Will was going on, enjoying his role as the wise old seaman imparting his knowledge to a tourist. “Grabbed for him, but it was no use. He warn’t out cold, floating upside down on the crest of a wave. He was swimming hard, following an enormous manta ray into the depths. I hung onto the railing and watched him go. We were at the place where the ocean floor disappears into a bottomless canyon. Drops right off, it does. Even with the storm, I could see the wings of that manta clearly in the moonlight. In all my years at sea, I never saw a ray that size. Not before and not since. Flapping like a great bird winging its way effortlessly through the sky. Except this bird plunged straight down until it disappeared from view – with my brother trailing along in its wake.”
Neill piped in. “I can see the truth in that. Val always was a good swimmer. Mum used to say he was part fish. She even named him for the god of the sea.”
I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice as I asked my next question. “Your mum. Is she still alive?”
Will shot me a suspicious look. “Why’d ye want to know that?”
I improvised. “I’m doing a book of tales about the ocean. I thought your mother might be willing to talk with me. I’ve never heard of a sea god named Val. I’d love to have her tell me about him.”
“She’s been gone these many years. Besides, my brother here is wrong – as usual,” Will replied. “Valdanar warn’t a god. He was as mortal as you or me, but the gods blessed him and made him ruler of the sea. Legend has it he could dwell in its depths among the fishes and command the waves to do his bidding.”
“Valdanar.” Neill lifted his mug, drank deeply, then stared into it as though he might catch a glimpse of the mythical manta in the dregs that remained. “Such a grand name. Not plain and simple, like Will or Neill.” The specter of death hadn’t changed a thing. My younger brother still sounded jealous of me. “A fat lot of good it did him,” he went on. “The sea won. Whether ’twas the rapture or the railing wot did him in, he’s still dead, ain’t he?”
I finished my mug and waved the barmaid over to pay for our drinks. I’d learned what I came to find out. Our mum was dead. There’d be no tearful reunion, no warm hugs.
I’m not sure what I expected to find when I returned to my village. I’d been gone so long I was certain my brothers wouldn’t recognize me, especially since they’d given me up for dead.
The young lad who disappeared in the storm that night had been tall for his age but thin, his face as unlined as that of a babe in arms. I’d grown even taller and put a solid layer of muscle on my frame. I still had the head of black hair, but I wore it longer now, with a shadow of black stubble always present on my jaw. Women seemed to like that. They often said I had the look of a dark pirate.
Somewhere at the back of my mind I think I held onto the hope that someone would know me. If not my siblings, then an old friend. He’d walk by me in the street, give me a friendly nod, as one does to a stranger in these parts, then look closer into my eyes and shout “It’s Val! By the gods, you’re alive!”
He’d clap me on the back, welcome me home at last, and usher me into the pub for a pint where he’d call everyone over to greet me. They’d toast my return and listen with rapt attention to all the adventures I’d had over the years. Goddess knows, I could keep an audience entertained for hours. If they didn’t call me out as a liar.
But my tales of the sea were all true. I’d explored the vast depths of the ocean, seen bizarre creatures and amazing sights. I was rich beyond my wildest dreams, since I had my choice of the spoils from countless shipwrecks I’d discovered beneath the waves. I wore an emerald in my right earlobe, a souvenir from the first wreck I ever found, and an ancient coin from another on a thick gold chain around my neck. Perhaps that was why the ladies often compared me to a pirate.
I felt a touch of sadness when I walked back alone in the darkness to my rented room at the inn. It would have been a comfort to spend the evening sharing memories of the past with my brothers. Laughing about some of the mischief we’d gotten into, shedding a tear together at the loss of our beloved mum. A comfort to me – but a disservice to them. They’d grieved my loss once already. I couldn’t walk back into their lives knowing I’d likely be dead soon enough – this time for real.
Chapter One
Val
I began the next morning as I had nearly every day of my new life – by plunging into the sea.
I left the inn at dawn and headed for the beach. Fog lay over the water, obscuring the shoreline and shrouding the rock-strewn coast in a blanket of filmy white. I tossed my clothes over one of the boulders and strode into the ocean naked as the day I was firstborn.
I kept going until the water reached my waist then jackknifed under the surface. To any other mortal, the water temperature might have been unpleasant but I didn’t even shiver. Though cold and wet, this place was home to me now. Had been for years…ever since that night.
* * *
Come. Come to me.
I couldn’t ignore the voice any longer. It had been beckoning me for weeks, months, whenever I was near the sea. Now, on the eve of my thirteenth birthday, the insistent voice nagged at me day and night. Calling me from underneath the waves.
Come. Come and see the world that can be yours. Riches and wonders beyond belief are here, waiting for you to discover them. Claim them.
The tempest raged, a storm like none I’d ever seen.
I was hanging onto the railing for dear life. My father took one look at my face and laughed.
“Scared? Don’t be, my boy. This old boat has withstood many a storm. The night you were born was a night just like this. The shrimp were running hard, like they do when a cold front blows across the shoals. The wind rose, and the seas got so rough I could barely handle the nets. I stayed out far longer than was wise, temped by thousands of little red eyes bobbing on the waves. More than I’d ever seen before. By the time I got back to port, the tempest was raging.”
“I brought in a record haul, only to find your mum in labor. You weren’t due for weeks, otherwise I’d never have left her alone with a young one to care for. Thank the gods, an old woman had happened by. She’d knocked on the door seeking shelter from the storm, and by the time I arrived, she was wrapping you in a blanket and handing you to your mum.”
I’d heard the story so often, I knew when it was my time to jump in. “What ever happened to the old lady?”
My father shook his head. “I don’t know. She stayed long enough to make us a pot of tea. I settled Will in his bed then sat with you and your mum for a bit. When I went out into the kitchen to thank her, she’d gone. She left us with two things – your name and a tiny shell. Before I got there, she told your mum it was a gift for the baby. ‘He’s to be called Valdanar,’ she said. Mayhap she was a witch because she knew you were a boy before she delivered you. ‘This blue nautilus is for him – to remind him of his rightful home.’ That’s what she told your mum.”
It was the shell that led to my drowning.
I’d been tossed out of the boat by one of the huge waves, hanging on to the outside of the railing by my fingertips. Another wave hit before I could pull myself back in, tearing the shell off my neck and sending it into the sea.
The nautilus was my treasure. My parents said they’d never seen another in that vibrant shade of blue, and neither had anyone else in our village. As a baby, I played with it like a toy. When I was old enough to walk, my mother cut a strip of leather, bored a hole in the shell, and hung it around my neck.
I watched it disappear under the surface – and with a wild cry, I followed it.
A typical boy, I never gave a thought to how I’d get back in the boat, even if I was lucky enough to snatch it before it sank under the waves. Instead, I kicked hard and headed straight down, one arm outstretched.
My brother said I’d followed the manta down, but he was wrong. I never saw the ray until I was far below the surface. And then it was more like a fel
low traveler. One you hook up with because you’re both heading the same way on a long journey.
I don’t know how far I’d gone when I realized I was in trouble. The shell was heading for the bottom faster than I was. Though I was a good swimmer, my lungs were starting to burn.
I stopped. Looked up…and panicked. The surface was so far above my head, I didn’t think I could make it.
That’s when I heard it again. The voice.
Breathe. Go ahead. Open your mouth and take a breath. You survived nine months surrounded by water in your mother’s womb. Your body knows what to do. Trust it. Trust me.
I shook my head wildly. But the manta flapped its massive wings, and the current it produced pulled me down after it. The world started to go dark but still I resisted. I’d grown up around the sea. I knew breathing underwater was impossible.
Damn you, boy, don’t be so stubborn. Breathe!
The voice, usually warm and compelling, hit me like a blow. I gasped, accidentally took in a mouthful of water, and began flailing wildly.
Easy. You can do this. Trust your body. Let it out and breathe in again.
They say drowning is peaceful. I wanted to feel at peace at that moment. To let go of panic and fear. So I did as the bodiless voice bade me. I forced the water out of my lungs and then took in more.
It took a few moments for me to realize I wasn’t dead after all. Somehow, I was still alive, breathing in water instead of air and then pushing it back out again through my nose and mouth.
Far below, I caught sight of something glimmering in the darkness. Silver and purple and blue. I headed for it.
As I drew closer, to my surprise a sunken temple appeared before me. Magnificent stones piled one atop the other formed the walls. Huge round columns held up a domed roof with the center of it open to the sea. Inside the temple, a throne sat directly under the opening, and on it was a female figure.
It was her hair I’d seen glowing in the dark. Shimmering strands of silver intertwined with every shade of purple and blue flowed in waves down her back and over her shoulders, covering her breasts. I looked for a mermaid tail, but she had none. Instead, I saw the legs of a woman, with her feet tucked up under her. She looked up and saw me. Smiled.
I swam through the opening in the dome and down to where her throne sat on a dais with wide stone steps leading up to it on all four sides. I stopped in front of her face, treading water.
“Welcome home, Valdanar,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Waiting? What do you mean welcome home? Who are you? And how are we both still alive?”
Her voice changed. Took on a snarky tone. “Oh, for Goddess’s sake, must you repeat everything I say? First of all, I’ve been waiting years for you to show up. As for who I am, you can simple call me the Oracle.”
A few glowing strands of hair drifted around her face. She pushed them out of her eyes. “Will you please stop thrashing about? You’re kicking up a current.”
It would be years before I set foot on land again.
Chapter Two
Melisandre
At first I thought I was dreaming. Another erotic interlude like the dreams I’d had about Drayke the Dragon Lord and Magnus, my valiant warrior, long before I met either of them.
It was the only way to make sense out of what had happened. I fell asleep between my two dominant lovers in a hidden fortress deep in the heart of Mt. Jarazal. Hours later, while it was still dark, I thought I heard someone call my name. I got out of bed and made my way through the silent halls to the secret door that led to the Oracle’s temple, expecting to see her there on her throne, waiting for me.
Instead I pushed open the door – and stepped barefoot into sand. Ahead, a vast ocean covered the earth, as far as I could see. Waves broke on the rocky shore. They sent fingers of foam spreading nearly to my ankles, like tentacles that threatened to pull me back with them into the sea when the waves receded.
The temple wasn’t there. A layer of wispy fog lay over the water, adding to the dreamlike feel. I turned around to go back, but the door to the fortress had disappeared. All that remained was the blue-gray sea before me, the sky above showing faint rays of dawn breaking through the mist, and the damp sand beneath my feet.
So, when a gorgeous naked man appeared on the crest of a wave and strode out of the water toward me, I smiled. I held out both hands to him, unconcerned about my own nudity. This was a dream, after all.
His head was down, so I couldn’t see his face. He had long black hair, and he ran his fingers through it, pushing the dripping wet locks away from his face. His magnificent body was that of a swimmer – powerful chest and shoulders tapering into a narrow waist and hips. Well-muscled legs and thighs, from kicking through the water for hours on end. His penis hung down between his legs, thick and long.
He caught sight of me, and as his gaze traveled slowly up my body, his cock started to swell. When our eyes met, I gasped. I’d seen this man before.
The Oracle showed him to me long ago, on the night I heard the Prophecy that would determine my fate. The wizard who could whip the ocean into a whirling wall of water with a wave of his hand or command the creatures of the deep to do his bidding.
The third warrior. If what I read in the ancient scrolls is true, he’d been sent by the Goddess to help me defeat the Lord of Darkness.
But first, he must claim me as the others did. Take me to bed and master his queen.
I cannot fight my fate. For if I do, my kingdom may be lost.
Drayke and Magnus will play their roles. If I attempt to defy what the Oracle has foretold, they’ll spank my ass until I agree to submit. Then my dominant lovers will hold me down, spread-eagled on the huge bed in the fortress, while this dark stranger fucks me – until I scream his name in ecstasy.
Coming February 2019
Here’s how it all began -
I learned my fate on my eighteenth birthday. The day I became the virgin Queen.
Find the Fire-born. The Dragon Lord. Mate with him if he commands it, and then seek out the others, one by one.
The Warrior. The Wizard. The Mystic. The Rogue.
I must secure their allegiance using whatever means necessary, whether it be to offer them riches or a title… or my body, and a place by my side on the throne.
The Oracle says only with their help will I accomplish my mission. Avenge my father’s death - and save the World of the Seven Stars from an evil as old as the Universe.
Turn the page for a sneak peek -
“And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet and upon her head a crown of stars
And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon…And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to earth: and the dragon stood before the woman…”
(Rev 12: 1-4)
Prologue
Drayke
She crooked a gnarled finger at me. Beckoning. Beckoning.
I took a hesitant step, then stopped. The soil beneath my feet was hot. As though a river of fire flowed just below the surface.
Wordlessly she bade me come closer.
I glanced around apprehensively. Darkness had swallowed up every landmark around me. No stars lit the night sky. All I could see was the ground beneath my feet, now glowing like the embers from a dying fire, and the shadowy figure perched on a rock in the distance.
She’d called me here. Sending her message over and over, until I was compelled to do as she commanded.
“Claim your destiny.”
First a faint whisper, deep in the recesses of my mind. Then more insistent. Finally, a cacophony of sounds and images disturbing my rest every night.
Tonight, I woke from a sound sleep with her shrill voice echoing in my ears. Left my bed in the middle of the night, drew on my clothes, and climbed out the window. “No one must know,” she’d warned. “See that no
one follows you.”
I took the route she showed me in my dreams. If dreams they were. The interludes were more like private sessions with a cranky sorceress who read the bones to foretell my fate. One who delighted in tormenting me, denying me rest until I did as she commanded.
Leaving the lights of the city behind, I headed for the deep purple mountain that loomed over our homeland. No one ascended to its peak. Over the centuries, strange occurrences had frightened off the curious. Others who ventured there disappeared, never to return. The summit was shrouded in mystery, said to be the dwelling place of ogres and cunning imps. Of strange beasts uttering mournful cries and terrible roars. As a lad, my nurse had me listen for them in the wind that howled down through the pass on dark and stormy nights.
“Do ye hear them? Tis a cursed place,” she’d say. “Filled with demons. Promise me ye’ll never venture there, my lord. No good will come of it.”
Fear gnawed at my belly, but I went on. I was no timid lad. Tomorrow I’d be thirteen. Practically a grown man. It was time to face this night terror. Put it to rest, so I could dream of golden-haired maidens on the eves to come.
I marched on, humming under my breath. A fight song, though why they called it that was a mystery to me. I doubted our warriors crooned catchy tunes when marching into battle and I was quite certain they didn’t break into song as they lopped off the heads of their enemies. In truth, it should have been called a drinking song. One the old men belted out as they clanked mugs in the tavern, swapping lies of their exploits when they were valiant and virile. All the same, I found a scrap of courage in the stirring melody
Chaos Born: A Sci-Fi Menage Romance (Warriors of the Seven Stars Book 2) Page 13