Crystal King (Riland Throne Book 1)

by John Olsen

  Crystal King

  John M. Olsen

  Immortal Works

  Immortal Works LLC

  P.O. Box 25492

  Salt Lake City, Utah 84125

  Tel: (385) 202-0116

  © 2017 John M. Olsen

  https://johnmolsen.blogspot.com/

  Map illustrated by J. Riley Horn

  http://www.rileyhornart.com/

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information email contact@immortal-works.com or visit

  http://www.immortal-works.com/contact/

  ASIN: B075B3Q7YN

  To my friends, old and new, who support and humor me and say nice things about me when I'm not even there. Finally, I dedicate this work to my wife without whom I would not know how to fake being an extrovert.

  Contents

  Map of Riland Kingdom

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Map of Riland Kingdom

  Gavin glanced up from the castle roof as clouds floated by like dreams; they were nice to gaze at, but impossible to reach.

  He took a bite from a fresh apple pilfered from the kitchen, and leaned back against the cool stone. Across the roof, boots rapped out an approaching rhythm as Master Draken Mboli rounded the bell tower, looking like a thundercloud ready to spew lightning bolts.

  Draken placed his hands on his hips and waited. His imposing form was terrifying at times. His umber skin told of his far-southern origins in the unclaimed wilds and matched his glaring brown eyes.

  Gavin smelled smoke and nearly attributed it to Draken’s temper rather than the chimneys of the adjacent village. The thought of Draken’s temper letting off smoke made Gavin laugh under his breath, but he had sense enough to squelch the noise before Draken heard.

  Finally, Draken spoke through clenched teeth. “Is it too much to ask you to show up for weapon drills and crystal training at least once this week? I refuse to further justify your behavior to your father, and I refuse to let you get away with this laziness any longer.”

  Gavin didn’t think of himself as lazy. He just didn’t place any value on the things his father, his trainer, or even his brother wanted from him. They already had the barony leadership well in hand, which left him unsure of where he fit. Why should he put any effort in to study and training when he was the throw-away second son of a baron, and the king of Riland would never hear his name?

  He shrugged and tossed his apple core over the parapet. As he stood, a voice from below cried out in alarm. He looked over the edge. “Sorry, Goodwife Moody. I didn’t see you there.”

  A more cheerful voice from below called, “Oh, it’s you. I’ll toss it in the compost for you.” At least some of the villagers liked him.

  Draken let out a long breath and shook his head. “Follow me. Your father wants to see us before he leaves for the Baron’s Conference.”

  “Right. The conference he’s taking Stephan to without me. Without you, too.”

  Gavin knew it was risky to antagonize Draken, but it was a well-worn routine, and he fell into it out of habit.

  Draken turned around. “You are the age of full consent now. It’s time you acted like an adult. What you do influences those around you whether you like it or not. Right now, you’re making it hard for me to do my job.”

  He leaned against the wall next to the stairway down into the castle and shook his head. He showed all the signs of a buildup to a colossal lecture. Was Draken willing to make them late just to make a point?

  “Your actions impact others whether you want them to or not. What you believe makes no difference until you put effort into it. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you will be.”

  Gavin wanted to explain, but he didn’t know how. He tried anyway. “I know actions are important. I choose what I do for my reasons rather than my father’s. I’m not like him, and he knows it. You see how he treats me. All expectation and no reward. I’m expected to be a happy little appendage to the family and do what I’m told.”

  Draken’s voice dropped to just above a whisper. “You have the baron’s blood in your veins. You bear the family name. Do you think that counts for nothing? Don’t you see the rights and responsibilities that gives you? Why should your father go out of his way for you when you’ve done your best to make a mockery of your name? You bring shame to your mother’s grave.”

  Gavin stood with his mouth open. Of all the insults he’d received from Draken, this was the lowest. Finally, he recovered and pointed a finger. “Leave her out of this.”

  Draken ignored the gesture and turned to walk down the steps. “Your actions reflect on her. It’s time you learned to honor her memory.”

  “She died when I was born. You have no idea what I would give up to remember her, to have a memory to honor.”

  Draken scowled. “I never met your mother. Do you see that stopping me?”

  Gavin followed down the worn stone steps in silence, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

  * * *

  Gavin hated his father’s private council room. It brought back too many unpleasant memories, and each visit added a new memory to the list. An almost physical burden settled on his shoulders as he entered.

  Baron Gerald Stoutheart sat at his table with his eldest son, Stephan, at his side.

  The baron gestured across the table and spoke. “Have a seat, both of you.”

  Gavin chose the high-backed seat off to the side.

  Draken gave a short bow, then flipped his chair around backward and straddled it. He leaned his folded arms on the back of the chair. It was the only way Gavin had ever seen him sit at his father’s table.

  Draken said, “I’m sorry for the delay, sir. I had to retrieve Gavin.”

  The baron rubbed his forehead as if to lessen a headache. “Thank you. We leave within the hour, and I must go over a few things first.”

  He turned to Gavin. “With both myself and Stephan gone, that leaves you as the ranking member of the household here at the castle.”

  Gavin took a deep breath in anticipation, breathing in the scent of the flickering oil lamps. Could it be that he would finally get some responsibility and do something important?

  “I’m granting your request to visit the Tanners and fetch the cattle from the mountain pasture, but I need you under Draken’s supervision and training for two days first. He will run the barony while I’m gone. I expect you to learn something from him before you leave.” His father’s tone indicated the decision was not negotiable.

  Gavin knew enough to run the barony for a few short days, but wouldn’t be given a chance to do so. He bit his tongue on a reply to keep from losing even the privilege of the trip. He had no desire to be on Draken’s short leash until his father returned, so he nodded his acceptance.

  The baron turned to face Draken and made a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry to leave you behind, but I need a firm hand here while I’m gone. I’ll take most of my personal guard and several of
my advisers, which leaves a large hole to fill. All the healthy war animals are going along as well, so crystal training must be set aside for now. I intend to dominate the king’s hunt this year by taking everyone I can. I’ll have more than double the staff of any other baron. I’ll be back before you know it, and we’ll put things on a solid path forward.”

  Draken nodded. “Are you sure it’s wise to leave so little here for defense? The only war-trained animal left is the injured wolf.”

  The baron rummaged through a pouch until he found what he was after. He tossed a faceted crystal on a cord to Draken. “See to her recovery. Reports are all quiet with the Graven Kingdom along the north. I’m certain you’ll be fine.”

  Draken said, “Yes, sir. I will keep the castle running for you while everyone’s gone.” He put the cord over his head and tucked the crystal into the neck of his tunic. His nostrils flared.

  Gavin knew disappointment when he saw it. Draken was no fan of administration. Even the thought of military action or a good hunt put a glint into his eye. But Draken always took the baron’s side on any argument, even when Gavin knew Draken felt otherwise. Where did that respect come from?

  “That will be all. We have things to attend to before we leave.”

  Gavin was familiar with what he called “the dismissal.” His father had no more need of him, so he was to get out of sight and not interfere.

  He stood and headed for the door. Before Gavin could stop himself, he said, “We’ll get along fine without you.”

  The baron came to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over behind him. “Gavin!” his father’s void boomed as his fists hit the table.

  Stephan stood and put a calming hand on their father’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Stephan followed Gavin into the hall and fell in beside him.

  “You know he means well. He wants you to make something of yourself.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Everything will be yours. You’ve trained for it, and I’m nothing but an extra piece of unwanted baggage.”

  “You can’t mean that. He’s given you every opportunity. You’ve ignored what he offers.”

  “What? Should I be like you, a perfect copy of him, but without any responsibility or chance to make a difference? He looks at the village and sees subjects and resources. I see people. He considers me a burden because I’m not like him. He always has.”

  Stephan caught his brother by the shoulder and forcefully turned him, so they locked eyes. “I’ve seen the efforts he goes to for you. I know you disagree with his methods, but he has plans for greatness for the Stouthearts, and you’re part of that. You share the name. You’re family. He hasn’t told me the full measure of his plans, but I know they include you. This will be an important conference, and he’s working for our future. We have to build the barony to be better than it has ever been. It’s not just for me. Do you want to have that childish comment be your last word to him before our trip?”

  Gavin ran his fingers through his hair. Everyone had a plan for him and knew what was best, but never valued the time he spent among the villagers learning about them. “Tell him ...”

  “Yes?” Stephan waited with a hopeful expression.

  “Oh, never mind. You can regale me with tales of greatness when you get back.”

  It wasn’t just Draken or his father. Even his brother tried to get him to conform to proper ideals.

  They played their game, and he would play his. There was no reason to stay at the castle running through drills for two days to appease his father. He would use his leadership skills and initiative to leave early for the mountain pasture. Nobody would care or notice except Draken.

  * * *

  Gavin watched from an arrow slot near the castle gate as the train of wagons left with the crystal-controlled war animals. The larger animals, like his father’s one-eared bear, rode in cages, while others followed along on leashes.

  The village lay before him. It was half-vacant, the result of the last war that had cost so many lives across the kingdoms of all six Crystal Kings. He was too young to remember the war, but the old folks talked about it from time to time to blame their problems on the other kingdoms.

  The afternoon sun warmed him as he watched the wagons crest the hill. They rolled out of sight.

  It was too late for anyone to interfere, so he set out to prepare for his trip to the pasture. Soon he had provisions and a bedroll ready.

  The last thing on his list was his leather breastplate from the practice arena. He heard the staccato clack of metal on wood from the practice floor as he approached. Draken performed sword drills on the wooden dummies with a ferocity Gavin rarely saw. Now he knew how Draken worked out his frustrations.

  He would have to cross the arena to get his armor, but Draken would see him if he tried. He could wait for his trainer to tire and leave, or Gavin could go without the armor.

  It wasn’t a hard choice.

  Gavin hadn’t walked the trail for a year, yet it felt like coming home. Every fall he fetched the cattle herd along with the Tanner family who cared for them. He was allowed this personal trip because the Tanner twins, Saleena and Ned, were his closest friends. They had turned eighteen during the summer, a month after Gavin’s birthday.

  Out here in his father’s private grazing lands, Gavin did as he pleased with no interference and no obligations, but this time was different. He spent his time in thought about what his brother and Draken had said. Maybe they had a point. Maybe he’d been wrong. Had he been too selfish?

  He’d try to talk to Stephan and Draken, and maybe even his father, when this trip was over. Their expectations weren’t as outrageous as he made them out to be. It was often hard to remember, but he lived an easy life compared to the people from the village.

  The cattle trail rose at a slow, even pace through the hills. Evergreens stood on both sides of the trail as Gavin rounded a corner where granite boulders forced a sharp turn. Two strangers stood less than twenty strides away, gawking at his sudden appearance. Nobody had permission to be up there.

  The smaller of the two swore, and then said in a northern accent, “That’s him. He’s early.” The speaker lay down on the ground and entered a trance without another word. Gavin saw a crystal the size of two thumbs on a chain around the man’s neck and wondered what animal wore the other half of the matched pair.

  Based on the size of the crystal, it was a massive, war-trained predator that could catch him with little effort if he ran.

  The other man shirked off his pack and grasped an iron-shod fighting staff with both hands. He took up a defensive guard position between Gavin and the man on the ground. The guard wore a worked leather breastplate with a spaulder covering his right shoulder. The man’s armor was functional and well used, but the stained and mottled armor didn’t fit well. He must have come by it recently. Gavin was outclassed by the bandits, with no armor and only a short blade on his hip.

  After a quick glance around the scattered evergreens, to check for signs of their animal, Gavin drew his blade. He scanned for terrain he might use to his advantage and found none.

  Gavin made a fake lunge and discovered his opponent’s fast reflexes as the staff grazed his shoulder. He had to get past the guard and hurt the man in the trance to disrupt him, but there wasn’t much time.

  He circled to the right, away from his opponent’s weapon. Over the past year, he’d given Master Draken a string of excuses to get out of formal weapons training. Now he regretted it.

  As he circled, Gavin asked, “Who are you?” He took in the man’s smirk as he stood guard over his companion.

  The man said, “Makes no difference who we are, only that we’ve come for you.” This one also had a northern accent.

  As the man glanced down to step around a large stone, Gavin charged with a dodge to the right to force the guard to intercept his path with his staff held up in a defensive block. The burly thug didn’t have to take chances. All he had to do was keep Gavin busy for a
while, and he’d win by default when the animal arrived. Gavin skirted farther to the side and pulled wide enough to avoid a swing at his back.

  His meager skills returned in fits and starts. Still, no sound came from the trees. Even though his opponent had better skills, strength, and reach, the man stood his ground over his entranced companion rather than chase Gavin down. That made him predictable, but Gavin would tire fast as he worked to force an opening.

  Gavin feigned a thrust and drew back again, inviting yet another swing from his opponent. Something about the swing was off. He knew enough about combat, despite his best efforts to skip training, to recognize the man targeted Gavin’s torso rather than his head. The man wasn’t trying to kill him. They regained their stances.

  Why the man held back didn’t matter. What happened next was all that mattered; Gavin had to control the duel, or it could cost him and the Tanners their lives.

  A branch snapped in the trees to the north. He circled to the right of his target again, maximizing the distance from his opponent’s weapon to make it look like he would try the same attack as before. More branches broke as something large crunched through the undergrowth. The animal was big and fast, as he’d feared. If he didn’t break the trance immediately, it would be too late to do anything else.

  He heaved in a deep breath scented with sour sweat. He had to commit everything. It was a gamble, but Gavin counted on the thug not going for the kill. He dived in almost as he had before, but at the last moment spun and ducked across to the left under his opponent’s swing. The man continued his swing around in a great circle as Gavin had hoped, but he hadn’t counted on the man’s strength and speed as he brought his staff down.