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

by A. J. STRICKLER

  “I don’t doubt that, but I’m going to try and convince her to move ahead with the conquest. The army will be deep in Warmark by now. Even if she recalled them, there is no guarantee Warmark will let the invasion go unavenged. I believe it’s too late for peace, so since Queen Pepca has no military officers to advise her, I’m going to suggest she fights to win in Warmark and offer her the services of the finest company of sellswords in the world.”

  The mercenaries seated around the dining hall banged on the tables and shouted their approval of the captain’s decision. K’xarr was pleased; it seemed his Sons hadn’t had enough yet.

  “Have you seen Cromwell, Captain?” Rufio shouted over the ruckus. “I’ve been trying to find him so he can help me round up all our drunk or missing brothers. A few of the men have celebrated a little too hard the last couple of days. The Bull has a knack for rousting our wayward brothers out of the taverns and brothels.”

  “I haven’t seen him or the Slayer. I would guess they are off on some errand. Who can say when it comes to those two?”

  “So the half-breed is missing? Unfortunate. I was looking forward to crossing steel with that…man,” Kago said arrogantly.

  Endra smiled and rubbed Kattan’s chest. “Perhaps he has decided to skulk away. It would be best for everyone involved if he would just leave.”

  “So you are ready to die?” K’xarr said, folding his arm across his chest. Endra’s harsh words had poked at his temper.

  Kago ran his finger around the rim of his cup. “I’m as ready as any man, Captain, but I wasn’t planning on losing. I look forward to dispelling this myth of the Slayer’s invincibility. A man is only unbeatable till he meets his better.”

  K’xarr scoffed. His lieutenant had more nerve than he did sense. “I am sure you will get your chance. For now, your job is to keep an eye on the men and don’t let them get into any mischief.”

  Kago inclined his head with a sneer.

  K’xarr left his men to their meal. He needed to see Pepca.

  The mercenary captain climbed the stairs to the second floor. The queen had agreed to see him in her chambers. She still occupied her old room, as small and drab as it was. He didn’t think she had come to terms with her new title yet, or the airs she would need to put on for her subjects.

  He knocked on her door and the new queen called for him to enter. The girl offered no greeting so he began. Pepca sat on her bed with her legs folded, not saying a word as he laid out his thoughts for the conquest of Warmark. K’xarr told her all he needed was a proclamation to make him temporary commander of the forces of Trimenia, promising he would see the war to its finish and help her stabilize both kingdoms afterwards. During that time, she could secure proper Trimenian officers to serve the crown in the future.

  He explained that at the very most, the contract he offered would only last a year or two. If the war dragged on longer, they could revisit their agreement at that time.

  K’xarr wasn’t sure the young woman had even been listening. Pepca stared at the floor the entire time he had been speaking.

  He thought perhaps she was embarrassed or timid because he had seen what she really was. Whatever the cause, the new queen seemed uninterested in his ideas.

  “Majesty, what say you?”

  The girl looked him. He had never noticed what a beautiful shade of brown her eyes were.

  “I think you are right about Warmark. I don’t believe their people would listen to reason after they were so terribly betrayed. Princess Ada is the last of King Mayson’s line and she is young. Her noblemen are most likely running the kingdom. They would never listen to me if I proposed a halt to the war.”

  Pepca unfolded her legs and scooted to the edge of the bed. “If I am going to fight this war and restore Trimenia, I’m going to need help. I will accept your offer captain and do the best I can to assist you. I just don’t know how much help I will be.” Pepca hung her head and looked at her feet.

  “Majesty, are you troubled?”

  “Yes, Captain, by a great many things.”

  “You can speak with me about them, if you like. You would not be the first young queen to tell me her troubles.”

  “I bet I am the only queen you know that is also a monster,” she said, shaking back her thick hair. She hopped off the bed and went to the window. “I know the things the wolf has done and I can’t change any of it. When the moon is full, I will have no choice but to endure the beast, but I will never willingly unleash it again. I cannot contain its power.”

  “You will learn control,” K’xarr said, moving closer. “You are stronger than you know, Highness.”

  Pepca smiled sadly. “Dimitri said the same thing. I wasn’t sure if he was right then and I not sure if you are now.”

  “I know a man with much the same problem. He is hounded by the beasts inside him, and the demons that lurk in his mind. Yet he fights against those dark forces every day without complaint, and even if one day he loses the battle against the evil inside him, none can ever say he willingly surrendered to it.”

  “I promise you, Captain, it will not take me willingly. But I have other worries besides the animal.”

  “Such as?”

  “The Church. The people of the countryside are deeply religious. I don’t know that with all that’s happened, the pope will sanction my reign. Archbishop Lech is dead, as are all the priests in Brova.”

  “Leave that to me. I sure I can find a priest in one of your small hamlets that is willing to perform the ceremony. As far as the pope goes, to hell with him. You rule now. Who cares if he gives his blessing or not? I don’t think God will come down from Heaven and chastise you for not getting a blessing from an old man in Tyro.”

  “I take it you’re not very religious, Captain, but unfortunately, my people are.”

  “You are Queen Pepca, hero of Trimenia, slayer of the vile blood drinker Baron Serban, the savior of your kingdom. The people will not protest, and if they do, I can remind them who rules with a bit of steel shoved up their asses.”

  Pepca grinned. “I don’t believe anyone thinks I am a hero or a savior, Captain.”

  “It is what your people are saying right now down in the city.”

  “How would they know about such things?”

  “Well, I had my men spread the truth around a bit. You did kill the baron. We just left out the part about you being a wolf-beast at the time.”

  Pepca wrapped her arms around herself. “You might be right in a fashion, but I don’t think you will ever convince Constantine. I do not believe he will ever be content with me being Trimenian’s queen.”

  “I will shut Constantine’s mouth if he speaks out against you, do not worry about that. Besides, your people are weary of rebellion. That blowhard couldn’t get a goat to follow him again.”

  “I not worried about another rebellion, Captain. I think Constantine tried to kill me, and he might try again.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “You know about my sister?”

  “Yes, Constantine said you and he discovered she was in league with Serban.”

  “It was more than that. When we came upon Danika and her bodyguards inside one of the rooms upstairs, I stepped in. Constantine closed the door and ran. I have been thinking on it, and I believe he hoped my sister would kill me. I could be mistaken, perhaps he was just frightened and the whole incident is nothing.”

  K’xarr had no doubt that Pepca was right about Constantine. The weasel saw an opportunity to get the last member of the Lasota family out of his way by letting Pepca’s treasonous sister do the dirty work. He knew Danika would never be allowed to rule after she had betrayed the kingdom. Most likely, she would have been hanged for her crimes. With the entire family dead, it would be easy for Constantine to play the role of reluctant citizen forced by circumstance to take the throne.

  He would see to the man, but he would have to be careful. Many still believed Constantine a hero, and Pepca never needed to know it was h
er words that convinced him to rid the world of that snake.

  “You’re right, it is probably nothing. I will keep an eye on him all the same, Your Majesty.”

  “I am not used to being called majesty. It was always my father’s title.”

  “It is yours now. I have taken enough of your time. We will speak later about the details of the campaign in Warmark, and what needs to be done here in Trimenia.”

  “Thank you for your help, Captain.”

  “There will be a small fee for it,” K’xarr said with a grin.

  “Of course,” Pepca said with a slight bow.

  He left the girl’s chambers and headed downstairs. Trimenia’s new queen had lost much, and carried a heavy burden with the curse she had been inflicted with. He could do nothing about that, but he could see to it that that bastard Constantine would trouble her no more.

  K’xarr strolled into the dining hall where the men still lingered and motioned for Beck.

  The mercenary wiped his mouth with his sleeve and joined his captain in the archway of the room.

  “You need something, Captain?”

  “I do. I want you to find Constantine, follow him till he is alone, slit his throat, and get rid of the corpse. I don’t need his body ever being found.”

  “How soon?” Beck asked, sucking at his teeth.

  “Before tomorrow morning, if possible. I don’t want that rat bastard to see another sunrise.”

  “He’ll be gone by dawn, Captain,” Beck said, stepping back into the dining hall.

  “You need to know why?” K’xarr asked.

  “No, your order is all I need,” Beck said without looking back.

  K’xarr nodded. With Beck in his shadow, Constantine was as good as dead.

  * * *

  Tempest stepped into the room and softly closed the door. She had waited until she was sure Captain Strom had left. Pepca sat at a dressing table staring at her refection in the table’s oval mirror. The young woman had tamed her wiry hair, and even used a bit of paint on her face. The new queen had dressed in a lovely black gown trimmed in burgundy. Tempest had never really seen her friend clad according to her station. Pepca looked like a completely different girl.

  “Do I look like a queen?” Pepca asked still, gazing into the mirror.

  “You’re beautiful,” Tempest said.

  “All I see when I look in this mirror is a monster. I am afraid my heart has hardened with all the death that surrounds me, Tempest. I spoke with Captain Strom this morning. I have decided to continue the war. I would have never done that before all this.”

  “You have a duty now. You rule Trimenia now, and there will be hard choices as long as you do. It doesn’t mean you are callous or cruel when you make decisions. I have every confidence you will do what’s right for your people.”

  Pepca sighed. “You are always the optimist, Tempest, and I love you for it. Enough about my ills. Where have you been anyway?”

  “I went to see Ashlyn and then tried to get Endra to see to her children.”

  “Did you have any luck?”

  “Not really. She used the excuse that her leg was broken and she couldn’t help me till it was mended. It’s not the truth, though, it is her desire for Lieutenant Kattan that keeps her away. It’s almost like madness.”

  Pepca turned around in her seat. “What will you do?”

  “Speak with Kian when her returns. The three little girls are not much of a problem, but the younger children…” Tempest rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know how you have managed to take care of them as well as tend to me all this time.”

  Tempest sat down on the bed, rubbing her eyes. “You have been no trouble; you are my friend, Pepca. I just fear what is going to happen now that the battle is finished.”

  “I think I have learned the battle is never over,” Pepca said, joining Tempest on the bed.

  “Now you sound like Kian or Captain Strom. I just don’t know what I’m going to do now. I have been traveling with Kian since he saved me. I don’t even have a home.”

  Pepca ran her hand through Tempest’s white locks.

  “You will always have a home here with me and I promise to protect you from the inquisition or anyone else that wishes to harm you. You are like a sister to me.”

  “I have never had a sister,” Tempest said, falling back on the bed.

  Pepca fell back beside her. “You have one now.”

  * * *

  Constantine staggered a little as he walked out of the tavern. The hour was late and he had not planned on drinking so much. He thought he had made a little progress with the people. It would be unwise to push too hard just yet. They all still heralded Pepca as a hero, but he had come too far to let a little girl rule in his place.

  He didn’t think once all the acclaim died down that it would take too long to turn the people against the new queen, especially if he started a few rumors about her secret.

  The people would never stand for another monster ruling them. Once the word spread, Pepca would be overthrown and burned at the stake. Then he could appoint a council to rule the country, with him at its head of course.

  It was unfortunate that he had lost Vladimir. The shapechanger would have proved very useful now that Serban was gone. It would be hard to find someone as loyal as Vladimir had been.

  Katrina was useless now and most assuredly could not be trusted anymore. Strom had filled her mind with his lies. That abominable mercenary was his real problem. He had managed to sway the girl into continuing Serban’s unholy war. When he had heard the news, he nearly lost hope, until he was told the mercenaries planned to join the Trimenian forces in Warmark. Strom may have outfoxed himself this time. Once the Sons of the Reaper and their meddling captain rode out of Brova, it would take little time to depose Pepca. Even if the mercenaries returned, it would be too late. He would have the throne.

  Some new allies were needed. It wouldn’t be too hard to find them once he disclosed that the new queen was a shapechanger, and that she had devoured her sister Danika. No, it would be all too easy.

  Rounding the corner, the rebel general walked into the city stables. He couldn’t remember if he had left his horse saddled or not. It didn’t matter. The ride up to the palace was short.

  He chuckled at the thought of Pepca inviting him to stay in the royal residence until he located a more permanent home. The girl was an idiot.

  He had started for his horse’s stall when he felt a strong hand grab his collar and a sharp pain lanced across his throat. Something warm and wet spilled down the front of his shirt. Dropping to his knees, he tried to scream, but nothing came out. The stable grew dark and he fell forward on to the straw-covered floor. A tear ran from his eye and over the bridge of his nose as he choked on his own blood. He wasn’t going to rule Trimenia after all.

  The moon was well past its zenith and K’xarr was ready to return to Katrina’s bed. He had been waiting near the city gate for some time. Irritated, he was about to call it a night when he saw the small wagon roll by. Beck pulled it to a stop when he saw his captain walk out of the shadows.

  “Well, are you finished?”

  “Done and done, Captain,” Beck said casually.

  K’xarr glanced in the back of the wagon and saw a small wooden barrel. Its lid had fallen off and even in the dark, he could see the fresh blood inside. “What’s the barrel for?”

  Beck grinned wolfishly. “Transportation.”

  “You couldn’t get a grown man in that,” K’xarr whispered.

  “Aye, not unless you chunked him up.”

  K’xarr sighed. “What did you do with the body? I told you I didn’t want it found, not even in pieces.”

  Closing one eye, the mercenary regarded his captain. “Don’t worry, won’t see that rat bastard again, but there might be a crofter come in and complain his hogs got a lot fatter overnight.”

  K’xarr grinned wickedly. “Well done, Beck. Well done indeed.”

  * * *
<
br />   “Our missing brothers have returned, Captain,” Rufio said, sticking his head in the door. Averting his eyes, the lieutenant quickly closed the door. Katrina still lounged on the bed without a stitch of clothing on. K’xarr smiled as he buckled on his sword belt. The Dragitan’s attempt at decency was admirable.

  K’xarr bent down and kissed Katrina softly. The woman had said she was feeling better so he had stayed the night with her. By her lovemaking, she hadn’t been lying.

  “You want me to go with you?” she asked, rolling over and pulling the blankets up over her breasts.

  “No, stay. I won’t be long.”

  K’xarr walked out of the room and down the stairs. It was convenient the new queen was letting him and Katrina stay in the palace. He hoped once Pepca had ruled for a time, she would be more restrained on who she let stay there.

  Rufio was waiting outside with his horse. The animal had been saddled and made ready to ride.

  “What have they been up to?” K’xarr asked, pulling himself into the saddle.

  Rufio shook his head. “Neither would say, but both of them are surly. If I was Kago, I would be making peace with my gods about now. Kian is in as foul a mood as I have ever seen him.”

  Cantering down the road from the palace, he and Rufio passed through Brova’s northern gate. Kian and Cromwell stood just inside the city walls beside a large wagon covered with a canvas.

  “Well, what do we have here?” K’xarr asked, pulling his horse to a stop alongside the two men.

  Kian pulled the tarp back without ceremony. Two large chests of gold sat in the front of the wagon, while the rest of the bed was brimming with golden candlesticks and silver platters, as well as a couple of rich carpets that had been rolled up tightly. A marble stature of some unknown lord had also been tossed in. All manner of trinkets and baubles, most made of silver or gold, filled the cart to nearly overflowing. It was near a king’s ransom.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” K’xarr asked, his eye greedily taking in the treasure.

  “Serban’s castle. The handful of men-at-arms he had there didn’t mind us taking it after we gutted a few of them,” Cromwell said proudly.