friend’s cozy mystery series, and I wondered what a mystery series might look like written by me. How could I bring anything different to the genre?
Around that time, I was at a book signing, and a local publisher told me how well fantasy was selling. I decided I would write a fantasy-mystery series, blending traditional mystery stories with a fantasy-world setting. Suddenly, it all clicked. I had previously written some unpublished fantasy novels set in the world of Fál.
Blood of Kings started out as the first book in the series, until Wrath of Lords (which began as a prequel) took its place. Wrath of Lords is a darker story than Blood of Kings. The Berengar we meet in Wrath of Lords is a broken man. No matter what he does, nothing ever seems to get better.
In Wrath of Lords, a dying Rose tells Berengar it’s worth risking the pain to open his heart to the possibility of friendship. Then along comes Morwen in Blood of Kings, and everything changes. In contrast to the cynical, hardened Berengar, Morwen is youthful and optimistic. Unlike Berengar, who prefers to lead with his axe, Morwen is an avowed pacifist who truly believes she can make a difference. In short, she’s the perfect companion and foil, and I can’t wait to continue their adventures together.
There are a number of people who deserve my thanks for their hard work making this book a reality—first and foremost my parents, Robert and Pamela Romines. Then there’s my team: Jeff Brown, my cover artist; Matt Forsyth, my character illustrator; Maxime Plasse, my map designer; Katie King, my copyeditor; and Margaret Dean, my proofreader. Thank you for helping bring the world of Fál to life. I would also like to thank my cousin, novelist Jacob Romines, for penning the Ballad of the Bloody Red Bear.
And finally, I’d like to thank you—the reader of this book. I used to drive myself crazy trying to find fantasy books that didn’t require spending hours reading other books to know what was going on. I have tried to make each installment in this series relatively self-contained and standalone in nature, while still offering a broader story for returning readers.
And if you enjoyed The Blood of Kings, be sure to check out the next installment—The City of Thieves.
About the Author
Kyle Alexander Romines is a teller of tales from the hills of Kentucky. He enjoys good reads, thunderstorms, and anything edible. His writing interests include fantasy, science fiction, horror, and westerns.
Kyle's lifelong love of books began with childhood bedtime stories and was fostered by his parents and teachers. He grew up reading Calvin and Hobbes, R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series, and Harry Potter. His current list of favorites includes Justin Cronin's The Passage, Red Rising by Pierce Brown, and Bone by Jeff Smith. The library is his friend.
Kyle is a graduate of the University of Louisville School of Medicine, from which he received his M.D.
He plans to continue writing as long as he has stories to tell.
You can contact Kyle at thekylealexander@hotmail.com. You can also subscribe to his author newsletter to receive email updates and FREE electronic copies of his Warden of Fál prequel short, The Path of Vengeance, AND his horror/science fiction novella, The Chrononaut, at http://eepurl.com/bsvhYP.
Also by Kyle Alexander Romines
Warden of Fál
The Path of Vengeance (prequel short story)
The Wrath of Lords
The Blood of Kings
The City of Thieves
The Will of Queens
Drone (Science Fiction/Superhero)
The Chrononaut (Science Fiction)
A Sound in the Dark (Thriller)
The Keeper of the Crows (Horror)
Bride (Horror)
Atonement (Western)
To sign up to receive author updates—and receive FREE electronic copies of Kyle’s Warden of Fál prequel short, The Path of Vengeance, AND his science fiction novella, The Chrononaut—go to http://eepurl.com/bsvhYP.