Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  Doren began coughing right away. He spit and shook his hair in an attempt to get the horrid smells away from him.

  Rikki moved her staff closer to his face. “I can do this alone.”

  Doren pushed her staff away and shook his head. He didn’t speak, for fear of letting that odor enter his mouth.

  As they proceeded into the depths of the dungeon, Rikki noted how much quieter it was than on her first visit. She still remembered the never-ending screams and the cracking voices of desperate men calling out to her. And the blood. She remembered the red stains running from floor to ceiling. The place appeared to have been cleaned since then, as wherever she moved her light, there was no sign of human innards.

  Doren peeked into the cells as they passed, checking the scroll he’d brought to make sure the prisoners corresponded to it. Neanthal had not updated the records with his detainees, so anyone he’d sent into the dungeon would stand out.

  Rikki looked into one of the cells. Within, she spotted a ragged man tucked into a corner. He didn’t seem to notice her or the light that she brought. But the walls were immaculate and the man was clearly not left to starve.

  “I was expecting worse.”

  “Keeping the dungeons clean became a priority during and after the plague,” Doren whispered as he joined her in gazing at the prisoner. “And yet the Outer was never discussed, even then.” He sighed and they both backed away from the cell.

  “We can fix it now,” Rikki said as they proceeded.

  “We?”

  “It can be your priority and I can use my magic,” she suggested. Together, they could set right much of which had been wrong in their younger years, when they could only watch.

  “I think we have a more pressing matter,” Doren reminded her.

  She didn’t want to think about Neanthal. They would do enough of that in the coming hours and days. She wanted to imagine what their lives would be like once they were rid of him. It would give them both something to look forward to.

  Maybe Doren didn’t want to think about that. He had spent his whole life trying to avoid becoming king. Did he still intend to abdicate?

  Rikki was Grand Mage and the only Kytheran mage left. She no longer had any ambition to escape, but instead felt obligated by her new responsibilities. Doren would stay if she chose to stay, wouldn’t he?

  “What happens if we win?” Rikki asked, expecting to bring up her intended inquiry.

  Doren pulled his face away from the scroll and glanced at her while forming a nauseous look. He knew exactly what she was getting at and was not ready to discuss any of it out loud.

  “Well?” she asked.

  Doren held up a finger and then touched his ear.

  As she listened closely, she could hear the faint murmur of voices.

  They both hurried down the corridor while the chorus of voices seemed to grow. Rikki launched balls of light into the air to better illuminate their path forward, and their appearance only caused the conversations to get even louder.

  Neanthal’s prisoners had not been locked behind doors, but instead packed into several adjacent cages. Rikki counted nearly thirty guardians at first glance, some of them in their skivvies, others still wearing the light black armor and curved helmets that left their faces exposed.

  “My liege!” one of them shouted, recognizing Doren.

  “It’s the troublemaker!” another cried out, pointing at Rikki.

  Rikki grinned as she recalled her reputation within the castle. With a wave of her staff, the bars swung open and allowed the guardians to shuffle out of their cramped spaces.

  “My father is dead,” Doren told them, unsure whether they were aware. “We are at war. Sort yourselves out upstairs but prepare for the coming battle.”

  They saluted and nodded as they scurried for the dungeon’s exit.

  “Don’t forget us,” an old woman croaked.

  Rikki and Doren moved on to another cell, this one containing only five individuals. Doren recognized them all.

  “Wilma. Saunders. Kelvin. Orlan. Alphonse.” As he said their names, his face twisted into a look of revulsion. Neanthal had left his father’s High Council alive and in better condition than the guardians. Their outfits were unblemished and their eyes showed not a hint of starvation.

  As Rikki raised her staff into position, Doren gently pushed it back towards the ground.

  “We can’t leave them,” Rikki stated.

  Doren was not convinced of that. All five councilors had failed his father and Kytheras time and time again. Not one showed genuine concern for the Outer or the poor people that lived there. Instead, they had turned it into a joke. None of them acted when rumors of a Thalian comeback threatened the Celebration, and all had failed to recognized the threat that Hatswick posed. Their advice had been self-serving, and they had all placed their needs above that of the kingdom. He could not think of a better place to leave them than the castle dungeons.

  “Mercy!” Alphonse begged.

  “Your father would never,” Orlan said.

  “And how long did it take any of you to figure out that King Halstrom was dead and Neanthal had taken his place?” Doren asked. “Did any of you realize before he sent you here?”

  “It was Neanthal?” Saunders asked, having never caught on.

  “He didn’t say,” Kelvin stated in an attempted defense.

  “And how many of you left the Outerlings to suffer while you made jokes?” Doren went on.

  “They are a joke,” Kelvin replied. “They choose to live out there in that filth.”

  “Are you sure?” Doren responded. “When’s the last time you spoke with one?”

  “King Fogg the Third offered them refuge in exchange for naming Thalians,” Saunders remarked. “None took him up on that offer.”

  “That makes them wiser than your predecessors,” Doren said.

  “Are you defending King Fogg the Third?” Rikki inquired, clearly offended.

  Saunders grimaced before mumbling, “I did not mean…”

  “Keeping us detained because of personal animosity is a violation of Gravira’s decree,” Wilma reminded him.

  Doren was ready to keep arguing and suggest that they might have knowingly aided Neanthal. Finding them imprisoned was the best surprise since his return to Kytheras. But he knew it was his personal feelings that would have seen their detention continue, and that was indeed a violation of the longstanding decree. He’d always hated them and their meetings, but they were not his enemies.

  “We’ll let you out,” Doren finally conceded. As Rikki used her magic to unlock the door, he added, “But you’re all hereby discharged from serving on the High Council.”

  All of their mouths simultaneously dropped, and they stood inside their cell even as the way out was made available.

  Doren urged Rikki to follow him and they left the scene before any of the councilors had taken a single step.

  “I think they would’ve rather stay detained,” Rikki noted with a laugh.

  “I never thought I’d actually be able to do that,” Doren replied. “Always figured we’d run away before I got the chance.” He stopped in his place. “We’re not going to run away anymore, are we?”

  Rikki shook her head.

  “It almost makes me want Neanthal to win,” he sighed.

  Rikki glowered at him.

  “I said almost!” he countered. Part of him still did not want to be king, but the urge to stay with Rikki was even greater than that. And if she stayed in Castle Tornis and accepted her new responsibilities, so would he, even if the thought made him queasy.

  Rikki took off, leaving Doren to catch up.

  “Where are you going now?” he asked, hoping she realized he didn’t actually want Neanthal to defeat them.

  “There’s another prisoner I have to free,” she replied, and as they arrived at the staircase, she shifted away.

  While the dungeons had been cleaner than she remembered, the stables were exactly as she’d
left them. Painted wood to match the black architecture; sizeable enough to seem like they’d been crammed, but spacious enough to provide room to ride around them; straw piled on the floor and leaking from its frame. There was only one thing that had changed: the sound. While once she had heard the bustling city make its impression on the grounds, now she heard the gentle waves of the Unending Seas.

  Rikki passed through the entire stable, recognizing most of the horses but failing to spot the one she’d come to visit. Perhaps Mirabelle had listened to her and had taken off into the desert. She could be in any of the other kingdoms, flying through the air and enjoying the new sights.

  She’d wanted to know that at least one of her pets was all right. Ji-Ji was dead. Murdered. She hadn’t had the time to mourn, but she missed the white fur to stroke and that adorable nose and whiskers.

  Ji-Ji had been more than a pet. He’d proven to be an adept ally, using those razor-like teeth to their advantage. Though he’d done some damage in Belliore, she couldn’t blame him. It was their weapons that had engorged him and probably affected his temperament. At no other time had he caused mindless havoc.

  Neanthal had much to answer for, but the death of her denhare was near the top of the list. She would avenge Ji-Ji and all those that had suffered at the Beast’s hand. That included Hatswick and King Halstrom. And Linus. She wouldn’t forget the castle servant that had not only been kind but had even sympathized with her plight. And Phyllis. She had no fond memories of the woman, but she could not stand how she’d been turned into a Thalian puppet. And Milo. He’d have been alive if Neanthal had not infected the former Grand Mage.

  Too many lives had been lost as a result of Neanthal’s actions. She could bear no more. But her plan to keep her friends safe had resulted in another death. Versil had sacrificed himself because of her. She’d dragged him out of hiding and spurred him into action. Though they’d succeeded in driving the Beast from the castle, he still lived while another supposed immortal had died.

  Rikki was flush with anger and overwhelmed with grief. She wanted to rush to battle and collapse to the ground all at once. Only her staff was keeping her upright and in place.

  A familiar neigh cleared Rikki’s mind. She spun around and saw Mirabelle at the stable entryway. The sunlight illuminated her light brown fur and made the white splotch around her left eye and down her side all the more noticeable. Her wings were tucked in, though she occasionally jostled them in apparent excitement.

  Rikki let go of her staff and ran toward her friend.

  Mirabelle galloped toward her as well and almost accidently headbutted her as Rikki went in for an embrace.

  Rikki leaned her head against Mirabelle’s snout, something she hadn’t done in what felt like a year but was not even a full season. She couldn’t control the tears that started falling from her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Mirabelle grunted in response and briefly extended both wings.

  “Have you been waiting for me?”

  Her head bobbed in an apparent nod.

  Had Neanthal missed the pegasus staying on castle grounds? Or had Mirabelle taken up residence elsewhere while she waited for Rikki?

  She wanted to ask the questions, but without the ability to speak, there was only so much Mirabelle could tell her. And Rikki was not going to attempt magicking her a voice.

  So Rikki held her in place for a while, enjoying the soft fur against her forehead and the warmth her pegasus was radiating.

  “I can’t bring you with me,” Rikki said. She was not going to risk taking another friend into the proximity of such a dangerous foe. She and her friends could shift with ease. Mirabelle could not escape a deadly situation so easily.

  Mirabelle was not hurt by Rikki’s statement. She flapped her wings a bit, but stayed close, even as Rikki pulled away.

  “You should go and see the other kingdoms,” Rikki said. “I’ve been to them all. They are marvelous, though some of the people aren’t so great. You don’t have to worry about them, though. You can soar right past ‘em.” She extended her hand and her staff flew into it. “Go see the mountains. Or the seas. The farmlands. There are free horses out there, too. And when you come back…” She paused. “I plan on being here.”

  Mirabelle seemed to understand but was in no rush to leave. Instead, she bowed her head and urged Rikki to climb on her back.

  Rikki couldn’t resist after so long and promptly hopped onto Mirabelle’s back with some assistance from her staff.

  Mirabelle pretended to chase an invisible foe around the stables, just like they used to when they’d been trapped there. Rikki enjoyed the wind slapping her face, which now brought with it the essence of saltwater. It was much more pleasant than what she’d smelled in the dungeons.

  After several laps, Mirabelle spread her wings and prepared to lift off. But an unexpected obstacle entered their path.

  A boy in a yellow cloak appeared several feet in the air before falling back to the ground.

  Mirabelle came to a sudden stop that nearly flung Rikki from her back.

  Rikki slid off and ran up to the boy. “Aros?” she called out.

  “Rikki!” he exclaimed, and he took her into a hug when she was within reach.

  Their embrace was brief and she quickly pulled away. She’d only expected to have one reunion in the stables. “How did you know to come here?”

  Aros gave her a sly smile before saying, “We have a lot to discuss.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Alliance

  Doren looked more distressed sitting at the head of the table than when he’d been cleaning it with a rag moments earlier. It was a long table, not so easy to scrub, but apparently the view from his kingly chair was more sickening.

  Aros couldn’t tell what Doren was staring at that was so troubling. For a room that had seen centuries of kings and their notable aides, the High Council chamber wasn’t very impressive. It had a high ceiling with windows that failed to allow sunlight to reach down to them, so they had to rely on candles even in the daytime. The chairs were nice and cushioned, but otherwise it was as dark and unwelcoming as many of Castle Tornis’ corridors.

  While he roamed around the room, trying to detect some secret that might have made the room special, be it a unique carving or hidden doorway, Doren remained planted in his seat, occasionally squirming. They’d already shared their hug and greeting, and had been left to wait for their third.

  After circling the room and running his hand along every reachable inch of the black stone walls, he moved over to the table. But he wasn’t done searching. He pulled out chairs, pulled up cushions, and crawled underneath the table to get a look at its underside.

  When he finally got back on his feet and moved closer to Doren, he said, “I don’t get it.”

  Doren managed to focus his eyes on his friend. “Don’t get what?”

  “What’s so special about this room. It’s not grand or warm. Yet you insisted we host our guests here.”

  “Is that what you’ve been doing?” A reluctant smile spread out on his face. “This room has been used by the King and his High Council since before Aergo. It has meaning beyond what you can see.”

  “You’d think they’d at least decorate it better,” Aros remarked as he took the seat nearest Doren.

  “You know, I think my mother might have mentioned that once,” Doren said.

  “She was right,” Aros replied, settling into his seat and laying both clawblades on the table, where they joined Doren’s shield.

  “Think you could make me a magnetic strap for this?” he asked, tapping on the bronze disk. “My old sling and the cloak don’t go together as well.”

  Aros was honored to be asked to make something for his friend. It seemed like ages since he’d but his blacksmithing skills to use. He hoped he hadn’t forgotten much in his time away.

  “I’ll head back to the shop with Ratch later,” Aros affirmed. “Shouldn’t take too long to cook up another one.”
<
br />   “You might want to make one for Rikki, too, or she could get jealous.”

  “You think?” Aros replied. Rikki seemed above such pettiness, and he also didn’t imagine she’d have much use for a magnetic strap, given her magic and all.

  “Were you two talking about me?” Rikki asked as she shifted into the room.

  Both of the boys sputtered as she walked toward them, touching Doren’s shoulder and appearing like she might just plop down in his lap until she continued onward to take the closest seat at the other side of the table.

  “Hatswick used to sit there,” Doren said.

  “Then it’s the rightful spot of the Grand Mage,” Rikki replied.

  “Are they coming?” Aros asked, wondering if Rikki had gotten in touch with Loraya.

  “Belliore will be represented,” she replied. “Faunli will not be. I couldn’t find Simma or Yveen. Though, to be fair, I was trying to avoid anywhere Neanthal could be. Azzer is in Terrastream and we’ll see who he returns with. And Kytheras is with us, naturally. We’ve already got guardians taking to the streets, recruiting volunteers.”

  While he listened to Rikki’s update, his mind stuck on Loraya. Had she survived her encounter with the monarchists? Had she convinced them to join a truce and battle Neanthal? He didn’t want to wait on a report from Azzer. He wanted to shift there himself.

  Rikki cleared her throat, and Aros slowly moved his gaze onto her.

  “You had information to share before the others got here,” Rikki reminded him.

  “I did. I do.” Aros tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, trying to concoct the best way to say it. But the only way he figured he’d be able to get it out was to be blunt. “I met Magenine.”

  Doren and Rikki both tilted their heads, unsure of his sincerity.

  Aros took a deep breath and sped through the events that had led to his meeting the Goddess, and he did his best to summarize their conversation. He left out the bits he didn’t understand, and he forgot to mention some of the words that weren’t as important to their current situation. But he managed to relay to them the entire gist of his divine encounter.

  There was an abundance of squinting and stuttering in the aftermath of his revelation. His friends were certain to have believed him but were unaware of how to react. It had been odd enough to hear that the Goddess whispered in his ear. How could they process a tale where he’d actually met Her?