Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  There were less than twenty boats bobbing in the water, with two or three Twileans sitting inside each.

  “And so few of the Island Protectorate are left,” Deputy Mayor Galath stated. “We’ve left you with a majority of amateurs.”

  “Look after my daughter.” Mayor Kellig started back to the manor.

  “I had to lock Kula and Clayd in their room to stop them from joining you,” the Deputy Mayor said. “May Her light point you true.” And he followed after the Mayor.

  “Some allies,” Doren grumbled to himself. They’d stay behind as their own people sacrificed themselves, even as they noted how few they had left to fight. Maybe they had yet to truly comprehend that if Neanthal won, all of Ghumai would suffer. They could only avoid the war for so long.

  Doren dragged himself towards the water. He was the last one on the shore, but they all seemed to be waiting for him to join them. Not a single rower had started their way to Kytheras.

  He waded through the shallow sea and made his way to M’dalla and Azzer. Once he climbed into their canoe, the other boats began the journey.

  Azzer stuck his staff into the water and the canoe propelled itself forward without the need of paddles. There was a time Doren would’ve been impressed with such a feat, but after seeing the technological wonders of Belliore, with mechcars that could fly without the aid of magic, this seemed rather trite.

  “It is strange to be doing this again,” M’dalla said. “Do you know how we crossed the seas when King Shine invaded Kytheras?”

  Doren couldn’t recall the specifics and shook his head.

  “Amelia froze the seas and we all walked across them,” she said. “There was no need for boats.” Despite the statement, M’dalla appeared to be enjoying the rough breeze and salty air.

  “Not something worth trying again,” Azzer added. “Neanthal might expect it.”

  “And you don’t have Amelia’s abilities.”

  Azzer gave her an agreeable shrug.

  Though they were steered by magic, their boat was not in the lead. The Twilean rowers were better than capable and kept a steady pace as they moved in on the mainland.

  Doren occasionally dipped the tips of his fingers into the water, even as his sights never left his former home. Smoke poured from Castle Tornis’ frame, concealing much of the nine-story behemoth. But he noticed the docks as they got closer. He only knew them to stretch out into a desert, but now they reached back into the Unending Seas. Some couldn’t handle the reintroduction and had already collapsed. Those that remained were propping up some sort of black velizard.

  “Massku!” Azzer and M’dalla shouted in unison.

  M’hadder stood up from his boat and raised a hand skyward. All of the rowers ceased, and Azzer lifted his staff from the ocean.

  “Light ‘em up!” M’hadder demanded.

  About five archers lit their arrows on fire and nocked them into their bows.

  As M’hadder pointed toward the docks, the flaming arrows took to the air and struck the Massku.

  The demibeasts howled as their brethren fell and the docks caught fire.

  Doren was too close to sit and wait for archers to clear the landing site. He had to know if Rikki and Aros were okay.

  “Meet me over there.” Doren launched himself from the boat and spun in midair.

  After shifting and landing on an untarnished dock, Doren flipped his shield off his back and slammed it into the snout of an oncoming demibeast.

  As one went down, another pounced at him. Doren slapped it sideways. Another, he sidestepped, and it landed in the water.

  One demibeast latched onto his leg, but he pummeled it so hard with his shield that it burst into black smoke.

  Azzer and M’dalla were the first to reach him. Azzer took control of the nearby flames and devoured several Massku with the bright orange mass.

  M’dalla swung her flail into demibeast skulls, clearing out the space around her. But as they grew fearful of her weapon, more went after Doren.

  If the demibeasts thought they would fare better against the bronze shield, they were mistaken. Not one more was able to sink their teeth into him, though one did try to bite onto his shield. That one lost its entire jaw.

  The demibeasts backed away just as another Massku joined the fight. This one walked on two legs, with armor thicker than any Doren had imagined, and spikes jutting out at odd angles from its shoulders and limbs.

  “Ifta?” Azzer asked.

  “Impossible.” M’dalla whirled her flail into its chest. The strike appeared to have no effect on it, and it swung its massive sword in the Roamer’s direction.

  Sensing weakness, the demibeasts moved in again, but they were met by a legion of Twileans coming onshore.

  Eloise Kellig cut through several demibeasts with her halberd as she advanced, while M’hadder pointed in the direction for his archers to fire.

  A parade of Twileans struck out at the Massku, slicing away with a variety of swords and daggers.

  Meanwhile, Azzer rammed his staff into the plated Massku’s chest, and the creature fell onto its back and appeared unable to get back up.

  M’dalla kicked the sword out from its possession before bending down and trying to pull the helmet off its head.

  The remaining demibeasts started to retreat as an explosion shook the ground beneath them. Another dock fell into the water, bringing with it a couple of Twileans that swiftly recovered and climbed into a nearby boat.

  M’dalla fell back as she finally removed the Massku’s helmet. She tossed it aside and crawled up to get a look at the creature’s face.

  “Not Ifta,” M’dalla murmured.

  Doren closed in on the plated to get a better look, but what he saw shook him worse than the recent explosion.

  It had skin that was at once like shadow, but slimy and scaly as well. Its eyes were like red beads planted into its head, but it did not have a normal nose or mouth. Instead, it had a snout; one that had been transplanted from the very demibeasts they had just faced. Its pointed ears matched theirs, too. But unlike the other Massku, this one stood on two legs.

  “What abomination has Neanthal created?” Azzer stated.

  Eloise approached them, but as she spotted what they were looking at, she swung her halberd into the middle of the creature’s face.

  “Why were you all staring at it?” Eloise asked.

  Doren knew why he was. Out of all the kingdoms he’d been to and animals he’d encountered, none were fashioned by a demigod in the image of man. It was grotesque.

  “When Neanthal first came to Ghumai, he brought with him the Ifta,” M’dalla said. “They were another race from parts unknown. But he coated them in armor like this and they fought for him. Some, however, changed sides.”

  Doren had known a descendent of the Ifta she spoke of. Leidess.

  “He did not bring these with him,” Azzer said. “He made these—these—bipedal monsters.”

  “We can’t count on turncoats this time,” M’dalla sighed.

  M’hadder limped towards them, accompanied by what remained of his Island Protectorate. “Are y’all gonna stop gawking and get on with the fighting?”

  “Fight who?” Azzer replied. The demibeasts had all retreated, and no other plated were in sight.

  “Ehh.” M’hadder gawked in each direction, as if he couldn’t quite believe the battle had ended already.

  Doren wasn’t sure if it was a true victory or a feint, but in either case, they had to go to Castle Tornis. Depending on who they found there, they would know whether the conflict had reached its end.

  “You all need to follow me, now,” Doren said.

  “Is that right?” M’hadder asked, putting a hand to his hip. “And where exactly do you plan on taking us?”

  “Home,” Doren muttered.

  And as he made his way along a path that he knew by heart, M’dalla and Azzer instinctually followed. The rest of the Twilean volunteers hurried after them, with M’hadder limping al
ong at the very rear of the pack.

  The closer he got to Castle Tornis, the more confused Doren became. He did not find dead men clogging the streets. Yes, there were corpses, but they were of Massku. Accompanying them were shards of metal; wiring that had been pulled from its casing. It was only when he spotted a nearly whole chrome man impaled on a Massku blade that he realized what had occurred. Bellish peacekeepers had invaded Kytheras.

  “What is that?” one of the Twileans demanded.

  Torn metal limbs were everywhere. Naturally, they couldn’t understand; not until they’d seen Belliore itself.

  Doren didn’t bother trying to explain. As long as the automatons remained lifeless, there was no reason to.

  Eloise sidled up to him. “What are they?” she whispered, like it was a secret he couldn’t share.

  “Bellish technology,” M’dalla answered. “Seems they got a head start on you, Doren.”

  Doren glared at her, annoyed that she said what was so obviously the truth. He was late to a battle he hadn’t been invited to. His appearance here was inessential. The invaders hadn’t counted on any ancillary support.

  “But did they defeat Neanthal?” Azzer wondered aloud.

  The Twilean convoy stopped on the fringes of Tornis Square. From their vantage point, not only could they behold the piles of dead Massku and peacekeepers throughout the square, but they could see the AGTs hovering through the sky.

  One absentmindedly fired an arrow at the vehicles, but the Bellish did not retaliate.

  “Hold yer fire!” M’hadder ordered as he made it to Doren’s side. “What are those things?”

  “Bellish technology,” Eloise stated, as if she’d always known.

  “Technology that does what?” He looked from Eloise, to Doren, to the Roamers, for an answer.

  Doren was too distracted to provide one. An AGT was encroaching on them. As it descended to street-level, Doren could only guess at who would emerge. Versil? Lestrapel? Another of the Directorate?

  His chest seemed to cave in as the sole occupant of the AGT stepped out. He spotted the magenta hair first, followed by the silver cloak and the glint of her staff.

  Doren abandoned his comrades as he ran to his girlfriend. But she held out an arm to keep him back. Her eyes were watery and her cheeks were already stained with tears.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Rikki stuttered.

  It took him a moment as he stared at her to figure out just what she was apologizing for. Then he spun his head in every direction. “This is because of you?”

  Rikki nodded. “I wanted to keep you safe. And Aros. I thought we could take him.”

  “Did you?” he asked. There was no sign of Neanthal in the vicinity.

  “We drove him from Kytheras,” she answered. “But he’s alive. And Versil isn’t.”

  Doren finally got past her outstretched arm and took her into a hug. So this plan of hers had cost her an ally? It made sense she was upset. But he still didn’t understand one thing.

  As he broke their embrace, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Rikki couldn’t meet his eyes as she answered. “You’re not a mage. And neither is Aros. You remember what happened to Aergo when he took on Neanthal. I couldn’t let that happen again.”

  “We’re in this together,” Doren reminded her.

  “But we’re not!” she exclaimed. “He’s only free because I failed. It’s my responsibility to set this right. I’m the only one left with magic. It has to be me.”

  “I should take offense,” Azzer said as he and M’dalla approached.

  Rikki’s eyes bulged as she saw them. “I didn’t mean…”

  “To be mean?” he said, slightly amused.

  “You clearly know you can’t do it alone, Rikki,” Doren said. “Why else ask the Bellish for help?”

  “I know I can’t,” Rikki replied. “But losing a peacekeeper and losing the love of my life are very different things.”

  Doren grabbed hold of her free hand. “It has to be us. It was meant to be us.”

  “And us,” M’dalla said, reminding them she was standing right there.

  “I had to try,” Rikki said as she glanced over everyone that had arrived with her boyfriend. “Who are they? And where’s Aros?”

  “He’s not here?” Doren asked, becoming panicked for a second before he and Rikki both said, “Loraya.”

  “He must still be trying to convince her to help,” Rikki stated.

  Doren shot her a puzzled look. “She didn’t want to help?” He would’ve bet gems that Loraya would’ve insisted on joining their alliance. Then again, he thought the same of Simma.

  “She felt attached to certain obligations in Terrastream,” Rikki said.

  “We’re here in her stead,” M’dalla stated.

  “And because we have certain obligations as well,” Azzer added.

  M’hadder finally staggered over to them, with Eloise making sure to keep him upright as he went. “Do you just want us to stand around here?”

  “Twileans,” Rikki said, answering her previous question. “Good to see you again, M’hadder.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he brushed off her greeting.

  “We’ll take up residence in the castle for now,” Doren said. “But the war’s not over.”

  “Good. I didn’t row my way over here for nothing.” M’hadder pointed toward Castle Tornis and the Twileans headed through the nearby gate.

  “What happed in Faunli?” Rikki asked.

  “Simma’s brothers tried to kill me,” Doren stated.

  Rikki burst out laughing. “I guess they were still upset.”

  “They’re not anymore.”

  “Oh?”

  “Accidently killed them,” Doren said.

  It was M’dalla’s turn to laugh. “Can’t say I’ve ever accidently killed someone.”

  “I didn’t know it was them,” Doren protested. “They came at me in the night.”

  “Where did that leave you with Simma?” Rikki inquired.

  “I wouldn’t count on them,” Doren said. He suspected the Empress would hold a grudge, even though he was only reacting to her brothers’ assassination attempt.

  “If Loraya won’t be joining us with whatever remains of the Revolutionaries, and Simma won’t summon her army to help, that means…” Rikki gaped at the Twileans as they shuffled into Castle Tornis. “They’re the only ones coming to our aid.”

  “Better treat us nice,” Eloise said with a wink. She took M’hadder’s hand and dragged him toward the castle.

  “How many peacekeepers are left?” M’dalla asked.

  “Not enough,” Rikki said.

  Doren wasn’t going to say it aloud, but he knew that a Ghumai that refused to unite to take on Neanthal would be one that only succumbed to him in the future. This was bigger than personal animosities or goals. Everything else was secondary to defeating the Beast.

  “We’ll put out a call for Kytheran volunteers,” Doren stated. It was the only possibility he could conceive of that would increase their numbers.

  “Hopefully there will be more than what came from the Islands,” Azzer remarked.

  Doren latched his fingers between Rikki’s. “There will be,” he said without any actual certainty. They might answer their Prince, or they might completely ignore him. His message would have to be dire. And even then, he was not sure if Kytheras had become too soft in its centuries of peace.

  Together, he and Rikki followed their only remaining allies to the entrance of Castle Tornis. They paused just outside the doorway, staring into the dark stone corridors within. The last time they’d entered, it had been a trap. And yet, somehow, that was not the worst memory they had of this place.

  They looked into each other’s eyes, and it seemed as if they wanted to say something. But they both swallowed their words before taking a step forward and entering the castle that had once been both home and prison.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Dungeons

&n
bsp; Having been imprisoned within Castle Tornis for nineteen years, Rikki Nasem had explored nearly every inch of the nine-story, multi-block structure. It had taken less time to see all of it than the average Kytheran might assume, and the insides were less fascinating than their imaginations might build up. But having little to do, Rikki spent many hours of her life staring at the same paintings and artifacts that decorated the black interior. There was one place she didn’t visit twice, however. After seeing it once, she never desired to go back.

  It had been over a decade since Rikki had climbed down the dimly lit stairway that led to the castle dungeons. Her first time down there had been her only time, and because of the visible horrors and repugnant smells, she had intentionally avoided them for the rest of her stay.

  But in recent decks, the dungeon had not been used for its intended person. Though they usually kept the criminally dangerous away from the rest of society, Neanthal had perverted them into a storage space for political prisoners. Any that remained loyal to King Halstrom or the Tunsev lineage had disappeared from their lives and been detained in the bowels of the castle. Unfortunately, it was not the first time a king had abused such authority.

  Kytheran history had its share of awful kings, including several descendants of Aergo, who had chosen to misuse the dungeons and imprison adversaries instead of criminals. It was not until King Gravia that a new system was implemented to prevent such exploits. The High Council was to be consulted on every detainee, and a single objection among them could result in their immediate release. Neanthal had avoided this complication by imprisoning the entire High Council.

  Rikki kept her channeling crystals aglow as they reached the landing. There were no windows in the dungeons, only the occasional torch that hardly even lit the way between cells. Most of the inhabitants were kept behind locked doors, with only a small caged hole to let them see out of. The lucky few only had bars to keep them detained. But no matter their location, the stench was ever-present and overwhelming. It was more vile than Grimemound and the sewers beneath the city, and she did her best to keep from gagging as the foul air entered her orifices.