A Crumble of Walls (The Kin of Kings Book 4)
Page 1
Contents
TITLE PAGE
MAPS
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
NEW RELEASES
AUTHOR INFORMATION
A CRUMBLE OF WALLS
BOOK 4 OF THE KIN OF KINGS SERIES
Copyright 2016 by B.T. Narro
Cover Art by Beatriz Garrido: www.beatrizggarrido.wix.com/illustrator
Maps by Annette Tremblay
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder.
CHAPTER ONE
Sanya read the mysterious note left on her pillow enough times to memorize it. “I know who you are, S. Come to the dungeons at midnight. Follow the torches once you’re there. If you don’t show up, I will notify Tauwin.”
“S,” it said. Whoever wrote it did seem to know her. “Midnight. The empty dungeons.” He or she, probably he, wanted to lure her to a place they wouldn’t be seen by others in the castle. He would either threaten her further or attempt to harm her. She was confident she could handle either, but waiting for midnight proved to be difficult as she paced around her apartment in the castle. She’d never been patient.
For hours, her mind had raced with panicked thoughts that she might be forced to kill this person or leave the castle for good. Now it was finally time to find out. She hurried down the quiet halls as best she could with her loose black robes getting in the way of her feet.
Escaping the secret room with the hidden weapon of death had shredded her last concealing outfit, but Ulric had given her new robes of black silk that didn’t grate against her skin like the cheap linen she had before. It wasn’t much of a gift from a man so rich, but she’d never received something so expensive and would cherish it as if he’d sewn it himself.
Her silver mask had not been damaged. It would continue to hide her face as it had before, but she feared that whoever left the note had recognized her from the way she moved about the castle. She could think of only one person who knew her that well and was observant enough to figure her out. Tauwin’s mother, Kithala. But Kithala was one of the few people Sanya couldn’t bring herself to kill.
She wished, instead, that it was a psychic who awaited her, someone who’d spent enough time around her when she was engaged to Tauwin to recognize her energy again now that she’d returned to the castle. Someone like that might want money or something else of value. She could handle such a request by taking care of him quietly.
Her opportunity to steal control of Kyrro from Tauwin was as dead as her mother, Lori. Sanya would stay at Ulric’s side, eventually proving that she deserved to be one of his most trusted advisors. Soon the war would be over, and Ulric would take control from Tauwin.
She didn’t know Ulric’s full plan. She hoped she could formulate one with him that would allow her to have the honor of executing Tauwin. He needed to pay for the damage he’d done to her and all of Kyrro.
And I do as well.
Damn her guilt.
She wondered how long it would take, once the war was over, for Kyrro to return to its former glory. She supposed it depended on how the war ended. If Tauwin remained king, the people would continue to be hungry and unruly. She couldn’t imagine them any less volatile than ocean waves in a stormy sea, with the castle a sturdy ship struggling to stay afloat. Would it sink or would the waves calm? It would be one terrible storm.
Could Ulric be behind this note? He was a cunning man, but devious plots involving threatening notes didn’t seem his style, especially when Sanya was the target. She’d felt his energy after she’d escaped from the room containing the weapon. He genuinely cared for her.
That weapon. She didn’t have to ask Ulric if he’d removed it yet. She still felt it there in the bowels of the castle, creating a sour taste deep in her throat and a throb in her chest. She felt weakened by that dark energy. It was too close, even when she was in her quarters high above.
In the short time since the weapon had nearly killed her, she’d suffered frequent bouts of terror. Her whole body would tremble, then a fire would ignite in her stomach. After rushing to the nearest lavatory to relieve herself, she would calm her speeding heart in private, where she was able to remove her stifling mask.
Sanya continued to follow the torches, reaching out with psyche to sense for life. Shadows lurked in every corner. The squeaks of rats echoed around her. She was not afraid. She was not afraid.
Eventually she came to a circle on the ground made by chalk. “Stand here and wait” was written within.
She took her place and strained her mind to feel for energy in the same way she might strain her ears to listen for footsteps.
She detected someone’s energy behind the wall to her left. She tried to read the energy, connect to it, but through the wall the task was like trying to make out words in the dark.
A muffled voice called out. “Sanya, who else knows how you conceal yourself in this castle?”
She didn’t answer as she tried to recognize the voice. It seemed to belong to a man, though it could’ve been a woman distorting her voice to sound like one.
Whoever it was had to be a psychic. That was the only way he could tell she was standing on the other side of the wall in this narrow hallway. She put her hands against the stone to search for a hidden doorway like the one that had opened to the chamber containing the weapon.
“Answer me, or Tauwin finds out who you are,” the voice threatened.
“Who are you?” she asked to buy herself more time to search.
“Answer the question!”
Definitely a man.
She searched almost all the wall near her and found nothing. “If you answer a question of mine,” she said, “I will answer you. Why did you summon me down here?”
She didn’t hear him as she ran down the hall, took a left, ran down another hall, then took another left. She felt the wall for anywhere that had give and finally found it. Level with her knees, one part of the stone sank into the wall as she pushed. She turned the heavy wall enough to fit through, though the sheer blackness ahead made her stop. She went back to fetch a torch.
“You will stop and get back in the circle!” yelled the voice, “or I will kill you.”
No you won’t.
In his panic, the man wasn’t able to keep his voice low enough to disguise it anymore. She recognized the sound of Yeso’s tenor even before she broug
ht the torch within the room. Of course it was him. She should’ve known. The Elf was loyal to Ulric to a fault, guarding him like an aggressive dog unable to tell friend from foe. He probably saw Sanya as a threat to his position or to his master.
“I know it’s you, Yeso,” she called from the gap in the wall. “Come out here.”
She felt his energy for signs of aggression. There was a bit of anger, but mostly he was embarrassed.
He slinked out and faced her. She took off her mask to show she was unafraid.
“Why the note?” she demanded.
“Ulric needed to test your loyalty.”
She could feel it was a lie, but she didn’t call him on it. “How is this supposed to test my loyalty?”
“We needed to see what you would do to keep yourself from being caught, and whether you would come to us for help.”
He keeps saying “we” and “us,” but all of this was his decision. So Ulric knew nothing of this clandestine meeting.
“You still don’t trust me.”
“I don’t, but I know why Ulric does. He can’t sense what I can.” Yeso patted his closed fist against his chest. “I can feel you’re hiding something. At first I thought it was your ability to manipulate bastial energy, but even after that came out, I still felt you wanting something. What is it?”
“I want only to be allowed to live in the castle and serve Ulric by giving counsel.” She changed her energy to hide her lie. “And of course I want Tauwin dead. Then I can live freely.” So long as you and everyone who wants vengeance on me is dead. She couldn’t think about that predicament right now.
“You’ll be left alone when you’ve proven your loyalty and worth.”
“You’re such an irritation. How am I to prove those things?”
“You were to be ordered to leave the castle without telling Ulric. Just disappear. I was to threaten you once more with telling Tauwin of your identity if you disobeyed. Ulric and I needed to see how much trouble you might cause if your goal was threatened. Now—”
“Stop lying.” She couldn’t contain her irritation any longer. “This was solely your idea. You want me gone and thought this way would be a cleaner method than killing me. Afterward, you planned to tell Ulric I ran off because someone figured out who I was.”
Yeso’s face normally was put together nicely until times like these, when anger flared his nostrils and tightened his mouth. “Ulric needs something from you. I was going to tell you what it is once you’d proven your loyalty.”
“Just take me to him.”
“He’s sleeping.”
“In the morning, then.”
“He’ll be too busy tomorrow to deal with you. You must tell me what he needs to know.”
She was surprised to find Yeso was telling the truth, at least as he saw it. She doubted Ulric would’ve bluntly said, “I’m too busy to deal with Sanya.”
“Ulric is certain Tauwin will send an assassin for him soon,” the Elf continued, his face contorting as if in pain. “We need to be certain who he will send.” Yeso looked hard into her eyes. “Who is it?”
Finally. A task that only she could help them with that didn’t involve a threat to her life.
She should’ve figured Tauwin would send an assassin sooner or later. Then she could’ve had an answer ready for Yeso. Now she was forced to think quickly as he stared impatiently.
She thought of the least trustworthy people to Ulric first, Stanmar and Cheot, who had both shown a penchant for betrayal. Cheot had betrayed the first king, James Kerr, by allowing Tauwin to storm into the castle with his army. But Stanmar was more dangerous, because while Cheot was satisfied to be Tauwin’s most trusted councilman, the army commander would do anything to increase his power. If he thought Tauwin would win this battle of the Takarys, Stanmar would switch sides again. But would he do something as foolish as sneaking into Ulric’s room and stabbing him as he slept? No, and neither would Cheot.
Both men might send someone else, though, on Tauwin’s behalf. No, the young king was foolish at times, but not foolish enough to surrender such a decision to anyone else. He would select the assassin himself.
“You don’t know the answer,” Yeso said.
“Give me a moment. You want the right person, don’t you?” He didn’t reply to her rhetorical question. “Then don’t rush me.”
Tauwin would pick someone he trusted wholeheartedly. That limited his choices to his psychics and his family. His mother would never take on such a task, and Sanya doubted Tauwin had any aunts, uncles, or cousins who would kill another Takary. That meant it had to be a psychic.
Bliss. If she were still alive, she’d be the prime suspect. Memories of that annoyingly beautiful young woman ground away at Sanya’s mind. She had made so many mistakes. Too many were decisions based on what she’d felt in her heart instead of her head. She’d known it was wrong to bring back her mother from the dead, especially when Nick, Alex, and others had to die for Sanya to accomplish it. But she’d stayed true to her goal no matter the cost, and now there was no chance of redemption.
But there was also little left to lose.
Whoever she named as Tauwin’s assassin would certainly be killed, yet Sanya couldn’t summon any sympathy. His psychics were strange and unemotional, doing nothing more than detecting lies. Sanya imagined the type of people who wanted to live like that as having little joy.
Then again, how happy was she? Her life had become one grab for power after another. What had her ambition brought her besides heartache and guilt? Why do my thoughts always sink into hopelessness? And at the worst times.
“The assassin is the psychic who Rockbreak nearly killed,” Sanya finally informed Yeso. “Tauwin would assume this man will want vengeance for the embarrassment Ulric caused him, and killing Ulric would prove to Tauwin and to the psychic himself that he’s more capable than Ulric made him seem.”
“Good, I agree. You will kill him tomorrow.”
What?
Yeso folded his arms. “This is a demand from Ulric.”
“How do I know you’re not lying again?” she asked, already knowing he was.
“That this comes from Ulric?” Yeso acted surprised and confused. “Why would I lie about that?”
“Because you’ve admitted you want me gone. I’m likely to fail and be executed. I know nothing of assassinations.”
Yeso squinted as if in concentration. He suddenly reached up and grabbed her head. An invasion of psyche tore through her mind. She’d put up a wall between the energy her body produced and what she’d let Yeso read, but it crumbled under the weight of his power. She was completely vulnerable.
“Say it again!” Yeso yelled through his teeth as he dug his fingers into her scalp. She grabbed his wrist and struggled to stay on her knees as agony overwhelmed her.
She could easily break the bastial energy around them, then take the knife concealed in her robe and end Yeso right now. But how would she explain it to Ulric? She couldn’t hope to kill Yeso without getting blood on her robe, and the castle staff was sure to find traces even if she laundered the silk herself.
“Again!” Yeso repeated. “Tell me you know nothing of assassinations. Lie to me again!”
The bastard Elf must’ve felt something in her energy she’d failed to mask. She fell to her knees as pain sapped her strength. It felt as if every muscle was twisting to the point of tearing.
He reached in her robe and found her knife. He clicked his tongue as if disappointed as he discarded it, then searched her for more weapons.
“You can die from pain,” he said. “Your heart can stop. Your body gives up, knowing that death is the only relief.”
She grunted in anger. Even without the dagger, she could kill him. She wanted to get her hands on his head as he did hers. She would slam it against the wall until he stopped moving. She just had to break the energy. It was as easy as snapping her fingers, but what would become of her after the Elf was dead?
She would have to run.
I might have to anyway if I agree to carry out the assassination, but I’ll definitely have to flee if I kill Yeso.
She reached up and grabbed Yeso’s wrists, but she hadn’t the strength to push him away.
“Say it!” he demanded.
“I know about assassinations,” she admitted.
He smiled smugly as he let the spell come to a blissful end. Sanya sprawled on the cold stone as her chest heaved. She felt as if she’d been released from a coffin.
“You can keep your secrets so long as you do what you’re told,” he said. “But if you go against me—and I know you’re smart enough to understand what I mean by that—the two of us will have a conversation with Ulric, and he will hear the truth about your past. Much more than I heard tonight.”
He plans to pain me again in front of Ulric. The important question was whether Yeso would do it even if she killed the psychic whose name she hadn’t cared to learn. She was glad for that now, as it seemed that murdering him would be her best option.
“You don’t seem to care if the man I kill turns out to be innocent,” she said.
“Neither do you.”
He left her panting on the floor, but not before kicking her dagger back to her.
Anger roiled in her chest. She sat up and grabbed her weapon by its hilt. It took all of her restraint not to chase Yeso down and plunge her blade into his chest.
CHAPTER TWO
Freezing rain sapped all the heat from Basen’s body. There were two endless lines of people, and Basen and his father stood between them. Abith put himself at the front of one, while Terren crouched at the head of the other, reaching for his sword slowly with all eyes upon him.
“Don’t, Terren,” Basen whispered, realizing he was in a dream yet unable to wake up.
The Academy headmaster didn’t listen as his fingers crept over the hilt of his sword. He charged Abith.
“Stop!” Basen yelled, but the rain beating down was too loud for him to be heard. Abith grinned. He would kill Terren in front of everyone and enjoy it.
The Redfield bell rang out as the two men clashed swords. For a breath, everyone was still.