Mark of the Banished
Page 1
This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, certain characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Mark of the Banished (Heroes of Algar Book 1)
Published by Wolf Dragon Publishing
P.O. Box 353
American Fork, Utah 84003
Copyright © 2021 by Salandra Wolfe
Cover design copyright © 2021 by Wolf Dragon Publishing
Ebook design by ePubMasters
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for supporting the author’s rights.
Printed in the United States of America
Year of first printing: 2021
Table of Contents
Copyright
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Epilogue
About the Author
“THIS ISN’T A BATTLE, IT’S A WAR. A CROWN WAR. AND I’M DETERMINED TO WIN.”
When King Richard of Algar is murdered in his own castle, Lord Ryland, close relative to the throne, is called upon to find the killer and assist Richard’s son, Caspian, in his duties to the throne. Ryland reluctantly accepts the position and postpones his upcoming marriage, hoping to bring the killer to swift justice. But finding the king’s murderer proves difficult, and Ryland watches, horrified, as Prince Caspian crumbles under the pressure of ruling, his instability threatening to destroy the entire kingdom.
Determined to save Algar, Ryland, advised by his wizard cousin, Devin, must decide whether to support the boy or take the throne for himself. But Devin, behind all his magic and smiles, is hiding a secret far darker than Caspian or Ryland could have ever imagined, and Ryland’s loyalties might just get them all killed.
Can Caspian and Ryland come together in time to spare Algar from destruction?
TO MY MOM, WHO STOOD BY ME EVERY STEP OF THE WAY.
Prologue
Four-year-old Ryland Lyke picked up two of his toys and smashed them together, laughing at the motion as any child might. He looked up from his toys when his cousin Devin strode into the room, his black wizard’s cloak swirling behind him. Ryland laughed again and held out his arms, begging his hero to pick him up.
Devin stared down at the boy with some disgust. The child was almost useless. Almost. Devin grinned and squatted down to look the boy in the face, ignoring his outstretched arms.
Ryland lowered his arms, pouting a bit. “Defin come to play?” he asked sweetly.
Devin shook his head, his dark hair falling over his face. “No, my dear cousin. I’m here to make you great.”
Devin wasn’t truly Ryland’s cousin, but the wizard had become close enough to the family to be qualified as one. Until now, he hadn’t known if the connection would serve his plans. But now . . . now he was certain it would.
Devin had always wanted to rule over Algar, but the kingdom was proud and strong, not easily taken over, as his ancestors had learned the hard way hundreds of years before. But this time, things would be different.
Ryland tilted his head and stared at Devin, his brow wrinkling in confusion.
Devin picked up one of the toys Ryland had been playing with, and with a flick of his fingers, it turned into a miniature Ryland with a crown on his head. Ryland reached for it, his eyes wide.
“One day, you’ll be king,” Devin whispered into the child’s ear. It was an impossible thought, one Devin had been struggling with for years. But now, he had a plan. And it all revolved around this one little boy.
Ryland glanced up momentarily, then turned his attention back to the figure. Watching the boy stare at the toy, Devin straightened and smirked.
This is going to work out perfectly.
Chapter One
Caspian was not having a good day. He was the Prince of Algar, the most peaceful and beautiful kingdom the world had ever known. Or at least he assumed it was. He didn’t know of any other kingdoms, as isolated as Algar was, but he was certain if there were other kingdoms, his would be the best. His people were kind, generous, and loyal to the royal family. They had virtually no crime, and the economy was always on the rise. King Richard Algris, his father, ruled with fairness and compassion, and everyone loved both him and his only son, the heir to the throne, Prince Caspian Algris himself.
But Caspian couldn’t think about any of that as his thoughts kept circling back to his mother, the gentle and loving Queen Isabelle Algris. He remembered so many things about her, but the memory he kept thinking of was the day she died. He had been ten years old at the time, and her passing had changed his entire world. Even seven years later, everything still felt wrong without her, and it was worse now that his father had fallen ill.
The kitchen maid, Tally, shook Caspian from his dreary thoughts when she handed him a tray full of food. She smiled and nudged him gently. “Go ahead and take this to your father.”
Caspian moved down the hallway woodenly, only dimly aware of Tally following him. His thoughts went back to the night when his father had told him his mother wasn’t coming back. It had taken ages for him to understand what that meant.
Caspian stopped walking, tears rolling down his face. Tally urged him on gently, but he could hardly hear her. His father was as ill as his mother had been. He could feel the similarities in it, could see where his future was going. The fear that his father, too, would disappear and never come back paralyzed him.
He shook his head and tried to focus on the positive. His father wasn’t dead yet. He might still recover.
But something told him that wasn’t how the story would end.
The wizard Devin grinned ruthlessly at the stone wall in front of him. He was standing in his underground lair, leaning against a relatively uncluttered table. The room was circular, with several tables laid out haphazardly throughout and many tunnels branching off, quickly disappearing into darkness. Bottles, books, and strange ingredients—the tools of his wizard’s trade—were scattered around the room, some on the tables, others carelessly resting on the ground.
Devin drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes still fixed on the wall. There, through his magic, he could see his cousin, Ryland, with his childhood friend, Fayre Ingland. Devin rolled his eyes as he watched Ryland get down on one knee and propose to the girl. When he couldn’t take the giggling and the jumping and the kissing, he shook his head and disengaged the spell.
Ryland was all grown up now—finally—and had been away for three years at a noble-man school in Eastern Algar. Devin had encouraged him to go, knowing it would help his plan later, but it had been frustrating to wait until Ryland returned. Devin, however, had been waiting since Ryland was four to get things underway. He could wait t
hree more years.
Now, excitement pressed on him. Ryland was back, and Devin wanted to act. But he had to be careful. He didn’t want what he was doing to be obvious. Ryland could never know about his plan. If he did, it would ruin everything.
Enough is enough, Devin finally decided. He waved his hand, and everything in the room rose into the air and began moving clockwise around the chamber, with Devin standing in the middle as if in the eye of a hurricane. One bottle defied the trend, emerging from the mess and making its way toward Devin. It was half empty, containing a yellow-orange substance. Once it was within reach, Devin grabbed it, grinning.
He turned and cradled the bottle in his hand, drawing out a dropper from his cloak. He removed the cap of the bottle and filled the dropper carefully, making sure he didn’t spill any of the precious liquid. After the dropper was filled, he released the newly capped bottle, and it was caught by an unseen force, floating back from whence it came. The objects in the room settled back to their regular places without a sound.
Striding to one of the tunnels that branched off from the chamber, he stepped inside the secret passageway, hurrying down its poorly lit corridors and its many twists and turns until he finally reached a hidden door. It opened silently and quickly. The castle was protected by ancient magical wards, making it impossible for him to simply teleport inside, but the tunnels underneath were more susceptible to his dark magic, and he had been able to make an entrance into them straight from his own home.
Devin stole into the large, ornate room, his power filling the space. He approached the bed that was shoved up against the wall, glancing at both the door to the privy and the door leading into the hallway to make sure no one else was present. Glancing back at the bed, Devin eyed it emotionlessly. It was huge and luxurious, and the man atop it seemed tiny and dull in comparison.
There, King Richard of Algar lay dying and helpless, all alone.
Devin leaned over and slapped the man’s cheeks, and King Richard woke up, his blood-shot eyes fluttering open before finally focusing on Devin and filling with fear. He strained to rise and flee, no doubt, but all his weakened body did was twitch.
Devin smirked and leaned forward to whisper into the man’s ear, “I wanted you to look your killer in the face before you died. I’ve been poisoning you for months, and you never noticed, did you?”
He forced the king’s mouth open and squeezed the liquid from the dropper into his mouth. The king fought weakly, but there was nothing he could do to prevent the liquid from running down his throat.
Devin stepped back, watching the king twitch and gasp in terror before he finally died, his face turning gray while his open eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
Hearing footsteps outside the door, Devin spun quickly and hurried back into the secret passage, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes as he imagined the expression on the prince’s face when he discovered his father’s lifeless corpse. The thought made him smile, and he scoffed inwardly at the prince.
There’s nothing you can do to save your daddy now, Prince Caspian. Devin opened his eyes and marched down the corridor triumphantly, his mind already on the next step.
Phase two was finally in action.
Caspian reached the door to his father’s room, his hands shaking so badly the tray made a loud rattling sound.
“It’s okay,” Tally whispered. “Just go in and give it to him. Maybe he’ll feel well enough to talk to you today.”
Caspian nodded, though he thought it unlikely. His father was too sick to do much of anything these days except draw in tortured breaths. He turned the handle, smiling back at Tally briefly. She nodded and walked away.
The prince took a deep breath and turned back to the room as he pushed the door open, pasting a smile on his face. “Father, I brought you—” His voice faltered and died when he caught sight of his father’s face. It was as pale as his linen sheets, and the veins showing through his white skin were a dark purple.
Caspian dropped the tray and screamed, his whole body going numb. Without his permission, his legs carried him to his father’s side. He fell to his knees, grabbing the king’s hand. His flesh was still warm.
“Father,” he whispered. “Please. Please don’t leave me.” He peered into his father’s face, hoping it would have some sort of effect, but the lifeless form on the bed didn’t move.
“Please, no. Wake up, Dad. Wake up!” Caspian patted the king’s hand, terrified to see the veins there slowly turning purple as well.
Caspian’s heart seemed to cave inward, and his whole world went dark. He dropped his father’s hand and clung onto the bed frame instead, feeling his life come crashing down around him in tiny shards that cut into his heart, making it hard to breathe or even exist. The pain was so encompassing Caspian couldn’t see or hear anything. He was conscious of nothing but the total grief and horror he felt.
King Richard of Algar, his beloved father, was dead.
Chapter Two
Ryland bounced up and down on his horse, riding toward his house. The wind took his dark hair and tossed it around, and he winced as a strand hit his eye, causing it to sting.
“Are you crying, Ryland?” Fayre taunted as she rode next to him, her long red hair blowing out behind her.
He grinned at her, his eye still streaming. “No way, Fay. I don’t cry.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Race you to the house!”
She spurred her horse ahead, and Ryland let her have a head start before urging his horse to run.
He and his horse thundered across the plain as one. Ryland closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air. For three years he had been cooped up at a school in Eastern Algar, three week’s travel by horse from his childhood home. This was his first time riding his horse back through these plains, and he was enjoying it thoroughly.
Ryland lifted his eyes to look at Fayre as he galloped past her. He was an excellent horseman, and his horse was much faster than hers. There was no doubt who would win.
Ryland reined in his horse just before the house and let Fayre pass him.
“I won!” Fayre proclaimed.
Ryland shook his head and walked his horse closer, but he didn’t respond.
Fayre watched him slide off his horse and walk toward her. “So what are you going to do now that you’re back from your three-year imprisonment?”
Ryland grabbed her waist and swung her off the horse, giving her a kiss on the lips. “I plan to make a family with my true love,” he whispered into her ear.
Fayre giggled. “I love you, Ryland.”
“I love you too.” He bent to kiss her again but was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. They both looked up to see Devin standing in front of them, dressed in his usual black cloak and robes.
“Hello, Cousin! How are you this fine morning?” Ryland grinned at the man, happy to see him. Other than Fayre, Ryland had missed his cousin the most of all his friends.
“Hello, Devin,” Fayre greeted, nodding to him with a smile.
Devin smiled at both of them. “It’s great to see you again, Ryland. You were missed while you were away.” Devin eyed Ryland’s arm around Fayre’s waist. “I heard that you two lovebirds got engaged?”
Fayre smiled and held up her left hand, the sparkling diamond ring Ryland had purchased on her finger. “Yes, we are.” Ryland kissed her on the cheek, and she blushed. Ryland momentarily wondered how Devin had heard the news, but he quickly banished the thought, realizing his parents must have talked to his cousin about his plans. He’d told them in his letters about his decision to propose to Fayre, and they had given him their blessing.
An expression of disgust crossed Devin’s face, vanishing an instant later. It was so fleeting that Ryland couldn’t tell if he had imagined it.
“I am very happy for you two,” Devin said. “It’s about time. You have been in love for years.”
Ryland and Fayre both blushed this time.
Devin shook his head. “What matters is that you are together now.” After Ryland nodded in agreement, Devin snapped his fingers and added, “Oh, right, I almost forgot. Your parents are waiting for your return. They’re upset that you arrived home and immediately went to the castle to see Fayre before talking to them. They have a feast prepared and want to hear all your news. Especially about your pending nuptials.” Devin raised his eyebrows.
Ryland blushed. “Right.” He felt bad about avoiding his parents, but after all these years, he couldn’t have waited one more second to ask Fayre to be his wife.
Ryland and Fayre started walking toward the house, but when Devin didn’t follow, Ryland paused and turned back.
“Aren’t you coming, Dev?”
Devin shook his head. “As much as I would love to hear your stories, my parents are sick and need me to care for them. I just came over to say hello and congratulations.”
Fayre frowned. “Are your parents okay?”
“They will be fine. Modern medicine has come a long way.” Devin turned, swirling his cloak around him, and was gone.
“It really weirds me out when he disappears with that dramatic spin,” Fayre muttered.
“He’s a wizard. Wouldn’t you teleport if you could?”
Fayre shrugged. “Probably.” She laughed. “It might be useful, actually.”
Ryland rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek again. “Come on. We shouldn’t keep my parents waiting any longer.”
They walked into the house together, and Ryland was immediately waylaid by his mother, Lady Lily Lyke. She wore a long, billowy day dress that reflected her bright and sunny attitude. The yellow material clung to him as she hugged him and kissed his cheeks wordlessly. From the wet feel of her cheek against his, Ryland guessed she was crying. Quickly though, she moved on to Fayre, and Ryland stepped away, his cheeks heating uncomfortably. He watched his mother for a moment, wondering at her dignity and grace. Even though her brown hair was graying, and her light green eyes had wrinkles surrounding them, the smile she wore made her seem a decade younger than her fifty years.