Crystal King (Riland Throne Book 1)

by John Olsen

  Tover put a brave face on things, but Gavin knew the man suffered because of his son’s death and would feel the loss forever. Despite the rocky relationship Gavin had with his father, grief struck without warning. He’d held it at bay since the day before. He wasn’t ready for his family to be gone. Gavin and Tover both gazed across the grassy field where Saleena worked rather than acknowledge the tears on their cheeks. A few moments later, Gavin sniffed and blamed the cold weather for his running nose, and Tover picked at his sleeve and looked anywhere but at Gavin.

  Finally, Tover spoke. “So, about the crystals. What do we do next, good sir?”

  Despite the grief roiling under the surface, Gavin nodded and moved on. “I haven’t talked to anyone about your crystals. Master Draken is on his way this afternoon to find out what happened, leaving me as acting baron. I need to hold things together here until he gets back, either with my father or with a confirmation of his death. I have an idea to increase our safety, but it could get me into a whole new kind of trouble.”

  Tover folded his arms across his chest. “Troubles are coming, either way.”

  “You have no idea. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you and the rest of the people are safe. Father will be most displeased.”

  Baron Gerald Stoutheart glared at the guard stationed at his north-most watchtower. “No word at all? That’s unacceptable.”

  The watchtower was the most remote within the borders of the barony, and it had taken careful maneuvering to get this particular guard to be stationed there during the invasion.

  The old stone border watchtowers had served long and well to aid travelers and give warning of invasion in times of war. This time, no warning was sent.

  “The scouts are a day late, and the Graven King is behind me with his entire band of war animals. Hungry war animals, I might add. He won’t be happy if those feed cattle are missing. They’re vital to our success. Do you have any idea how much it slows an army if they have to forage? And my son! It should be no great challenge to fetch one rebellious child.”

  The baron stomped back and forth outside the tower with an occasional glance to the south for the wayward scouts, then to the north for signs of the approaching army.

  “Did they tell you anything as they left? You gave the note to them, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. I gave them the note. The big guy locked it in a travel case. I told him it was critical like you said.”

  Baron Stoutheart shook his head. “The instructions weren’t difficult. Get rid of the cattle herders, capture my son, show him the note, and bring the cattle. How could this be so difficult? They had King Ithan’s war animal with them, didn’t they?”

  The guard nodded. “A large bear, bigger than old one-ear. They said they would put a scare into him first to make him compliant, but they said it was an easy job.”

  Lack of any word about his younger son prompted memories of the ambush at the council of barons. It had taken delicate planning to achieve everything up to this point, and Gerald had given the power-hungry King Ithan all the information and help he needed to succeed against King Vargas and his gathered barons. The sleep drugs had been horribly expensive but had done their job. King Ithan had been in a position of power and had lost only a handful of men.

  The choice to betray his own King Vargas was easy once Gerald recognized King Ithan didn’t suffer from the sloth and foolishness of Gerald’s peers within the kingdom. King Ithan’s quest for power matched Gerald’s hunger to control and organize what was a sloppy, careless arrangement. The barons were dilettantes, weak and soft after too many years of prosperity and excess. The baronies needed a firm hand to govern them, and they hadn’t seen real leadership from his king. Gerald’s betrayal would cut the fat from the kingdom and put it on a much better course. The country would have new barons and a new king over them soon.

  The new king would not be King Ithan, of course. He was a means to an end. The invasion wiped out Gerald’s competition, just as he had planned. Now he only needed to arrange the death of King Ithan after they reached the capital, and he would control both kingdoms and be hailed as a hero for saving the people. For now, he needed to wait. He had to get all the game pieces into the right positions on the board before King Ithan figured out Gerald’s game.

  The guard asked, “Where’s Stephan? Wasn’t he supposed to come with you, too?”

  “Stephan isn’t coming,” Gerald said, a flash of annoyance spilling into his voice.

  The guard hesitated a moment, then said, “Why not?”

  Gerald looked up at the scattered clouds as events replayed in his mind. “Years of training are wasted because he jumped to my defense needlessly. I warned him. I ordered him, but he ignored me and charged the war animals of King Ithan to defend King Vargas and his useless pack of sycophant barons. King Ithan’s animals cut him down before I could intervene. King Ithan is useful to me, but he’s certainly not worth the life of my son.”

  The guard gasped. “Dead? But then Gavin is your heir.”

  Gerald nodded and clenched his jaw. “Indeed. And if that untrained and unwilling whelp is our best hope, then may I live a very long life.” He hoped to have the long life his wife was denied when Gavin’s birth killed her. When life was unfair, he took control to make his own luck.

  He waved his arm to the south as he scanned the horizon. “Climb the tower and check again for the scouts and cattle. The army will arrive soon.”

  * * *

  The wolf, with Draken watching through her eyes, pulled back tight against the tall tower’s back wall on the side away from Baron Stoutheart. The guard couldn’t see her from the stone parapets without leaning over to look straight down, but Draken still took a great risk to get this close. He’d heard the baron’s talk of betraying the entire kingdom for the sake of power. Every other baron in the kingdom and many of their heirs gone!

  It was true. The kingdom was leaderless. Now the enemy could march through the center of the crippled land to the capital with only minimal resistance. Draken knew enough of politics to see the kingdom could collapse, and would likely merge with the Graven Kingdom despite Baron Stoutheart’s efforts. The country of Riland would no longer exist.

  Draken agreed with Gerald Stoutheart on many things. King Vargas and many of the barons had become complacent and soft, enjoying their drink and the comfort of their padded chairs more with each passing year. It led to Draken’s ejection from the capital years ago, for being too vocal about problems he saw. They didn’t take the law seriously, and they abused power. Draken understood how their indolence had made betrayal easy.

  Baron Stoutheart was one of the few who respected structure and order, so Draken had taken service with him. He understood why the baron betrayed the king and the people, but understanding did not mean he agreed with Baron Stoutheart’s actions. Draken had sworn an oath to the kingdom, and Baron Stoutheart had once shown a matching dedication. His admiration for the baron had been unassailable before, but his respect flew like ash in the wind, replaced with a bitter anger.

  Draken considered killing both the baron and the guard, but there was no way he could pull off such a feat with only himself and an injured wolf against two well-armed and armored men. Leaving the old baron in place wasn’t all bad since reliance on the baron would make King Ithan more predictable. A predictable enemy was easier to beat.

  The baron wasn’t the type to roll over and serve someone unless there was no other option. He must have plans and contingencies. After betraying and killing the king and other barons, it didn’t matter. Draken would never forgive the baron for such a dishonor. It was a shame to have served him.

  He twitched his wolf’s ears and listened as the guard tromped around on the rooftop. He waited until the man moved to the south rim, opposite from where the wolf crouched. Once he was sure of the man’s position, the wolf sprinted for the tree line. Draken continued his observations from a distance. It was too bad he wouldn’t be able to listen in on an
y more conversations here, but he felt content. He’d met the objectives of his scouting mission to find out what he needed to know about the baron. Anything else was a bonus.

  The wolf crouched down next to his body as he lay in a trance, hidden within the shadows of the trees. His horse waited farther back into the woods. It was dangerous to leave both his body and the horse unguarded, but the risk had paid off.

  The wolf’s instincts played into Draken’s seething anger. Her hackles rose as Draken thought of the betrayal, and a low growl escaped from her throat. Rather than let the instincts run wild, he controlled and directed the anger.

  He would wait and learn more about the Graven King’s army. The people of the barony couldn’t fight an army, but anything he learned would prove useful as he planned his next move. He saw dust to the north. It wouldn’t be a long wait.

  * * *

  Baron Gerald Stoutheart squinted along the trail to the northeast, noting the increasing dust, and called to his guard. “Any sign from the south?”

  The guard poked his head over the parapet. “Nothing, sir.”

  “Well, that’s it then.” Gerald strode out a few steps from the tower and waited for his new king to arrive. The vanguard of the army appeared in the distance. His promise of meat for the army’s war animals had failed. At least the watchtower supplies would feed the men of the army for a time. His saving grace was his knowledge of the land and its inhabitants. He would have to strike a proper balance between humility and shrewd resource to maintain his position. His modified plan was firm in his mind by the time King Ithan Talandor, ruler of the Graven Kingdom, approached and planted his feet apart to glare at the baron.

  Gerald knelt with one knee pressed against the dry fall grasses, head bowed. “Welcome to my barony, Your Majesty.”

  “Yes. Your supposedly well-provisioned guard outpost. I believe you promised cattle to speed our trip? I accepted your offer to join us in this venture because of what you promised. You keep us in provisions, and we leave the people and the crops in place. What would Stoutheart Barony be worth stripped to the bone for our war effort? I assume you want your barony to avoid destruction.”

  “Your Majesty, if you would join us on the lookout? My man is watching for the provisions, but there has been a delay.”

  Gerald led him into the tower with the king guarded fore and aft by his men as they climbed the three flights of stairs to the outlook on the roof.

  The baron met all the protocols of courtesy and made introductions. “This is His Majesty the King. Your Majesty, this is my loyal servant Martan Mallory, who has secured this site and maintained our supplies.” Gerald understood one could be formal and proper and still throw someone to the wolves.

  “I see.” King Ithan stepped back, snapped his fingers and gestured to his guards who grabbed the tower guard and heaved him, screaming, over the crenellations.

  The king turned back to Baron Stoutheart. “Strip him down and haul him out into the field for my war animals. I’ve saved you one cow from your missing herd. This is your land, and I respect that, but I expect you to point out where we may hunt successfully. I’m afraid your settlements will have to contribute the difference. We can’t afford to wait or slow down, or the news of our coming will spread too far ahead of us.”

  Gerald nodded, relieved to be alive.

  As he stripped Martan’s broken body, he decided he must adjust his plan to take the throne of Riland. Originally, his son Stephan would have wed King Ithan’s only child, a daughter, after Ithan’s death. That plan would have bound the families together to give him the leverage to conquer his temporary ally on two fronts. Plans shifted and adjusted as needed.

  If the king continued to kill the baron’s loyal people, he would have to take precautions. The king must die before he took the capital and gained the throne, rather than after. The people were suckers for a savior, and the baron would set himself up to fill the role and take the throne for himself earlier than planned.

  Gerald pursed his lips and grunted in disappointment at one more unanticipated corpse on the path to the throne. He dragged Martan’s body to the waiting war animals.

  The reports in front of Gavin were both tedious and critical to the daily functions of the barony. He reviewed the new report on guards assigned to patrol both inside and outside the castle. There wasn’t enough manpower to repel even a large group of bandits for any length of time. The fletchers had been assigned to build a stockpile of arrows, but without the baron’s war animals, his defenders would lose against any large-scale organized attack. It was a foregone conclusion an attack of any size would destroy the village outside the walls.

  Gavin regretted the loss of the war animals at the Baron’s Conference, and felt defenseless. At least the wolf was available for Master Draken, but only because she had wandered into a patch of dragon-head vines, and her paws weren’t healed by the time the baron left. The thorns of the vine were barbed and mildly poisonous, leaving behind an infection that lingered for weeks if untreated.

  Gavin heard a rap at the door. “Come.” He’d learned Jase and the other guards wouldn’t open the door to enter until invited, unlike Draken.

  Jase held the door open as Tover entered. “You sent for me, good sir?”

  “Yes. I’ve figured out my plans and I have a question for you. First, our conversation doesn’t go beyond the two of us. I’m sure you’ll see why. We only have one man within a day’s ride of the castle who has ever officially cut crystal. He has only apprentice experience, but he’s the only one I know. We’ve always had our best work brought in from the capital. Did Ned cut all the crystals, or did you help?”

  “No, good sir. Ned did the crystal work, rest his soul. I tried a few times, but they never turned out. Mostly I broke them when I tried to split the master and servant halves apart.”

  “Well, then. My job for you is to take ten of the best uncut rocks from your stash to Roben Sharp with one of Ned’s crystals with the simplified pooka marks. See if he can copy it. Tell him it’s from the baron’s supplies. You know the tinker, don’t you?”

  “I do, sir. But why are you taking this risk? There will be trouble if your father comes back, and not just for you.”

  Gavin knew very well the trouble he was stirring up, but he didn’t want to burden Tover with thoughts of the weakness of the barony, or their poor ability to gather information. He decided the personal wrath of his father was worth it if it would protect them from invaders.

  “If you take these from baronial supplies, you can’t be blamed for following my orders. This will all fall on me. If we need to defend the people, I’m going to use every resource I have. A few more cut crystal pairs might tilt things in our favor even if they’re not perfect. My next step will make my troubles so far seem like spitting in a thunderstorm. I never was good at listening to my father.”

  It was a huge risk for him personally, but Gavin had to fortify the castle and village against attack to protect the people. His people. He would deal with the consequences later.

  Gavin walked Tover to the door and paused with his hand on the handle. “One other thing. There’s a young man named Willem who keeps the pests down at the granary with his Cats of the Apocalypse. I’ve asked the cook to set aside something for him. Can you and Saleena make sure he gets taken care of? He needs a solid meal.”

  “We’ll see to him, sir. And thank you.” Tover bowed, both hands to his heart in a gesture of respect that had gone out of style at least a generation back.

  As Tover left, Gavin turned to the guard. “Please send for Captain Zachary. I’ll need him to open the castle vault for me.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have him here shortly.”

  Jase was good to his word, and a few minutes later Gavin stood at the vault door with the captain, who held a large iron key ring in hand. If there were any unused crystals in the castle, this was the place to look. He also needed to pay Master Sharp for his services to cut the crystal, and the treasury books indi
cated there were plenty of coins if the tinker didn’t want to barter food or materials for his services.

  “Sir, I can open it, but it’s a bit premature. We have all the commodities we need for trade. The Baron was always protective of this vault, and never let me inside with him. Most of the time he came alone, despite my recommendations to keep a guard with him.”

  Gavin considered abandoning his plan as he examined the vault door. After a few moments, he decided the defense of the castle was an all-or-nothing event. He couldn’t approach it with half a heart. “Open it anyway. I hope you’re good at keeping secrets because you’ll be my witness in the vault.”

  “If your father comes back, I’ll burn a candle for you.”

  “He doesn’t expect a lot from me, and that’s always given me extra flexibility. But keep a candle ready just in case.”

  Captain Zachary unlocked the door and swung it open on well-oiled hinges. They stepped inside, and Gavin lit the wall lanterns from the small candlestick he had brought along. He held up the candlestick and peered around the room, taking a quick survey of the crates, boxes, and cabinets.

  “If I were my father, where would I store crystals?” He dismissed the larger containers and gave a critical eye to a set of shallow cabinets mounted to the wall at eye level. “Maybe here?”

  The captain gave a noncommittal shrug. “That seems as likely as any.”

  The first two were empty, but the third contained a series of hooks with three crystal pairs hanging on cords. Gavin hadn’t expected to find much, but the three pairs were minor training crystals to be used with smaller, less dangerous animals. Back in the corner of the case, a single beautiful mid-sized crystal sat by itself where it must have fallen. His father had taken the rest with him, along with the animals. Gavin took the single crystal and put it around his neck. If an animal wore the other half, he would attune to it soon. He might have a chance to figure out what the other half belonged to if it was near the castle. He pocketed the three matched pairs.