by C. K. Rieke
The Dragon Sands Box Set
Books I - III
C.K. Rieke
Contents
Books by C.K. Rieke
Map of The Arr
Assassin Born
Assassin Born Cover
I. Taken, Trained and Tormented
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
II. A Kiss, and a Bitter Goodbye
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
III. The Gift of the Gods
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
IV. Return to the Sands
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
V. The Dragon's Breath
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
VI. Into the Darkness
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Revenge Song
Revenge Song Cover
I. Family Strife
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
II. Poison and Arrows of White
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
III. Dune of the Last Dragon
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
IV. Kôrran’s Last Gift, and the Hunt Begins
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
V. Curse and Betrayal
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
VI. The Witch Queen
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Serpentine Risen
Serpentine Risen Cover
I. An Unlikely Alliance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
II. The Great Divide
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
III. Ripples of the Past
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
IV. Where Sunlight Fades
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
V. Where Evil Dwells
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
VI. The Return of Dragons
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Continue Reading
Author’s Notes from Assassin Born
Author’s Notes from Revenge Song
Author’s Notes from Serpentine Risen
About the Author
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Books by C.K. Rieke
The Dragon Sands Book I:
Assassin Born
The Dragon Sands Book II:
Revenge Song
The Dragon Sands Book III:
Serpentine Risen
The Dragon Sands Book IV:
War Dragons
The Path of Zaan Book I:
The Road to Light
The Path of Zaan Book II:
The Crooked Knight
The Path of Zaan Book III:
The Devil King
By Sword and Sea: A Novella
This novel was published by Crimson Cro Publishing
Copyright © 2019 Hierarchy LLC
All Rights Reserved.
Covers by C.K. Rieke and Heather Brantman.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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By Sword and Sea
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To Laura Kingsley
Who helped me ascend to where I am today with your knowledge and skill. Your passion for the written word was truly inspiring.
Rest in peace.
Assassin Born
Part I
Taken, Trained and Tormented
Chapter One
1430 Sisen Era, The Arr, Unknown Desert Region
In the desert lands of the Arr blood flowed freer than water most nights.
Silver stars in the dark sky glittered down their soft old tales. Tales of wise men long lost, dragons sweeping through the sky with cringing roars that echoed for miles, and of gods who ruled with the might of a great mountain. Cool winds whipped over the rolling dunes of the sands, with a dull whistling pitch.
At the base of the largest of the dunes, under the sharp crescent moon that loomed directly overhead, emitted a warm glow from a fire. Encircling that fire were a ring of tents, warmed by the golden glow. The wind rustled the tents slightly, and as the bite of the wind grew chill the men and women huddled around the fire swept into their tents. One by one the tents lit up with the faint glow of candlelight. The animals surrounding the tents rustled themselves in a tight group, letting out soothing neighs.
To the small caravan the night seemed serene, but there was always a tension within the people of the caravan. They knew the danger of being out upon the open sands, but it was all they’d ever known. This night, however, it wasn’t only the winds that would sweep down from the dunes onto the caravan.
In one of the tents was a young girl who lay awake as her family slept soundly. She let her fingers drift over the lig
ht of a lit candle that sat next to her, watching their shadows glide along the top of the canvas tent. They rolled along the ceiling like the rippling of cool water in a small pond. The girl smacked her lips from thirst. A gust of cool wind blew under the front flap of the tent, and tiny pebbles of sand jostled along the lavishly colored tapestry on the floor.
Then, curving her fingers she made a shadow that resembled the two humps of an Iox, an animal with four curling horns on its head and hump on its tall back. The girl giggled as she watched the Iox as it bounced across the canvas.
“Lilaci,” she heard her father say in a gruff voice. “What are you doing up still?”
“Father, I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
“Come,” he said. She stood up and walked over toward her father’s cot, she looked at him then, his face was clean, washed before bed. His skin was dark, his hair long and thick, and his eyes were a soft brown. Lilaci stepped over her sister and brother who lay asleep next to their father, and she crawled in next to him.
He wrapped his arm around her and Lilaci snuggled in next to him. “Why are you awake, my daughter? There’s plenty of time to be awake under the hot sun in the sands, and we begin our walking tomorrow again—”
“I don’t know father, my mind won’t slow tonight. Sometimes I have trouble shutting away my thoughts.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “What are you thinking of this time of night?”
“I was wondering how long we have to walk the sands. Will it have to go on forever?”
Her father looked up at the top of the tan, canvas tent, and dipped his fingers by the candlelight, they cast long shadows onto it. “I don’t have the answer to that question.”
“Is it because of me?” Lilaci said in a soft, sad voice. I can’t help but feel a guilt in my heart. A guilt that my brother and sister have to walk the sands because of me. They just want a home with their family, as I do. Maybe they could have a house of stone in one of the cities if it wasn’t for me.
Her father’s hand turned from outstretched fingers to a soft fist, and he brought his hand back down to his side. “Listen, why don’t you go back off to sleep? You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.”
“What’re you two going on about?” Lilaci’s mother asked from the other side of her father.
“Nothing,” her father said. “Lilaci was just going back to sleep.”
“Everything okay?” her mother asked her. Her eyes were delicate and kind.
A tear rolled down Lilaci’s cheek and her lips quivered. “I’m sorry. It's my fault we have to walk. I wish my brother and sister could live in one of the great cities, full of fresh water and food. It’s my fault.”
Her mother sat up and gently wiped the tear from her face. Lilaci looked into her mother’s loving dark eyes, with her graying, black hair dipped in from of them. “Don’t you say things like that. You know we are out here with the others, because we are a family, and we need to stick together. The rest of the Arr doesn’t understand that you’re just a girl— just a normal girl. Just because you were born— different— from the other children.”
Lilaci noticed her father looking at her with a somber gaze. “Your mother is right, you’re our daughter, that’s it, so we’ll stick together. And you wait, you’ll see, that someday we’ll find a place to call home. The Arr is a big place, Lilaci.”
“You mean it?” Lilaci said. “You think we’ll find a home that my little brother and sister can rest?”
He nodded with a smile and embraced her. Lilaci closed her eyes, felt the love of her father towards her, and her mother leaned over and wrapped her arms around the both of them.
Then, with the fury and quickness of a searing lightning strike, they came . . .
Lilaci heard the blood-curdling screams, the pleas for mercy, and the ringing of sharp metal as it found its way into soft flesh. She watched as her father leapt to his feet and unsheathed his sword from its scabbard that rested at his side. Her mother brought in Lilaci and her siblings, clutching them in tightly. Her father looked back at her mother with eyes that burned into Lilaci. I’ve never seen his eyes like this. He’s afraid. I’ve never seen fear in my father like this. I feel like my life is being sucked out of me. I can’t breathe, my heart is beating out of my chest. My mother is holding me so tight, I can’t move. I’ve never been so afraid in all my life.
Then a man shot in through the front flaps of the tent like a bitter wind. His eyes were dark and his white teeth gleamed as he smiled a wicked smile. Lilaci’s father’s eyes darted back towards the man, and he lunged forth with his sword. In a swift motion of thick steel reflected in candlelight, Lilaci watched as her father’s sword fell to the ground. He lunged towards his attacker, but he was thwarted by a sword thrust into his chest. “Father!” Lilaci screamed in panic. Her brother and sister wept in terror.
Blood rolled down his back, with a growing crimson stain on his shirt. He turned just enough to look into his wife’s eyes, and then he fell to the ground with a thud on the tapestry. A light puff of sand rose as he did so.
“Father, no!” Lilaci tried to go to him, but her mother, who was crying and screaming uncontrollably, held her back.
Lilaci looked up to see the man who’d killed her father. He was tall and slender, with white skin like the color of the moon, he had a black widow’s peak that ran down his forehead, and he held a long dagger, now covered in blood. His eyes were dark, not dark in color, but in spirit, as if he had no soul.
He looked at Lilaci, not paying mind to the rest of her family. “There you are,” he said with a menacing grin.
She stood up, “Take me, but leave my family alone. Please don’t hurt them anymore.”
“Lilaci, no!” her mother cried.
“We are going to take you,” he said. “. . . We’re going to take whatever we want.” With that, two other men walked into the tent’s flaps. Lilaci could hear many other screams from the rest of the caravan, it sounded like a slaughter outside.
The man grabbed Lilaci by the shoulders, and ripped her from her mother’s arms. Another one led her two siblings out of the tent violently.
She fought, but she couldn’t match the strength of the men that came into her tent. Lilaci was bound and put atop the back of one of their Ioxi easily, and she endured a worse torture than the grasp of death could have given her. She sat there, bound and blindfolded, gushing tears, having to listen to the slaughter, unable to help her family. Her mother screamed for help, and plead for mercy, but she received neither. Please, if there are any merciful gods left, please help me. Help my family. Make this all a nightmare that I may wake up from, and hold my family tight, and tell them I love them one more time. Let me help my mother in her torture, let me lift a sword with my father and fight off these marauders. Let me grow old with my siblings so that I may protect them. Or— lay your pity on me, and let me feel this pain no more. If I don’t perish from this, be merciful, and take me now. I can’t take any more of this.
Lilaci screamed until her voice cracked and broke. She fell off the Iox, and landed on the hard dirt ground, and sand rustled into her hair and mouth. “Mother, please don’t hurt my mom anymore . . . Don’t hurt my—"
The gods may have heard her plea, because just then, her mother’s cries stopped . . . and she would never cry again. Lilaci heard the men leave the tent as its front flaps rustled. She listened, and heard her little brother and sister enter back into the tent, and they sobbed and cried over their motionless and breathless mother.
Strong hands grabbed Lilaci and put her back up on the Iox, and then with a clap on the Iox’s rear, she felt them moving. The men that’d killed her parents were taking her with them.