Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  He screeched, “Get away from me, all of you. Go mind your own affairs.”

  Count Silzeus offered help, “Would you like us to get you to your bed, highness?”

  “No, I’m fine. Not sure what happened but it must be because I haven’t eaten yet today. That’s probably it,” Ali-Stanley explained and looked at Ali-Samuel. “You and I need to talk.”

  Several guards helped the King secure his balance and Ali-Samuel turned to his Uncle Ryen. “Come with me.”

  His uncle silently nodded and they both followed Ali-Stanley into an audience chamber down the hallway. Ryen shut the door and they waited for the King to talk.

  “Word is coming back that you stabbed him in the back.”

  Ali-Samuel defended himself. “I did what was needed or he’d be half way back to Mattingly by now. Still alive and hungry for revenge on you.”

  Ali-Stanley rapidly shook his head, causing his loose neck to move back and forth. “This story can’t get around the realm or it will be a catastrophe. An ambush situation is bad enough, but then you killed him from behind.”

  “I did it to remove the thorn in your behind, don’t you see,” Ali-Samuel said with a smirk.

  “Enough with the jesting, this is a serious matter. We need a story that will uplift the entire kingdom and send a message that no one can defy the king. We need to provide hope for the people. Yes, that’s it, I’ve got it. We tell everyone that I defeated Duke Colbert in a duel. That would inspire the realm to love and respect their new king. I can hear it now. King Ali-Stanley defeated the dishonorable upstart to keep his crown. That sounds nice,” the King said.

  “But the remaining men know what happened,” Ali-Samuel countered.

  “I want all the names of the men that were out there. I already know most of them, so don’t try to lie to your King,” Ali-Stanley commanded.

  Ali-Samuel screamed, “But it won’t be close to any truth. Everyone saw Jasper in the tourney and they know you aren’t exactly a swordsman. We need a more believable story than trying to convince people you defeated him in a duel.”

  The King started to spew venom with his words. “How dare you suggest that? I am the King. You bow to me. I should have you quartered right along the Royal Road and throw your pieces into the pile of dead Mattingly men. You do as I say and this is the story you are commanded to use. Anyone who states differently will suffer the consequences. I have spies everywhere and they tell me everything.”

  Ali-Samuel couldn’t hold his tongue. “People aren’t going to believe this lie, uncle.”

  The King snapped. “I am the King, the King, you hear. That’s how you address me. I wish they had smashed your head on those steps a long time ago.”

  I know you won’t have me killed around the Capitol. It’s too personal for you. I know that you still feel guilty over having my father thrown out of the realm. You want to passively try to have me killed by sending me into war and hoping that I don’t return.

  The Falconer walked in, but it didn’t break the tension in the room. He said, “Your highness, my lord. What seems to be the problem?”

  The King spoke, “We are avoiding a public disaster. We can’t let it get out that the castle bastard stabbed our enemy in the back.”

  Ali-Samuel defended himself, “First, I stabbed him in the side, not the back, although I did come from behind him. What do you know about battle?” He asked, staring at the King. “You weren’t out there. You didn’t see that we were about to lose.”

  The King yelled, “We weren’t going to lose. He had one hundred men many leagues from home. He should have been defeated much easier. If only I had been there to make sure everything went according to plan. You messed up our plan and then had to stab another man in the back to cover up your negligence. And what are you even doing here? In fact, you two get out of here, I’m through with both of you,” he said, referring to Ryen and Ali-Samuel.

  As they left, two guards entered the room and left the door cracked.

  Ryen said, “I can’t say I’m shocked, surprised perhaps, but he is definitely Ali-Baster’s son. Start up the falsities early in the reign, I guess. I have to think he would handle things differently if he had more of his wits in place.”

  The two men parted ways and Ali-Samuel went back to the King’s audience chamber. He stood outside the door.

  The King’s voice echoed into the hallway. “I want them both dead, questioning me. Send Ryen to the Burkeville Border Wars and we’ll send Ali-Samuel back to the Pearl Islands. He survived his first trip to the Islands, but we need to be certain he doesn’t return this time. Send Ali-Samuel with a small company and start them on reasonable assignments. Then we will send him into sure death. With Ryen, we might need someone on our side to take care of him. He presents the biggest threat to my claim.”

  Is he mad or just plain evil? These seem like well thought out plans to eliminate the outcasts of the castle. We are the only ones that won’t blindly follow him into stupid situations. I’m not going to die at war. Best of luck to all those that stay in the Capitol, especially the inept King.

  The King continued, “I want anyone who witnessed the killing of Jasper Colbert rounded up. If they agree to advance our story, they live. If not, you know what to do. I want criers dispatched immediately to deliver the message of the duel so it will be the first story the citizens hear.”

  Within a week, the King had heard from his sources that all the eye-witnesses had remained honorable and wouldn’t lie. He rewarded their honesty with a quick death. Ali-Samuel was on his way to the Pearl Islands again and Ryen rode west for the border wars. Ali-Stanley even sent Tersen to serve as the High Lord of Cloverfoot. The King had eliminated his biggest threats…for now.

  Eight

  One Year Later…

  The short young man sneaked up to the docks. He spied the glimmer in the merchant’s hand and his heart thumped with excitement. The tall, wind-knot salesman shoved the object into his pocket and rushed away from the markets.

  The red-headed soldier from Donegal truly believed this might finally be the one and followed at a brisk pace. After an entire year on the dreaded mountain-filled islands, he had just seen the object every man had been hunting for the past five hundred years.

  The tall, bald merchant, who wore a long cloak, looked around for possible trouble before nonchalantly heading into the woods. Ali-Samuel crept over to the tree line and the man holding a giant pearl didn’t see him.

  The man was so entranced by the stunning object that he was nearly drooling over it. Ali-Samuel took his long bow from his shoulder. He started to pull an arrow but it got stuck on the way out of the bag. His small struggle with the quiver attracted the merchant’s attention and he spotted Ali-Samuel.

  He immediately took off at a smart pace, swerving back and forth in a jagged pattern to avoid an arrow attack. As Ali-Samuel readied his bow, he noticed the man was repeating the same back and forth pattern. He knocked and drew back as his arm started to shake from nervousness.

  He held, held, held. Led his target and let fly. The released arrow ripped through the developing dusk and found its mark in the pearl holder’s back. It pierced the bald man’s heart and he dropped, but fought hard to ward off death. Ali-Samuel ran up to the screaming man, who was trying to get back onto his feet. The merchant rose to his knees and suddenly turned into black liquid and hydrated the thirsty soil.

  Ali-Samuel stepped back in shock. He had heard stories as a young boy about the coldomores on the Pearl Islands. Their name came from the Scribenese language from thousands of years ago and it meant cold and black-hearted. Count Silzeus regularly told tales of the skin-changing demons that came from Venom Island.

  The coldomores would take over a human or animal’s actions and soul when they invaded the body. The castle Count had said that the coldomores turned into black blood and ran inside the earth, searching for their master, Travibero. Only the clothes of the demon remained in a pile on the ground without a trace of t
he living being it had invaded.

  He shook off the strangeness of the moment and pushed the dirty clothes around as he searched for the ultimate prize. There it lay, glowing in the fading daylight, mesmerizing Ali-Samuel. A huge smile spread over his face for the first time in months. He bent down and picked up the Pearl of Wisdom. It was as big as the purple fire balls they used in battle, just as the Captain had said. It glittered with gold speckles that captivated the young man’s blue eyes. This could really help him gain the respect he was searching for.

  “Everyone’s attitudes will surely change when I stroll in with the Pearl of Wisdom and my dragons,” Ali-Samuel thought out loud.

  On the walk back to the Donegal camp site, he thought about trying to use the Pearl of Wisdom to summon the dragons for his own personal use. Ali-Samuel had trouble understanding why he should return it to King Ali-Stanley, the man who had always hated him. The King would be powerless to stop him if the stories about the Pearl of Wisdom were true.

  The legend said that if one chanted “Boloteeso” seven times and held the Pearl up to the sky, the dragons would submit themselves to the holder’s command. No, Ali-Samuel finally decided, he was going to act with honor even though the King had treated him like a servant.

  The Pearl hadn’t been used in nearly five hundred years, which was when a force headed by a man named Rockarius had annihilated the Damian Doome-led demon fighters. Almost every man and woman in the world knew the name Rockarius, and soon they would remember the name Ali-Samuel Wamhoff. He thought about the reception he would get in every kingdom in the world. Kings would treat him like a hero and men would throw their daughters at Ali-Samuel’s feet.

  He stopped dreaming as he neared the campsite. He saw Captain Fulbont and walked toward him with a big smile. Ali-Samuel quietly steered the Captain into a vacant tent.

  “What is going on? You never smile.” The Captain looked suspiciously at Ali-Samuel.

  “Feast your eyes on this.” Ali-Samuel pulled the Pearl from his pocket to show the Captain.

  “Allow me to hold it.” Captain Fulbont held out his hand and Ali-Samuel reluctantly placed the shining object in his palm. Its reflection glimmered in the Captain’s eyes.

  “It’s fake,” Captain Fulbont said dismissively.

  “What do you mean it is a fake? I got it from a coldomore, I will have you know.” Ali-Samuel’s face turned bright red, almost as fiery auburn as his hair.

  “I don’t care if you got it from Rockarius himself, it is a good fake, but still isn’t real nevertheless.”

  The Captain tried to leave but Ali-Samuel stopped him. He had a skinny body frame, but Ali-Samuel seemed to have some unusual power for a man of his stature.

  “How do you know?” Ali-Samuel tried to be calm but his hopes and dreams were crashing inside his head.

  “Run your hands carefully over it. The gold is painted onto the surface, feel it. It definitely has the look and size, but it has been painted to give the appearance of the Pearl of Wisdom. I would like it to be real as much as you, but that doesn’t seem to be in the stars.” The Captain patted Ali-Samuel on the shoulder and exited the tent.

  Respect and fortune had just slipped through the sweaty fingers of Ali-Samuel Wamhoff. The past year of endless fighting on four different islands where hundreds of men claimed to hold the Pearl, had been getting tiresome. He had tracked the merchant for the past week from the tips he had received from a self-proclaimed wizard named The Crippler. This giant pearl was supposed to be an end to the madness, but he was right back at the start.

  The Captain poked his head into the tent. “Let’s go, Ali-Samuel. We just got solid word about someone who has the real Pearl on the west side of the island. Pack up so we can leave as soon as possible.”

  Ali-Samuel lowered his head and slowly followed the crew as they broke down the campsite. He realized that he was being naïve. Some men had spent over fifty years searching for the Pearl of Wisdom and he thought that he had already found it. It appeared that his foreseeable future would be spent on these rocky islands, fighting for an invisible pearl.

  Several weeks later, Ali-Samuel entered the meeting pavilion and took a seat across from Captain Reddick and Fulbont. Three other high-ranking members of the royal force sat around the table.

  Captain Fulbont said, “We’ve just received orders straight from the King. We’re supposed to attack Willow Valley and the Black Jackets of Havasu.”

  Ali-Samuel objected, “That’s certain death. They have over five hundred on their side, we have seventy.”

  There it is. Can’t believe it took this long. I thought the mad King would have come to his senses and realized he needs an asset like me. I wonder if Ryen is still alive?

  The Captain said, “I don’t agree with the order, but our King must know something we don’t. If he is confident, then so am I.”

  I know something you don’t. You are being sacrificed to get rid of me. Don’t be a fool, Captain.

  The other men were less than enthused about the endeavor.

  The Captain stood up and announced, “We leave tomorrow. No questions.”

  Three days later, Ali-Samuel stared at a huge mass of screaming enemy soldiers across the open field of orange dirt. His company was outnumbered by several hundred, but the Captain insisted they carry out the King’s command.

  He heard the call of ‘Charge’ and the thundering herd raced toward the men from Donegal. His side started to race toward the enemy but Ali-Samuel remained at a trot. When every man had passed, Ali-Samuel Wamhoff fell down. He waited until both sides engaged each other and he got up and ran in the other direction.

  He ran until he could barely breathe and the sounds of the brawl off in the distance were almost silenced. The slaughter was all but over as the victory chants of the Black Jackets erupted.

  He peered around and didn’t see anyone, but being alone on the Seventh Island could be extremely dangerous. He needed to find a port or harbor but he didn’t have any coin. He would need to rob somebody to get ship fare and Ali-Samuel didn’t even know where he was on the island.

  He walked in the direction he thought was south but there weren’t any landmarks that would confirm that idea. He exited the heavy woods and walked into an open area. A noise sounded from behind and he turned around. Three people emerged from the woods and he darted off in the opposite direction. The muffled conversation amongst the people was drowned out by a crack of thunder.

  He ran at full speed until he came to a sudden stop just before he veered back into the forest. He didn’t want to stop, but his body wouldn’t move. He could form thoughts, see and hear what was going on, but he couldn’t move.

  A voice from behind asked, “Are you going to let him move again, Gamelda?”

  “Of course, but we should talk to him first to make sure he doesn’t bolt again,” a woman’s voice replied.

  An odd group appeared in front of him. A tall, ugly man with a hideous scar on his face stood next to a dark-skinned beauty and a dwarf. The hauntingly beautiful woman looked out of place with the two rough-looking men.

  “Do you recognize me?” the big man asked. Before Ali-Samuel could answer, he said, “I guess that’s a stupid question when you can’t respond. I am your father and I am sorry for the way everything worked out. I wanted to raise you myself, but it wasn’t meant to be. I thought I would never see you again. My son.”

  Gamelda released her magical grip on Ali-Samuel and his momentum caused him to fall forward. His father helped him up, and he stared into the mismatched eyes of the scar-faced man.

  Is he telling the truth? Why would someone make this up?

  The confused young man asked, “Why here? Why now?”

  “I’m not exactly welcome in Donegal and the world can be a big place, of course. I understand that you might not want to speak with me. Let me explain a bit. The reason I left you was because I would have died trying to save you and I knew the Queen and Ryen would be able to protect you better than
I. I had a bounty on my head. Still do, I believe. I didn’t want to make you a target as well.”

  Ali-Samuel remarked, “Looks like someone got you pretty good with a knife, no that’s too wide, is that from a sword?”

  “Some ornery pirateer almost did me in when I was as young as you.” Ali-Steven rubbed his hand over the nasty scar.

  Ali-Samuel asked, “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “I’ve been hunting the Pearl of Wisdom for a while now. I’ve joined several companies and run into these two several times now. This is Dragon-Eyes and this is Gamelda.”

  “You’re the wizard from all the stories?” Ali-Samuel wondered.

  “Yes and no. I am the subject of the stories, but they tend to read more like tales of wonder.”

  Ali-Steven said, “He does have an acute penchant for finding out information. He figured out you were on the islands and we’ve been following you for the better portion of a month now. We were even going to pull you from that suicide attack that you wisely ran from. We finally had a proper opportunity when you were alone.”

  Ali-Samuel asked, “Did you know that your father is dead?”

  “I did. The little man can procure information from great distances. I thought it might make me feel better. It didn’t. Nothing will bring back your mother,” the big man uttered in an emotional tone.

  Ali-Samuel informed him. “I killed all the men involved in her murder.”

  “And how did that make you feel?” his father asked.

  “I didn’t feel anything. It felt the same as killing a faceless man in battle. They made me squire for Sir Arthur, who reminded me of the incident all the time. I thought I would feel better when I got revenge for us, but I didn’t,” Ali-Samuel confessed.