Demons and Kings (Hartland Book 2)

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Demons and Kings (Hartland Book 2) Page 12

by J. B. Jenn


  Galtrand turned to the trees. “Come out. He’s right. We can’t allow what happened to us or the Desert happen to anyone else if we can prevent it.”

  The redheaded woman raised her thin red brow. “Just how are we supposed to fight? We have no real weapons, let alone training! Well, except the basic training Galtrand has been giving us.” The woman flared her nostrils. “Are we just supposed to somehow know how to fight? After we watched that thing tear apart our homes, kill our loved ones, we’re supposed to want to fight? There was nothing we could do against the monster.” She shook her head. “You can’t ask this of us. It isn’t fair.”

  “I am asking,” Trester said firmly. He scanned all of them. “I ask this of you because you have witnessed, firsthand, what this has done to you. This is personal. That gives you the courage you need to fight. It will give you the strength you need. Galtrand can continue your training. We can train more of you with the people I’ve brought. This isn’t a lost cause. It only feels like it.”

  “You ask too much of us,” she whispered.

  Galtrand placed his hand on her shoulder. “Latasha,” he said, softly, “he wouldn’t be asking this if he had any other option. He’s a good man. He wouldn’t ask us to die for no reason. We can help stop others from dying.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “We have all lost so much.” She met Trester’s eyes and swallowed. “We’ll help in any way we can.” The others around her nodded grimly. She bowed to Trester. “You’ve traveled far, please follow me where you may rest.”

  “Thank you, Latasha. However, I need a moment with Galtrand alone.”

  Galtrand and Trester walked away from the others. When they were far enough away, Trester turned toward him. He studied him for several moments, wondering if he could trust the man. He needed to be able to trust someone. Before he had been banished from Cascade, he and Galtrand were friends. Even though a lot of time had passed, he hoped it was still true.

  “I would like you to take a place as one of my bodyguards,” Trester said, testing the waters with the man. “I also wanted you to be a trusted advisor to me.”

  Galtrand sighed heavily. He looked about the ruined city for several moments as if conflicted with his answer. “No,” he finally said.

  When Galtrand turned to join the others, Trester cleared his throat. “We weren’t finished.” Galtrand looked to him. “I have something I must tell you, but you have to swear to tell no one else.”

  “I swear it, your Majesty.”

  Trester looked about the ruins, hoping no one else was within earshot. The only other people were Henter and Nealik, who were never far from him. Unsheathing his dagger, he held it in front of him. Galtrand shrugged.

  “Why are you wasting my time with this, your Majesty? You fought demons with it, so what?”

  “Henter can tell you this as well. It was my blood that did this. And if need be, I can demonstrate it.”

  Galtrand started to laugh, but stopped, seeing the seriousness in Trester’s face. “What do you mean your blood did this? I don’t see how it’s possible.”

  “Wytches were created. We are the product of our ancestors mating with demons. Wytches were not some mere accident. They were meant to fight alongside the Servants. Ultimately, we were cast aside due to our blood. How could anyone trust someone with demon blood running through their veins? I don’t blame them. The Servants must be able to trust someone completely. With a wytch, there’d be doubt.”

  Galtrand stood there, staring between Trester and the dagger. “I’m not sure what this is. How do we handle something like this?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure if Hartland should know about this, not with the current situation. It might make it worse. People might blame wytches for what has happened. Wytches have enough problems without adding to it. Eventually, I would like the people of Hartland to know the truth, but I fear the outcome of it.”

  Galtrand thinned his lips. “As do I, your Majesty.”

  Querra

  She couldn’t have planned it better. From where she remained hidden, she watched Trester and Galtrand. She was close enough to hear their conversation about wytches having demon blood in them. It didn’t bother her.

  After seeing what both the Tharroh and the demons were capable of, it made sense to her. However, she agreed with Trester. She didn’t think Hartland was ready for such information. They hardly needed to add to the chaos rampaging throughout the eastern part of Hartland.

  As she stared at Trester, he was shorter than she would have thought. Both Jakom and Kalom had been near six feet, if not over. Trester was only a few inches over five and a half feet. He was more handsome than she had expected. His shoulder length black hair framed his narrow face. His brilliant blue eyes had a fierce look to them. He definitely had the look of his father. She just hoped he didn’t have the attitude of King Delane Stone. If he did, it wouldn’t bode well for the Relentless. At least the situation did. King Trester needed soldiers and she had soldiers. Some of them were formerly his, too.

  She sat down, resting her back against the trunk of a tree. She hoped Eiden arrived soon. She hated to do things without her second in command. He saw things she didn’t. Besides, she missed him, though she’d never admit it to him.

  She wondered if he had drawn in the Relentless against her will. It wouldn’t surprise her, not with her wild hunt of the elusive Tharroh. She’d been gone longer than expected. He might even believe her dead.

  Standing, she decided to wait for the Relentless just outside of the city. She knew she’d miss some of the orders King Trester gave, but she didn’t want to risk being found. With King Trester here, she was certain it was only a matter of time before his guards scouted the forest. She could only hide for so long.

  She rose and left the shambles of the city behind her. She had to plan for her meeting with the king. There she planned to offer him the service of the Relentless. They deserved a chance to do their part. It was them who had kept most of Cascade intact. They had fought off the hordes of demons. She doubted this new king even knew it had happened. It would be interesting to discover what he knew once she met with the man.

  Querra looked behind her for a moment. Apprehension sat in her yellowy-orange eyes. Sighing, she left the forest, wishing it had been Janessa.

  Hethera

  After having gone through a portion of Fairvale that was home to glorious marble homes, she and her guards stood outside the palace gates. It was odd for her to see the palace closed off. King Zavad and the palace was open to everyone in Yul. She wondered if she would be able to get through to this man, let alone, have a meeting with him. She didn’t know much about King Adair. King Zavad had admitted they knew little. It was what troubled her. They were two kingdoms bordering one another who had no relations.

  “The palace is closed to all visitors,” one of the guards said, coming to the iron bars. His hand was on the hilt of his weapon. He looked her up and down. “Go back to wherever you came from. You’re not wanted here. Drakal is not involved in whatever Hartland is fighting over this time.”

  “So, you do know Hartland is at war then?”

  “Only that there is fighting. It doesn’t concern us. We wish to know nothing else of the matter.”

  “It’s imperative that you do know,” she said calmly. “It will only be a matter of time before it affects you. Yul can’t stand against them forever.”

  “As I said, the palace is closed to all visitors. Turn away.”

  “We are here on behalf of King Zavad,” Hethera said sharply. “Perhaps you should at least inform your king we are here to see him.”

  The guard eyed them carefully. “Very well. Wait here.”

  “We have nowhere else to go.”

  Hethera turned toward the men who had accompanied her. Several of them seemed uneasy. She didn’t blame them. All she hoped for was this wasn’t a waste of time. She needed King Adair to listen to her. Hartland needed his support. With the thought, she steeled he
rself against the possible encounter. She wouldn’t leave unless he threw her out. He would see what she was talking about. Somehow. If she could get past the gate. Even then, she was willing to make a scene until they either imprisoned her or the king agreed to see her.

  The man returned, frowning. “He will see you tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I am to escort you and your men to the west wing where you will stay during this visit. Follow me.”

  Hethera nodded curtly, not enjoying his condescending tone. At least, she would see the king. Tomorrow morning, she would have to convince him of Drakal’s need to join. She still had no idea how she was going to do that. All she knew was she must.

  Isol

  The moment he could see King Maik’s soldiers heading back toward the castle, he searched for him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to see him yet, but he found himself looking among the indistinguishable forms in the distance anyway.

  He headed toward the gate. As he waited for the soldiers, he imagined his cousin wounded, being carried in by a stretcher. He shook his head. There was no time for such fears. Maik was fine. He was a strong man and knew how to use a sword well. Still, he couldn’t keep from worrying about the king.

  People filled the courtyard waiting to greet loved ones. He scanned everyone. They were all worried about what was happening. A few of them were even weeping, taking support in each other.

  He went to each person he could, expressing his sorrow and fear with them. If the worst was to happen and he was suddenly king, he needed the people to trust him, to see he cared about them. To see, he was no longer the same man he had been. He had Valora to thank for that. It would take years to repair the damage he had caused.

  When the gates finally opened, they turned, waiting to see who had been lost. As a collective, it seemed they held their breath. The moment King Maik walked through those gates, the tension eased a little.

  “Before anyone starts to fear the worst, I need you to know most of the soldiers are still in Heltarn.” Maik scanned everyone. “They are taking care of the dead, putting out fires, and securing the town. A soldier will come this afternoon with a list of who was lost last night. Please, try not to think of the worst thing. I know it’s difficult fearing a person you love is dead, but it won’t bring them back.”

  Some of them mumbled to themselves, but slowly dispersed. There was nothing to be done tonight. Isol knew Maik hated leaving it like this.

  “I’m glad you survived, cousin,” Isol said, pushing his way through the people.

  “Yes, I’m sure you are,” Maik said stiffly.

  “No. You don’t understand. I would never want to be in your position. I have no idea what I would do with this crisis.”

  Maik smiled lightly. “Thank the Old Gods you aren’t king then.” Isol shrank back from his harsh tone. Maik studied him for a moment. “Follow me. We need to talk.”

  Isol’s stomach lurched with the way his cousin had spoken. Something had happened. He wasn’t certain if he wanted to know about it. When they were safe in his chambers, Maik sunk down into the sofa. Isol watched him bury his face into his hands.

  Isol found it disheartening to see his cousin, sitting there, troubled and exhausted. His cousin usually looked so proud. So confident. It was odd to see him vulnerable. Yet, since Janessa had died, it was all Isol had seen.

  He sat down across from him. “Maik?” he asked. He wasn’t certain if he wanted to know what his cousin was planning to tell him. All the death he’d seen was more than enough to last one life time. Yet, it kept coming.

  Maik continued to sit there, staring at the wall, lost in deep thought. He finally looked toward him.

  “Our people are being turned into monsters. They were mostly human, but had demon features. I didn’t know such things could exist. I need to find out everything I can about it. I… I never saw this happening.”

  “Demon features?” Isol whispered. His heart thundered in his ears. “Were they in the process of becoming demons when you saw them? It could explain it.”

  “I don’t know,” Maik answered. “I have no idea what’s going on. All I know was it had to have been a warning from King Barend. He’s telling me to stop, or letting me know fighting is useless.”

  “I think you need some rest, cousin. You’ve been awake for far too long, worrying about things you can’t change.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? He turned my people into those monsters because we fought Urian. We didn’t allow him to destroy us. Why didn’t he attack the palace? He could have gotten in. Instead, he chose the town just outside of the palace. Not many people in Heltarn were affected, but it was enough to gain my attention. This was a message. He wants me to submit to him. I can’t. I won’t!” Maik rose and paced. Isol watched him. “If something happens to me, you have to promise to continue the fight. The Desert cannot submit to King Barend and his demons. We’re stronger than that!”

  Isol sat in silence. He wasn’t entirely certain King Barend would waste his time doing such a thing. He hated not knowing his enemy and being unable to advise Maik. It was his role and he was failing.

  “I need to hear you swear it, Isol. The Desert cannot submit to King Barend. Swear it!”

  “I swear it, cousin. I swear if something should happen to you, I will ensure we continue to fight.”

  Maik stared at him for several moments. His eyes seemed to bore straight into his soul. “Good,” he finally said, sitting down again.

  “I hope Ogden and Mercea are succeeding. We need the help more now than ever.”

  Maik looked at him. His eyes were haunted. “I have some research to do. Make sure the soldiers are training and everything is running smoothly. If anything should happen, you know where to find me.”

  Before he could respond, Maik was out the door. Isol sighed heavily, praying his cousin was wrong.

  Arem

  The men around him fought off the demons trying to swarm him. He heard someone shout something, but it fell deaf on his ears. A demon raked him across the back, digging his talons into his side. He screamed and fell to his knees. Fire burned within him. He could feel it racing through his veins. His entire body felt as if it burned.

  Arem turned toward the demon who had raked him and unleashed his magic on him. Fire consumed the demon. Nothing but ash remained. His fury fueled the rest of the battle as demon after demon fell. Someone yelled something at him. It sounded so distant. The last thing he remembered was a fist coming at his face. After that, it was only blackness. He didn’t even feel himself hit the sand.

  When reality came back to Arem, he found Relyck sitting beside him. A grim look encompassed the man’s scarred face. There was a dagger in his hand, and it looked as if he was thinking about using it. Arem lay there for several moments. His breathing was shallow. He had no idea why the man wanted to kill him.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  “Were you planning on killing me while I slept?” Arem asked, sitting up, frowning.

  “Yes.” The response came reluctantly. “We didn’t think we would have a choice after what happened.”

  Arem stared at the man. He didn’t remember anything after the demon had raked his back. The wounds were still there. He could feel them, burning and aching every time he moved. They would add to the scars already there from the demon who had attacked during the battle with Urian.

  Relyck remained where he was, still holding the dagger, watching him closely. Arem met the man’s eyes.

  “I don’t understand. You’re going to have to tell me what happened.” The man raised his brow. “After the demon attacked me, I remember nothing.”

  A deep, concerned look washed over Relyck. Arem thought he saw guilt in the man’s eyes. As they sat there in silence, he felt his impatience rising. Then, the man spoke.

  “From what I can tell, it seems wytch blood and demon blood doesn’t mix well. The demon shredded your back. One of the men you killed, cut the arm off the demon trying to save your life. Its blood hit your back.”
Again, he fell silent. Arem wished he could see what the man remembered. “Flames bathed your entire body. You were killing demons and friends alike. It didn’t matter to you what they were, just as long as they were nowhere near you. Hitting you hurt like hell.” He raised his hand. Horrible burns sat across his fist. “It did its job though. You fell unconscious and we left you there to burn in the sand. The flames eventually tapered off.

  “Once the demon raked you and his blood mixed with yours, I think that’s when it all happened. Somehow it augmented your powers and made you… Well, it made you insane.” Relyck looked toward some of his men who were watching them. Arem saw their fear. “We feel if you were to stay, you should remain in the back when we’re fighting. We want less of a chance of you going berserk again.”

  “Were to stay? You don’t want me to stay?”

  “We love you’re saving our lives. After what happened and how you couldn’t differentiate friend from foe, we’re all terrified of you.” Relyck looked toward his men. Arem saw the guilt on the man’s face again. “We all think you should leave. You’re just as dangerous as they are.”

  Arem shook his head. Disbelief filled his eyes. “No. I’m staying. You can’t survive this without me. They will overwhelm you.”

  Relyck looked toward his men. Several of them refused to look over at them now. He glanced back toward Arem. “You’re right. We would be overwhelmed, but you’re dangerous, Arem. You have to see that and admit it.”

  “I admit it. I can see their fear. I’ll remain in the back to lessen the chance of it happening again.” Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it.

  Now that he knew demon blood could augment his power, he knew he had to try it. If increasing his power could help win this war, he’d do it. He’d do anything to save lives. Arem looked toward Relyck and the others, feeling as if he were betraying them with just his thoughts.

  “Give me a chance to prove myself again,” he said, looking toward everyone.

 

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