Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  “King Doren,” Mayor Kellig acknowledged him.

  Doren’s arms shot forward. “Whoa, whoa. Please do not.”

  “Ghumai has been united,” Hunner Galath reminded him. “We uphold our oath to serve the rightful King of Ghumai. That would be the heir of Aergo Tunsev. You.”

  Doren pulled at the hair around his ears. “Just call me Prince,” he begged. There was only one king of Ghumai right now, and that was Neanthal. He refused to think about what life might become for him after that.

  “Prince King Doren,” Eloise teased, taking a seat.

  “Are you really king?” Clayd asked, emerging from beneath the table where he’d been playing with Deerie and Wolfie.

  “Has there been a coronation?” Kula inquired.

  Doren shook his head.

  “Then he is not king,” she stated.

  Technically, Kula was correct, though he couldn’t imagine that there’d been a coronation for Neanthal. That hadn’t stopped him from taking the title.

  As Doren took a seat, he found it hard to believe that any of these Twileans thought he’d make a suitable king. He never wanted to be one, but the days of arguing about it with his father were over.

  “Just under fifty,” Mayor Kellig stated. “That’s all the able men and boats we have to offer you.”

  A plate filled with colorful slices from fruits he’d never eaten was placed in front of him. He didn’t have an appetite, though. His missing friends had already triggered a bout of nausea, and considering the extra responsibilities that might become his took away any smidgen of hunger that might’ve remained.

  Still, wasn’t he acting as king already by negotiating and planning with the Twileans?

  He looked away from the food he didn’t want to eat and at his host. “After what you’ve been through, we appreciate any volunteers that might join our alliance. If he sends the bulk of his forces to meet us at the border, he’s left a vulnerable position that we may exploit.”

  “Kwee kwee!” Mr. Kwee seemed to concur as he hung from the chandelier.

  “Funny that we should be planning another assault on Kytheras from this house,” Hunner said. “King Shine did the same during the Dark Reign.”

  The remark reminded Doren of a question he’d thought to ask on his initial inspection of Tunsev Manor. “Do you use this table often? It was covered in dust when I first stopped by.”

  “Only when the guests are plentiful and the room is scarce,” the Mayor answered.

  “I see you started without me,” M’hadder grumbled, joining them at the table.

  “We weren’t waiting,” Eloise replied. “Or wanting.”

  “At least I showed, unlike the King’s friends,” he retorted.

  “Please stop calling me that,” Doren whined. He lifted a slice of fruit to his lips but couldn’t compel himself to take a bite. Rikki. Aros. He couldn’t wait for them another day. If they didn’t show up within hours, he was going to start searching for them.

  “Did you forget how to eat?” M’hadder asked, eyeing him.

  Doren finally forced the fruit into his mouth.

  “I’d only expect that of you,” Eloise shot back.

  “If you weren’t the Mayor’s daughter…” he growled.

  “You know I can take you,” Eloise said.

  “Only ‘cause I lost my leg,” he replied.

  “I could do it before that as well.”

  “Will you be joining the volunteers, M’hadder?” Hunner interrupted.

  He finished slurping on a cut of raw fish before answering. “I ain’t letting anyone go into battle without me.”

  “Try some gull egg,” Eloise insisted, putting it atop the fruit Doren had yet to eat.

  Doren gazed at the food, knowing how rude it was to waste it put unsure how exactly he was supposed to finish it.

  “When do you expect to begin the assault?” Mayor Kellig asked.

  He and his friends hadn’t agreed on a timeframe. They first had to know who would join them. Right now, Doren only knew that he had fifty Twileans on his side. That was not exactly the kind of numbers that could match Neanthal’s own army.

  “Before the deck is out,” Doren replied. That was the best he could estimate. They’d already given Neanthal too much time to prepare for what was coming. He’d be expecting them, assuming he hadn’t dispatched of Rikki and Aros already.

  Doren shoved a piece of the egg into his mouth, trying to distract himself from the grim thoughts.

  “I’m going, too,” Eloise revealed.

  “Excuse me?” her father said from the head of the table.

  “Someone’s gotta look out for old one-leg, here,” she said, pointing a thumb at M’hadder.

  Her father’s dead-eyed stare said more than any words could.

  “We both made it through the frost urchins. Are you going to doubt me, now?”

  “She’s capable,” M’hadder said, still chewing.

  “Can I go, too?” Clayd asked, poking his head out from beneath the table again.

  “Certainly not,” Kula replied.

  The miwolf started yipping for Clayd’s attention.

  Twilean breakfast seemed to last until noon, and in respect to his hosts, Doren remained seated and eventually managed to finish everything on his plate. Talk ranged from debates about strategy to historically recalling what King Shine had done when he’d lived in Tunsev Manor. Doren mostly listened, rarely interjecting with his own opinion. Plus, his mind and heart were elsewhere.

  Household servants eventually cleared the table, and the gathering broke apart and everyone returned to their business.

  Doren’s reasons for being there were dwindling. He was only there to wait for the others, but he’d already gotten a battalion of Twileans to join the alliance.

  As he mindlessly roamed the first floor, he decided he was done waiting. It was time to find out what had happened to his friends.

  “Eloise!” Doren called out. He wasn’t going to leave without letting his hosts know.

  When she didn’t answer, he started to climb the stairs.

  “There you are!” Eloise exclaimed, running down the stairs towards him.

  Had she been looking for him?

  “We have visitors!” she announced, grabbing his hand as she passed him and tugging him back downstairs.

  “Where?” Doren asked. He hadn’t spotted anyone on the first floor.

  Eloise pulled open the front door and led him onto the wooden porch outside.

  There were two guests leaning against the banister. Doren’s heart rose in his chest before he caught sight of what they were wearing. One was in golden Bellish armor, and the other wore layers of blue that matched his hair and lips.

  “M’dalla? Azzer?” Why were those two here and not Aros and Rikki?

  “Aros told us to meet you here,” M’dalla said. “We hope we’re not late.”

  “Aros isn’t even here yet,” Doren sighed.

  “Then I guess we’re on—”

  An explosion rippled through the waters and shattered the island’s tranquility.

  All of them rushed to the water’s edge, searching for the source of the calamity. Their eyes eventually beheld Kytheras on the other side of the sea, and they instantly knew the origination of the sound.

  Castle Tornis was on fire.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bellish Invasion

  A stiff neck and a bit of dried-up drool on her chin were the only indications that Rikki had fallen asleep. Otherwise, everything was exactly as it had been the last time she’d opened her eyes.

  She was sitting in the corner of Versil’s office, waiting as the former Project Head worked to fix whatever he’d done to the peacekeeper master control. His fingers were going wild as he poked and swiped on a succession of images that appeared in front of him.

  “How long have you been going?” she asked after letting out a yawn.

  “Hours,” he succinctly answered.

  “An
d you haven’t undone the…reconfiguration?”

  “That was the simple part,” Versil said. “I’ve been updating their programming for warfare and coordinating weapons distribution. The peacekeepers weren’t designed to be an army, you know.”

  Given how well they’d done in combat on their initial visit to Belliore, she would’ve supposed differently. But she wasn’t about to contradict Versil.

  Rikki hopped out of her seat, suddenly realizing just how much time she’d spent in his laboratory. They had none to waste as Neanthal sat on the throne of Kytheras, and there was still too much left to do before they could stage an effective coup.

  “What is the hour?” Rikki asked.

  “EDat?” Versil said, his fingers hard at work.

  “It is the sixth hour of the day, forty minutes until dawn,” the eDat answered.

  “There you are,” Versil stated.

  Rikki touched her staff to the ground and considered what her next act should be. She still didn’t know where Aros had gone off to and why he hadn’t shown up when her light summoned him. Had he shifted to the wrong place? Become entrapped by stone spiders? Or had he gone back to Loraya when he lost track of her?

  And what of Doren? It was likely he’d been waiting at Tunsev Manor, since getting Empress Simma’s cooperation was mostly a formality. Should she go check on him?

  The three of them had to reunite before they set siege to Castle Tornis. They would still have to orchestrate the attack on Neanthal amongst all the kingdoms. It could take much longer to plan something of such a scale. Would they all invade simultaneously? Should it be a multi-stage attack? Details needed to be worked out amongst leaders that might disagree. It could take half a deck to figure it all out.

  All the while, Neanthal would be making his own plans, and perhaps interfering in theirs as well. The more time they gave him, the less chance of victory they had.

  “When do you think the peacekeepers will be ready?” Rikki asked, an idea coming to mind.

  “I can estimate two hours until all weapons are fully distributed,” Versil answered. “I’ll have the final programming done within minutes.”

  “And how long would it take to get the peacekeepers to Kytheras?”

  “If we use the AGTs, no time at all.”

  Rikki tapped the tips of her fingers against her staff. She didn’t like what she was considering, but the notion that it was the only viable option continued to grow.

  What if she didn’t meet up with Aros and Doren? The two of them had proven their worth in battle, but Neanthal was a different beast entirely. Going up against him was almost like a form of self-sacrifice. King Aergo himself had died in combat against the Corruption. The only ones to duel him and live were Amelia and Hatswick, both mages. It took magic to even stand a chance against a demigod.

  Had Neanthal chosen to confront one of them instead of her, their trio might already be down to a duo. But as far as she knew, he had not. Aros would have surely mentioned it to her if he’d shown up. And Neanthal would have bragged about what he did to Doren if he’d met him.

  They would be furious with her. She knew that. But if she could accomplish this feat without them, they would be alive. Safe. She was only putting herself at risk.

  It wasn’t fair to do this without consulting them. But it was right. It felt right.

  Rikki would take the peacekeepers, the largest army in Ghumai, and strike Neanthal before he’d even realize it was coming. He wouldn’t get word of any armies gathering. He wouldn’t know it was happening until the AGTs occupied the Kytheran sky. Success meant her friends and allies would make it through this new Dark Reign unharmed. Failure meant only regrouping with the others. Unless he took her life. In which case, there would still be hope. Aros and Doren would lead the next battle.

  This was the best way to do this. Though she felt guilty about her methods, she was convinced. No one would be harmed this way except for her and some automatons.

  She knew this would cause another dispute with Doren, especially after what had happened in Terrastream. However, this time she was not intending to take on a king alone. She’d have help. Just not his. But they would get past it because they loved each other. And she was doing this because she loved him. She had the opportunity to keep him from harm. How could she not take it?

  At least Aros was not as inclined to squabble with her.

  “Have AGTs prepared to take the peacekeepers to Kytheras as soon as you can,” Rikki requested.

  Versil finally went still as he turned his head toward her. “Not waiting for the others, are we?”

  She looked into his ancient red eyes. “We’re not.”

  “I can respect that,” he said, resuming his motions. “Get ready, Grand Mage. You’ll be back home by noon.”

  Ten thousand peacekeepers. Several thousand AGTs. All of them departing Belliore and heading for Castle Tornis.

  It felt empty within the anti-gravity transport, even though she wasn’t technically alone.

  Versil was there, though his presence within the AGT was purely virtual. Whenever Rikki glanced outside to get a better look at her location, she saw Versil’s red eyes staring back. His whole face occupied the main window, though fortunately it was semi-transparent.

  There was also a squadron of ten peacekeepers, all standing completely still, packed in with her. Their featureless silver faces displayed no apprehension over the coming battle. There was no shudder in their arms; no hint that anything unusual was about to occur. Rikki figured they had no emotions, and she wondered if that would make them more or less effective fighters. They didn’t have nerves to interfere with their mission, but they also lacked any drive to achieve their goal. All that was guiding them was Versil’s programming, not any passion.

  “Do you think I’ve made a mistake?” Rikki asked Versil’s giant head.

  “Having second thoughts?” he replied. “I can turn them all around if you’d like.”

  Rikki took another gander at the bland metal troops. Some of them had oddly shaped weaponry in their grasps, while others had swords and shields.

  She didn’t know how effective these peacekeepers would be, but she knew she had enough of them. It was about numbers, after all, and she only needed more than Neanthal had. And given what she had seen on her last trip to Kytheras, he was still lacking. Though since then, they’d given him time to make up what he might require.

  Doren and Aros should’ve been by her side. She should’ve at least told them what she was planning. But it was too late for that now. Behind Versil’s façade, she could distinguish the outline of Castle Tornis towering over the rest of Kytheras. She was stuck with her initial decision. No time for regrets.

  “We keep going,” she insisted.

  Versil smiled at her. “Two minutes until we reach the target and begin deployment.” A set of numbers appeared over the middle of his face, all of them counting down.

  “Point me true,” Rikki prayed, clutching her chest. As Versil had instructed his peacekeepers, so did Rikki feel that the Goddess was instructing her. This wasn’t solely her idea. Magenine wanted it this way.

  All the numbers across Versil’s face turned to zero, and they flashed multiple times before disappearing entirely.

  “Opening transport doors. Prepare for deployment.”

  The door on Rikki’s AGT slid open, as she imagined it did for every other vehicle occupying the Kytheran sky.

  “Let them lead the attack,” Versil stated.

  Rikki nodded. If Neanthal had a surprise waiting for them, it was better that the peacekeepers took the brunt of it. No lives would be lost. That’s what this invasion was about.

  “Deployment initiated.”

  The peacekeepers at the back of her transport sprang to life and began marching for the exit. They jumped from the AGT two at a time, landing perfectly on the streets that were tens of feet below.

  Once all had left the vehicle, Rikki peeked out from the vehicle door. Peacekeepers were
falling from the sky, touching down on the deserted streets surrounding Castle Tornis. Around the metallic vehicles, she could make out silver spheres zigzagging through the air.

  “Those orbs are yours?” Rikki checked.

  “For monitoring and data collection,” Versil acknowledged. “Take a look.”

  Versil’s face disappeared, replaced by moving images of the unfolding deployment of peacekeepers.

  There was no reaction from Castle Tornis as the peacekeepers approached. Sand filled the air as their metal feet kicked it up from the cobblestone streets. They filled up the alleyways. They filled up Tornis Square. But when they reached the black stone walls, they went no further. None of them penetrated the castle or made any attempt to go inside.

  “What are they waiting for?” Rikki demanded, tightening her hand on her staff and preparing to head inside herself.

  “There are no targets,” Versil responded. “This is too easy.”

  While they waited for a reaction, the black stone of Castle Tornis began to tremble. Gooey black blobs started growing on its exterior, stretching out and taking shape. Four limbs emerged, then a torso, and then a head. Their claws grew as sharp as any blade. The teeth that developed beneath their rounded snouts were equally as deadly. Red ink bubbled up around their fiery eyes and formed an upside-down pyramid colliding into a cracked heart. Only their tails appeared stunted, becoming little more than a lump on their backsides.

  Rikki knew what they were. She’d seen drawings in her history books. “Massku.”

  “We brought something for those,” Versil spoke.

  As the demibeasts ran down the walls of the castle and toward their opponents, the peacekeepers took aim with their Bellish weaponry. Beams of white light collided against the ramparts. Streams of flame enveloped the newly formed Massku. Metal boomerangs impaled heads and torsos. Shoulder-mounted weapons seemed to shatter the very air, raining down shards of black and white glass from wherever the peacekeeper targeted.

  “Neanthal will have to do better than that,” Versil said.

  Castle Tornis was lost behind the bombardment, as long-range weaponry took out most of the demibeasts before they even made it to the ground. Blinding light, fire, the occasional bubbles, and sprays of needles did a better job of enveloping the castle than the scores of demibeast running down its walls.