The Outlaw King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One

by Craig Saunders

‘Wha’s ‘e say?’

  ‘He said ‘plot’, Grandpa.’

  ‘Dad, put your teeth in.’

  (murble murble)

  ‘Bah! In my day, now, we had plots. Bugger wouldn’t know if a plot came up and nipped ‘im inna badgers.’

  ‘What’s badgers, Grandpa?’

  ‘Never-you-mind. Dad, you really should know better…’

  Garenhill – Owner of a fantastic moustache, and Tarn’s Thieves’ Covenant contact.

  Garrett – Second in command of the western legion under Brocain.

  Gothar – Village bully, but in the way of most bullies, is of little ultimate importance.

  Haritha the Black – Much maligned witch of the Pale Forest.

  Hirander the Good – Masked bandit.

  Hurn Urillion – The Thane of Naeth’s tracker. Somewhat shorter toward the middle of the book.

  Ipsis – Bandit hero, but only because he rode the coattails of greater men.

  Jenin – Seer par excellence. Big bugger. Handy around the house.

  Jungst – Bandit.

  Kateral Boran – Bandit.

  Kilarion – A Lu. Caeus’ gaoler, or perhaps he was the prisoner all along.

  King Gerrain – The last king to hold the throne of Sturma, Ulrane’s father.

  Kuin – The scrawny son of the Thane of Spar. Although, to be fair, it hardly his fault he turned out gaunt with rheumy eyes.

  Kurin Marnon – The Thane of Spar’s expert huntsman, a tracker of men and in the end, a stalwart ally of the last king.

  Mar – Bandit lieutenant.

  Merilith – Wicked creature, hierarch schemer. Suffered with a club foot and a bifurcated urethra. Leastways, that’s what the history books say.

  Mert – Bandit.

  Mia – Gorgeous, full of life and love for her special daughter, Rena.

  Molly – Tarn’s surrogate mother, lost to the world, never to find the succour of lost loves beyond the gate, but doomed to roam the nowhere worlds until the dawning of time.

  ‘Bit harsh innit, Grandpa?’

  ‘It’s a hard world, Son, get used to it.’

  Nableth – Commander of the northern legion for the Thane of Naeth’s army.

  Orlane – Bandit.

  Orthenwade – Fatally wounded, or so everyone thought, but in the end he got back on his feet and opened a highly successful chain of cobblers.

  Orvane Wense – The Thane of Kar.

  Rean – One of the greatest archers of the age.

  Red hand – Lax guard.

  Ren – Dead bandit.

  ‘Be in books, they sez, easy life, they sez. Well, bloody well look at me now.’

  Rilon – Bandit lieutenant.

  Brendall – Bandit lieutenant, Tarn’s companion until the end. Left seven children behind, met three beyond Madal’s gates. And he thought he would know peace. Just goes to show, those little blighters will follow you anywhere, except when there’s a sharp implement to play with.

  Sam – Ren’s companion beyond Madal’s gates

  Savan Retrice – Captain of the secret guard.

  Selana – The Queen of Thieves…sultry, seductive, sexy…generally makes men think of words beginning with ‘S’.

  ‘What, like sausages? What’s he mean, mam?’

  ‘Never-you-mind.’

  (Hmm, works wonders, that.)

  Silvan – Better than Rean.

  The Hierophant – The leader of the Hierarchy, malevolence personified.

  The Slain – Leader of the Fresh Woods bandits. Crazy, reluctant casualty.

  Thane of Naeth – Known by his mummy as Hurth.

  Thane of Spar – Redalane. A good man, in heart and mind. Hurth’s opposite.

  Tor – Guide through the warrens under Naeth and accomplished head breaker.

  Turille – The Hierophant’s fawning servant.

  Tuth Morain – Pig farmer.

  Ulrane – Tarn’s father, the exiled King.

  Urng – Foreign bandit.

  Urthor – Boxing challenger.

  Uxthorn – Treacherous bandit. Got a length of silver for his troubles, but was rather disappointed as it’s not as easy as coin to take up the shops.

  Wexel – Bandit lieutenant.

  Y’xithil – Last, and well, if not the least, certainly among them.

  Places

  Cities – Naeth, Orioth (in Gern’s Crest)

  Countries – Sturma, Lianthre

  Inns and Taverns - The Drunken Bear, Oribeth’s Tavern, Wayward inn, Bearded Dragon, Cusp of Hren, The Dockers, Well’s Footman, The Speckled Hare.

  Regions – Naeth (north), Spar (southern peninsula), Lare Woods, Lare Bog, (both south west, next to the spar) Culthorn Mountains (in the west), Fresh Woods (mid west), Gern’s Crest (mid east), Ulbridge (largely inconsequential Thanedom, south of the Fresh Woods), Carmille (Thanedom (small) to the west of Naeth), Kar (Thanedom), Mardon (Thanedom), Thaxamalan’s Saw (mountain range that separates Sturma from the frozen wastes in the north).

  Towns and Villages – Juxerton, Parhett, Trellham, Kertrich, the Wherry, Garveton, Turnmarket, Wanes Port, Haven

  Other places of note - Kus (the Cathedral on the Plains), Castle Karnell, or the Castle of Light – the Thane of Spar’s home.

  Astronomical Bodies of Note

  Moons – Hren and Gern

  Suns – Carious and Dow

  Planets – Rythe

  Constellations – The Field of Castles

  Mythology/Religion

  Brindle – God of thieves and goats.

  Dematron – King of gods.

  Madal’s Gate – The gates that all Sturmen must pass in death.

  Miskal – God of all that stands proud.

  Terase - God of childbirth.

  Reliquary

  The King’s Crest – A magical crown imbued with the memories of long-dead regents.

  The Ring of the Elethyn – Grants the wearer a ten-fold increase in their powers, but just a bauble to those not magically gifted.

  Bestiary

  Badgers – Furry stripped creature which snuffles close to the ground. Hence the colloquial ‘bearded badger’ or in the south ‘hairy as a badger’s snadgers’.

  Beavers - Web-footed creatures often found lurking in the southern marshes of Lianthre. Typically suffers from short-tempered bowel syndrome when in heat.

  Boars – Common to the woodlands and forests of Sturma, but not, as it turns out, that common, more well-to-do than some, you could say.

  Deer – Trapped gods in corporeal form, or just tasty meat?

  Dragon – ‘Don’t be daft, Poppins, dragons ain’t real, no matter what Gerald sez.’

  ‘But mam, he sed they’d eat me up if I don’t give him some of my sweets!’

  ‘Does he now? Eh? Well, you send him right on down here and I’ll teach him just what a dragon is. Go on, now.’

  (Where do these children get such fancies! In my day, it was the dreaded Hath’ku’atch…huh…well, ‘spose one day those boys’ll be old enough to tell truth from bard’s fancies…)

  Guryon – The planes’ assassin. Its myriad souls wreak havoc across the plains, but only for a price. It/they is/are (ooh, that could get boring…) no common murderer.

  Hath’ku’atch – A near mythical beast, in that they do, in fact, exist, but rarely bother to visit the mortal realms. Their usual abode is within bolts of lightning, and their visits are usually short. Occasionally, one stays for the duration of its life. No one knows why, or for what purpose, for they are mystical and do not deign to speak to mortals.

  Jemandril – Mythical beast with healing blood. See book for ‘Jemandril’s Tail’, tale, in this instance, not being a very cunning play on words, but I was tired, see, and I had this rash, and then I had to go to the physician for a balm, and when I came back, well, Farrell, the butcher, he’d turned up on my doorstep, and lo and behold, what did he have with him, but a barrel of ale and a quart of brandy…

  Landra – Woodland predator.
Likes wings, breasts, legs, and sometimes heads, but finds them a bit too crunchy when it’s teething.

  Mirs – Birds.

  Southern Tempaths – Four winged insects with a purple hue to their segmented bodies.

  Tarn – A black mir, with a white crest and blood-red hooked beak.

  The Lu – The soul swords, immortal guardians of the plane’s gaol. (Not bad looking, neither, after a couple of jars)

  Thrushes – Birds, although can also sometimes be used to describe varied forms of nasty discharges suffered by beavers.*

  *See Beavers.

  Valierion – The Thane of Naeth’s Goshawk. (Honourable mention)

  Botany of Sturma

  Ash – tree made of tree stuff, with leaves, and bark, and roots, but strangely, no ash.

  Carmillion – flower common to all lands of Rythe, although with subtle variations.

  Honey flower – Makes for good bowel relations, rather like a consulate. Or perhaps an embassy, should you already be on speaking terms. Favoured food of Beavers.

  Lanemot – A (hehe) hypnotic (wooh, a dragon…) herb, native to (my, you have warm breath) Sturma, characterised by (arrgh! My face is on fire!) a long stem with purple hanging flowers (oh, just a hallucinamation…hallucialation…bugger it. Ooh, the fairies are coming to tea!), but only in the autumn.

  Lud – Giant of the forests, the largest, most statuesque tree of all the nations, native to Lianthre but brought as saplings to Sturman shores by…

  ‘Ow! I’ll tell if I wanna!’

  ‘You do and I’ll break your arm!’

  ‘Wouldn’t!’

  ‘Would, too! Anyway, shut yer face!’

  ‘Wargh! Mam!’

  Oak – Bit boring really. Nice for crab apples, and acorns, which are good ammunition for woodland battles. Apart from that, just a sturdy tree.

  You asked. Didn’t say it would be interesting.

  Red spotted funnel – A mushroom with healing powers, but only brewed as a paste. Raw, it has the ultimate power to heal all that ails you.

  Saril vines – Nourishing in a gruel, but as it the way with gruels, they nourish but leave the palette rather underculinaried.

  Seer’s grass – Kun weed, grants the smoker insight into the mists of times, but tends to leave the smoker jaded and slightly detached from the real world. Sometimes the world beyond the veil can seem enticing, but take your time – we all get there eventually.

  Sickleberry Bush – The berries of which are used to promote good humours.

  *

  Bonus Material: A Short Story

  The Witch’s Cauldron

  ‘Father, why are you so afraid of witches?’ asked the small boy, his face red from the glow of the evening fire. Sparks crackled and glowing embers blew high on the wind.

  ‘I am not afraid of them, child, I am in awe,’ said his father, after quiet deliberation.

  ‘Tell me why,’ the child pestered him, with a child’s lack of sensibilities.

  ‘Very well, son, I will tell you, but you shall not sleep this night.’

  ‘Then tell me why,’ asked the child.

  ‘Then, if you insist, tell you I will.’

  And so, he told him the story his father told him.

  *

  In the darkness within the Pale Forest, there lurked a witch. The town folk from the nearby village of Cadrean called on her with their various ailments, some embarrassing, most not. She wasn’t well loved – it’s difficult to love a witch. She given to cackling for no reason. Witches don’t laugh like ordinary folk.

  You can’t have a man witch either, it has to be a woman. Perhaps the midwifery involved makes it important to be a woman. Men aren’t given to delivering babies. Leastways, not around Kilondor.

  Kilondor was the region of sunshine. Vast flat planes that cast no shadow were the perfect breeding grounds for horses, and the Thane of Kilondor was rich from this natural wealth. The region had no gold but everybody, all the other Thanes of course, needed horses. The Thane was a kind man, called Dandred by all who loved him. His wife was well known throughout the region for her alms. A kindly family, they were the most popular rulers on all of Faerdom.

  Faerdom itself was a pretty isle, located in the middle of the Grateful Seas. The ships that sailed to and fro were often lost in the storms that plagued the seas around it, making invasion all but impossible. Trade with the other lands was sparse. Peace had reigned for three hundred years.

  But the witch…

  The witch now, she was a different breed to the other people of Faerdom. The people of Cadrean called her friend though, despite her fey nature. They were not prone to superstition, like the other regions throughout the lands. The flat planes of Kilondor bred plain folk. They had no time for superstition. Birthing foals was taxing enough on the brain without filling it with nonsense and having that to cope with as well.

  The witch had no warts. She didn’t wear a funny hat. She did have three nipples but no one ever saw any of them so she could keep that to herself. The people of Kilondor were none to good at counting either, so if any of them noticed the extra finger she bore on each hand they said nothing of it. What business was it of theirs anyway?

  The witch had a name. She didn’t use it often. She hadn’t forgotten her name but everyone just called her the witch of Pale Forest. She didn’t have much to her name and wandered mainly, not making a home. If pushed she would have said that the Pale Forest was her home. It welcomed her like it welcomed no other. There was no other person in all of Faerdom who would have been welcome in the Pale Forest. It a murky, foreboding forest, full of demons and ghosts. Only those truly desperate came to seek out the witch of Pale Forest.

  One day the Thane of Dandred rode into the forest. He had a fretful look about him. His horse, at least seventeen hands high (the Thane could count) bore him swiftly past the town of Cadrean, leaving whispers in his wake. What was the Thane doing out here? And alone? He goes into the Pale Forest! He seeks the witch! The people of Cadrean had made gossip a hobby and before long the whole town knew the Thane had ridden into the Pale Forest alone. He could only be seeking the witch. The gossip mongers whispered themselves hoarse mulling the problem over. What could be so wrong for the Thane that he needed to seek the witch out? Surely a man like the Thane had everything that he could need.

  The Thane was unaware of the stir his passing caused. He rode on, ever slower as the thickets and brush closed in on him. The deeper into the forest he went the thicker the undergrowth became. Soon he was forced to dismount and lead his ashen horse behind him. Before long he would be forced to draw his sword to hack at the branches that obscured his path, but he was loath to do so. The witch’s wrath would be great indeed were he to cut back any of her beloved forest. He felt a wary misgiving at being in the forest at all. He had heard stories of the witch, a cold hard woman. Were it not for the direst need he wouldn’t be here at all. But his wife was with child and she had been bleeding for a whole day now. None of the physicians of the realm could do anything for her. They had all been called. There was nothing left but to call on the witch.

  The witch saw Dandred’s approach. She watched with interest as he drew closer to where she sat by the bole of a tree. She knew what he wanted. But she was loath to leave her forest. She got up.

  ‘Ho,’ she called to him. ‘What brings the Thane to visit an old lady in the woods?’

  The relief of finding her almost outweighed the dread the Thane felt. The witch always extracted her price. From those that couldn’t pay it was often just a lamb, or a carrot, or a turnip for her stew. For those that could the price was always higher.

  ‘I come to beg your aid, mistress.’

  The Thane bowed low as he said this, holding his sword back against his leg lest it clatter in an ungainly manner.

  ‘Mistress, is it? Your need must be dire indeed.’

  The Thane stood up straight and said to the witch, ‘I come not for me. I come for my wife. She is with child but she has
been bleeding. I need you to come and help her. If you will,’ he added with a care.

  ‘I will come, Dandred the Kind. But for you there will be a higher tithe. You are by all accounts a rich man.’

  ‘Any sum that I can pay will be yours. I only beg of you come quickly.’

  ‘The price is more than horses, my good man. I will let you know the price when the deed is done.’

  ‘And that sounds fair, mistress.’

  ‘Less of the mistress. I will meet you at your home.’

  ‘But it is urgent.’

  ‘I will meet you there. I can travel with haste if I need to.’

  ‘Very well.’ The Thane bowed low and led his horse from the forest. The forest closed in behind him as he walked. The light grew steadily until he emerged by the town of Cadrean. The people had all come out to watch him pass. None spoke to him, out of respect, but all wondered what the price would be.

  The Thane galloped as fast as he could back to his home, a large wooden house on the outskirts of Cadrean. His horse was sweating by the time it got him back, and there, on the front step, stood the witch, waiting for him.

  ‘I have been waiting for you,’ she called out to him as he approached. She was not out of breath, Dandred noted, even as he wondered why she would be. She arrived by magic, not by fleetness of foot, or he was a fool. And he considered himself no fool.