The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  “Let her go,” Kian said, his voice low and threating.

  Serban raised his head, his mouth covered in the woman’s blood. The vampire unceremoniously dropped Katrina’s limp body to the floor. Kian could see the woman’s chest rise and fall, so at least she still lived.

  “So another fool who thinks he can best me. The last hero you sent didn’t fare so well.” The baron gestured at Vladimir’s lifeless body. “Come, warrior, let’s see how you do against true darkness.”

  Kian leaped forward, Silence throbbing in his hand.

  “Kill him Snell,” the baron commanded.

  The mercenary captain and his men moved to block Kian’s path. The Slayer’s dark blade swiftly slid through one man’s chest. Gracefully spinning to his left, he took another’s head. The tall, dark-haired warrior aimed a terrible blow at Kian’s neck. Ducking the attack, Kian brought his sword up between the captain’s legs, driving the dark blade through Snell’s pelvis and into his abdomen. The mercenary howled in agony and fell to the side. Kian tried to wrench his sword free, but Silence was hung up inside the large warrior’s body.

  The last two sellswords circled him. The first brought his war ax down at the squatting warrior. Kian let go of his dark sword and rolled away. The man tried to bring his ax to bear again, but Kian was quicker. The Slayer came to his feet and drove his fist into the mercenary’s mailed chest. There was an audible crack as the man’s ribs snapped away from his sternum. He fell to the floor, trying to suck air into his punctured lungs.

  The second warrior rushed in with his sword above his head. The Slayer caught the mercenary’s arm and drove his knee into the man’s belly. The mercenary doubled over and Kian wrenched the sword from his hand, driving it through his spine.

  Without warning, the baron smashed into Kian’s back and knocked him to the floor. He turned over just in time to see the nobleman pounce on top of him. The swordsman grabbed Serban’s cold wrist as the vampire reached for his throat.

  The Slayer held the baron’s arm at bay for the moment, and then slowly it began to descend. Even his inhuman strength was not a match for the undead fiend’s power.

  From the corner of his eye, Kian saw Vinsant, Payton, and Tempest charge into the room. How they had gotten inside he didn’t know, but if the trio planned on confronting the baron, the youngsters were making a grievous mistake.

  “Stay back,” he shouted.

  Serban caught sight of them and came to his feet as they moved to attack. The creature’s speed was incredible. His first blow sent Tempest flying across the room before the girl even knew he was there.

  Turning, the baron grabbed Vinsant by the neck and hurled him into one of the room’s stone columns. Payton slammed his sword into Serban’s abdomen, transfixing the undead noble with his blade. Serban smiled down at the insignificant wound and then backhanded the boy into unconsciousness.

  Kian came to his feet as the baron pulled the sword out of his body with a snicker. “You fools just don’t understand. You may have beaten my soldiers, but you will never defeat me. I will go to Warmark and return with the full might of my army, after I kill you that is.”

  Seeing Tempest and the boys injured sent a wave of fury through the swordsman. Reaching down, he tore Silence from the dead mercenary’s body.

  Serban smiled as he drew his own blade. “Come, freak, let me show you who is your better.”

  The vampire’s speed with a blade was astonishing, but Kian was a master. The smirk quickly left Serban’s face as the Slayer pressed the attack. Only the Baron’s preternatural reflexes kept him from being cut to pieces.

  Kian felt the thing inside him take over. Blow after blow rained down as Serban backed toward Trimenian’s twin thrones, Kian’s speed and strength nearly matching the vampire’s own.

  Before the battle between the two inhuman warriors could be resolved, the throne room doors were ripped off their hinges and sent flying across the room. The huge wooden doors smashed into the two combatants, knocking both off their feet. The two slowly rose and stared at the beast that loomed in the doorway.

  It stood on two legs and was well over six feet in height. The creature’s large frame was sheathed in heavy muscle covered by a thick coat of dark fur. Bloody foam dripped from its black lips as the monster’s bloodshot yellow eyes took in the throne room.

  Without warning, it burst across the room faster than either of the two stunned warriors could move. Kian was knocked aside as the beast lunged for Serban.

  The baron howled as the creature tore both his arms off and sank its fangs into his throat. The wolf-beast began to rend the undead thing with claw and fang, shredding the evil nobleman’s pale flesh and shattering his bones. Thick blood splattered across the room as the unnatural animal’s violent rage turned Serban into nothing more than a bloodstain.

  Kian picked up Silence and backed away, preparing to take on the monster. For all its strength and speed, Kian thought he could kill it with a blade in his hand.

  Tempest came to her feet, a small trickle of blood coming from her mouth. “It is Pepca, Kian.”

  The animal whipped its head around and its ferocious gaze fell on the white-haired girl.

  The swordsman frowned. Circling the room, Kian put himself between Tempest and the creature. The huge animal rushed at him. Kian felt Tempest grab his arm as he raised his sword.

  “Please don’t kill her,” she cried. His hesitation at the young woman’s plea was a mistake.

  The creature threw him across the room with little effort. Silence flew from his hand as he smashed into the wall. The beast thundered after him. The swordsman rolled away just as its clawed hands reached for his neck.

  K’xarr and Cromwell burst into the room, followed by several of the Sons. The men drew their weapons and started for the wild animal.

  “It is the princess,” Kian called out. The moment’s pause was all the animal needed to seize the swordsman and begin ripping at his body with its razor sharp claws. Only his elven mail saved him from being disemboweled.

  “Surround that thing and we come at it from all sides,” K’xarr shouted. “We have to kill it before it does the same to us.”

  Before the mercenaries could act, Tavantis came into the room. “Stand aside, Captain.”

  K’xarr gestured to his men and they parted, giving the mage a clear path.

  The animal’s attention was still on Kian. It grabbed him by the throat and the beast inside the swordsman responded in kind. The two kindred beings were locked in a titanic struggle for survival, neither realizing the similarities they shared. Both could only focus on destroying the other.

  Tavantis shouted a word, his voice ringing across the throne room like a gong. The wolf creature released Kian and whirled around, snarling and blowing saliva from its hideous mouth. It took a step forward and the mage traced a symbol with his finger, a glowing sigil appearing in the air.

  “Ease your rage, creature of the moon,” Tavantis shouted, his voice booming.

  The creature stopped its advance. Cocking its head slightly, the animal stared, seemingly mesmerized by the sigil.

  “Let your mind return, moon beast. Look through the red mist of your madness and fury.” Tavantis held up the fingers on his right hand in a strange fashion and walked forward.

  “Remember who you are, Pepca Lasota. Free yourself from this savage form. I command that you return to your true self.”

  The ghastly creature fell to its knees, whimpering and moaning like a wounded dog. Tempest covered her mouth and the mercenaries stepped back as the canine whining turned into the anguished sobs of a young woman.

  Kian limped over to where the others stood, watching the horrific transformation take place. Within moments, a naked girl drenched in sweat sat on her knees before them. A pathetic cry from the depths of her soul broke Pepca’s lips as she raised her head and looked at them.

  Tempest rushed to her side and held her as the princess’s body heaved in agony.

  “E
veryone out,” K’xarr ordered. The mercenaries slowly drifted out of the throne room, muttering among themselves.

  Cromwell helped Payton and Vinsant to their feet and ushered the boys out as well.

  Kian stared at his brother. Tavantis’s power continued to amaze him.

  Tavantis noticed his twin’s gaze. “Do you think this is the first werebeast I have dealt with?”

  “What did you do to her?” Kian asked in a low tone.

  “I forced her transformation by making he remember who she was. The girl is marked, she isn’t a normal shapechanger.”

  “What’s that mean?” K’xarr said, stepping closer.

  “Just what I said, Captain. When Pepca changes, it is not always a wolf she becomes. Sometimes it is something in between. It is a monstrous torment, and now it will be worse.”

  “How so?” Kian asked.

  “Because of the magic I used. Now she will remember what she has done when she is the beast. Perhaps with time, she will learn control. Till then, the girl will just have to suffer the curse.”

  “Is there nothing you can do?” K’xarr asked.

  Tavantis looked at the girl for a moment then smiled. “No. Now, if you will excuse me.” Tavantis turned away from them and headed for the door.

  “I don’t know if I believe him,” K’xarr said.

  “Nor do I,” Kian answered, watching his brother walk from the room.

  The Mistress opened the golden doors to the throne room. In the flickering light of the magical flames that lit the chamber, the Queen of Hell drifted past the thirteen pillars of dark stone that supported the room’s ceiling.

  Hesperina sat on the throne alone, the queen’s expression was brooding. The ruler of Shadow Dragon Mountain’s hair was stacked on top of her head in a fetching style, and her dark eyes stared at the polished floor, deep in thought.

  The veiled goddess cast a glance at the piece of chain in her hand. Hesperina would be furious when she found out she had been holding Ranjan prisoner. Whatever consequences came with her confession, however, it couldn’t be worse than the possibility of facing her husband alone. If the Reaper planned to come for revenge, she would need allies.

  Marching forward, she saw Hesperina take notice of her presence and come to her feet, the long-sleeved black dress she wore falling perfectly around her ankles.

  The Queen of the Gods glared at her from atop the dais. “Does your arrogance know no bounds? How dare you show your face here after what you have done.”

  The Mistress stopped her approach. “What the hell are you talking about? And where are the others? I have important news.”

  “They are out looking for your daughter, as if you didn’t know.”

  “Syann is gone from the cage?”

  “You are the only one who would have the audacity to free her. I don’t know how you did it, but this is the last time you will defy me.”

  Now she understood Hesperina’s anger. Ranjan was not the only one Octavian had set free. “You well know I could not have freed Syann from the cage even if I wanted to, nor could anyone else.”

  “Then how do you propose she escaped?” Hesperina asked, her voice rising.

  The Mistress tossed the broken piece of chain across the smoothly polished onyx floor and it slid to the foot of the dais. “Only one god has that kind of power.”

  Hesperina stepped down from the throne and picked up the shattered chain. “What is this?”

  “It was the chain that bound Ranjan to the Stone of Subjugation. I found the chain sundered and Ranjan gone.”

  The queen’s eyes narrowed. “You have held him prisoner this whole time?”

  The Mistress shrugged. “I intended to free him once I was finished with him.”

  She watched the queen’s angry expression change with the dawning of understanding. “No one can break this chain only…”

  “Yes, only him,” the mistress said from behind her veil.

  Hesperina stumbled back up the dais and into the throne, the length of chain still clutched in her hand. “He…he is free?”

  “It would seem so. I have no other explanation. You have accused me wrongly of freeing, Syann. Her release can only be her father’s doing, not mine.”

  Hesperina’s face paled. “We must summon everyone back immediately, and find Ranjan. He can confirm if the Reaper has escaped his prison.”

  “I agree. Octavian will know by his actions that we will suspect his presence. He will no longer need to stay hidden.”

  Fear spread across the queen’s face. “He will kill us all if we don’t act quickly.”

  * * *

  Syann watched the two men as they loaded the wagon. There was no point in revealing herself. It would do little good. Syann had just wanted to look in on Kian once more before she returned to the mountain. With what was to come, she might not have another chance.

  Her swordsman was still very angry. It was more than that though, she sensed something foreboding in his very being. Closely observing Kian and the Toran filling the wagon, the goddess tried to ascertain what was troubling her so.

  It was as if a cruel specter had descended on Kian and hardened his heart. Dark circles ringed his eyes and though he hid it from his companion, she could see that his hands shook. Something was terribly wrong. Her mother may have some idea of what afflicted the swordsman, but contacting her now was out of the question. Besides, the Queen of Hell could not be trusted.

  By now, they would all know she had escaped. She didn’t like it, but Kian would have to wait. Her father’s wishes had to take precedence for now. It was clear what he wanted her to do, and the mountain would explode into chaos once the gods discovered that the Reaper was free. Her father’s reemergence would force her and the others to take sides. Once that happened, there would be no going back.

  As much as it pained her, she would have to leave Kian in this state for now. Syann took one last look at the sullen-eyed warrior. If she could, she would return to him later and ease his heart.

  * * *

  K’xarr grinned as Katrina opened her eyes. She had slept for three whole days, and in spite of himself, he had started to worry that she would never wake. She wasn’t wounded, but Serban had drained a great deal of blood.

  “Where am I? The Baron…” she said, confused by her surroundings.

  “Hush now, you are in the palace and the baron is no more,” he said, stroking her head.

  “And Vladimir?”

  “He is gone as well.”

  Katrina’s eyes misted over and she sat up. “Then who…”

  K’xarr took her in his arms and kissed her gently on the forehead. “It was Pepca.”

  Katrina stared at him with confusion.

  “Rest and grieve. I will return this evening and tell you the tale.”

  She laid back and closed her eyes, quickly drifting off again. K’xarr had never intended the buxom redhead to be anything more than another romp, just a woman to pass the time while he was in this accursed country. To his surprise, he had grown very fond of the young rebel. It would be difficult to leave her behind.

  Gently closing her door, he set out to find his lieutenants. The palace was alive with new servants who had offered to see to the new queen. The Trimenian soldiers who had survived the battle, along with volunteers from the city, had cleared the bodies from the battlefield. Some were claimed by their families, while the others were carted outside the city and burned.

  Brova still celebrated Serban’s demise. The story was being told of the mad vampire and his scheme to steal the throne. By the time winter came again, the entire kingdom would know the truth of what had happened here, most of it anyway.

  Kian and Cromwell had been gone since the morning after the battle. K’xarr had been angry at first, but he had grown a little concerned as the days passed. He couldn’t imagine what had distracted the Slayer from killing Kago.

  The fight was coming, though. K’xarr had known Kian long enough to know the swordsman wasn’
t about to forgive or forget the betrayal, and K’xarr had no intention of intervening in the fight. He hated to admit it, but he liked Kago. Both of them shared traits that most people didn’t appreciate. The half-Sidian and he were ambitious, callous and vain, and they were equally driven. It would be a shame to watch the man die.

  When he entered the grand dining room, K’xarr found it full of his mercenaries. They sat around the tables eating and drinking like a herd of cattle, boasting of their exploits. The captain smiled. He loved this life. As bloody and hellish as it could get, he would not choose to live any other way.

  Rufio sat at one end of the large table in the center of the room, Kago the other. Endra was seated beside the scar-faced warrior, her broken leg stretched out under the table and her arm around Kattan’s shoulders. Rufio glared at the couple, clearly irritated by Endra’s shameless fawning.

  It was unfortunate that his two lieutenants disliked each other so much. Both were excellent commanders. Things would be much easier for him if they did not despise one another.

  “Well, it’s good to see all of you sitting on your asses, feasting like Celonian nobles,” K’xarr bellowed loud enough to quiet the room.

  “We grabbed a few of those new cooks and a handful of serving wenches to fix us a meal,” Beck said, a spoonful of eggs falling from his mouth back into his plate. “I think we fucking deserve it. Right, boys?”

  The other sellswords let out a brief cheer, then went back to gorging themselves on the fine smelling breakfast.

  “What is your pleasure, Captain?” Kago asked.

  “How many of us are left?”

  “A solid three hundred and seven can still fight. A few more if we give the wounded a few days to recover,” Kago answered.

  “They will have the time. Just don’t get too comfortable I’m going to speak with the queen. She has a mess in Warmark. I plan to see if we can help her clean it up.”

  “I thought she would just recall the army. From what I hear, Serban started the war without much support from the aristocracy. I’m sure her noblemen would be more than happy to return home, if the queen ordered them to withdraw,” Rufio said from his end of the table.