Honor Bound Trilogy Box Set

by Jon Kiln

  Honor Bound Trilogy

  Forsaken, Betrayal & Dominion

  by Jon Kiln

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Forsaken

  Betrayal

  Dominion

  Forsaken

  Chapter 1: The Meaning in the Smoke

  Captain Berengar of the Elite Guard squared himself in the circle of light on the center of the chamber floor. He heard their breathing on every side and saw their teeth in the darkness as they closed in on him. Berengar knew they would screw up their courage soon enough, and they would be upon him then. He was older now and seasoned by war. They should be afraid, but his service was about to end no matter what he did in this moment—of that he was sure.

  Berengar heard the boots of one of the soldiers grind the dust of the floor as he charged. The captain dropped and spun an elbow into the warrior’s skull for his enthusiasm. The first soldier held his head and staggered away. He wasn’t much younger than Berengar, but the attacker had chosen to join the fight and knew the cost.

  Three more fighters charged in boldly at his front. Berengar settled for taking a shot at one of them. He brought up his knee into an attacker’s gut. As the old dog folded to the floor, Captain Berengar took some satisfaction in it, even as the other two fell on him and took his arms.

  Berengar struggled, but gained no ground. The rest of the men piled in on every side, laughing and breathing insults.

  The captain’s eyes focused on the younger men lining the wall and watching. Among them, he spotted his trusted lieutenant, Nisero. The younger soldier leaned on the wall with his hand resting loose on the hilt of his sword. He showed no intention of joining the attack, nor to offer a defense. Nisero’s hair was close cropped, but still dark and thick. His face showed the youth of less than four decades, even through the scars of battle on his cheeks and forehead.

  The veteran officers rubbed Captain Berengar’s head one after another, until the skin on his scalp felt hot and raw. He half expected his hair to be rubbed away by the time they were done.

  A few of the men stepped away laughing and saluting after the humiliation. The others wrapped Berengar in a group bear hug until he thought he might hear a rib crack.

  Berengar bowed his head and closed his eyes. The expression on his face melted away and he whispered, “I think my shoulder popped out of place again.”

  One of the men, an officer from the low lands named Forseth, backed away and breathed, “I’m sorry, sir. Do you need a medic?” Forseth had served alongside Berengar in the campaign where the arm had nearly been twisted off in battle.

  Berengar thrust out and jammed his closed fist into Forseth’s lower abdomen like a stone off a catapult. Forseth let out a howl like a wolf in death. He folded over and put his hands on his knees. The other men barked out laughter that echoed off the chamber walls.

  They backed out of arm’s reach to the edge of the light.

  Forseth coughed and dropped to his knees. “Oh, gods help me, Berengar, I nearly fertilized my armor from that shot. We were just saying goodbye.”

  Berengar straightened and rubbed gently at his burning scalp. “I was just saying goodbye back, soldier. I want you to remember me. Will you remember?”

  “Never forget, sir.”

  “Now then, take your feet and pour me a drink.” Berengar rubbed Forseth’s head. “That’s an order.”

  “I may have to delegate that command.” Forseth held his stomach and stayed on his knees. “I will miss you dearly even still.”

  “I will live without,” Berengar said, “but I owe every moment of life I might be granted ahead to the brave fight and loyal protection you provided me on the field behind. That goes for every man in this room.”

  The men cheered and lifted their fists at Captain Berengar. He nodded.

  “For gods and king!” they shouted out of time with one another.

  “With all our soul and life.” Berengar’s voice took on a rusty edge as he gave the traditional response.

  The men surely noticed the waver in his voice, but they bowed their heads and said nothing more for a few beats.

  Berengar pointed at Nisero. The lieutenant straightened and stepped away from the wall in response. Berengar smiled. “Forseth needs to delegate my order to pour me a drink, Nisero. Are you up for the mission?”

  “I am, but I believe I may outrank Forseth, sir.”

  The men mumbled. One grunted, “Not in this room.”

  The unofficial retirement ceremony was an old tradition in the Elite Guard. It had more to do with the depth of the service and the age of the warriors than actual rank. The younger officers, regardless of rank, did not dare participate in the teasing.

  “In any room,” Nisero shot back. He was only in his thirties, but he was set to be promoted past some of his older, fellow warriors in the shuffle that would follow Berengar’s retirement. He would need to choose his steps wisely to keep his place with the men and properly command them, too. “Your time is slipping away though, old man. If you wish to order me directly, you better do so quickly.”

  Berengar spread his arms. “Start pouring and don’t stop until I pass or my rank does, whichever comes first.”

  The men cheered.

  Nisero saluted. “With all my soul and life, sir.”

  The men laughed and the crowd moved to the far side of the chamber to enjoy the drink and company. Two soldiers pulled Forseth to his feet and pushed him forward.

  Forseth accepted a mug and lifted it to the captain. “Keep an eye on him as he returns home, lieutenant Nisero.”

  “Still trying to give me orders, sir?” Nisero winked before he took a draw from his own mug.

  “Just a sincere request. He has earned a peaceful trip home to his family.”

  “I will see to it.” Nisero nodded.

  Captain Berengar leaned over his mug and grew quiet as the attention of the men left him and went to their drink, finally.

  ***

  Berengar rode high in his saddle, and silent. Nisero rode beside him as they followed the road away from the barracks. Few men had risen from their slumber to see the former captain off. If Nisero were not accompanying Berengar, he would have been sleeping off the punishment for his heavy celebration as well. Berengar would have gladly let the young brother-in-arms sleep as he rode back to his village alone, but Nisero would never dream of it. This might be the last respect the lieutenant could ever show his elder and mentor. He would not fail him in this final honor.

  They stopped to eat from their supplies on the side of the road. Berengar stayed silent as he stared off into the distance as he chewed. Nisero tried to remember if the captain had spoken a word since the drink was poured the previous night.

  “Are you ready to start again, sir?” Nisero asked. His voice sounded strange to him in the silence. It was as though the air carried a weight, and pulled down the words as they left his mouth.

  Berengar did not respond or look away from the trees beyond the empty fields. Nisero started to question whether he had actually spoken aloud at all. The captain swiped his hands up and down past each other to clap them clean. He stood and approached his horse.

  Nisero swallowed and stood as well. “Is something amiss
, Captain?”

  Berengar mounted and inclined his head toward the lieutenant still on the ground. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re quiet.”

  The corner of Berengar’s mouth twitched up slightly, but then flattened back to neutral. “You want me to make noise for you, lieutenant?”

  “No, sir.” Nisero pulled himself up into his saddle and wheeled his horse around to face the road. He chuckled and said, “That’s not what I’m saying. You are just a bit distant and dark. Your spirit seemed sullen for a ride home.”

  “You know me, brother. I’ve never been one to whistle a tune to fill the silence.” Berengar kicked the horse’s haunches and took to the hard packed road again.

  Nisero whipped his horse forward with the loop of his reins until he was at the captain’s shoulder again. “You were a bit more jovial last night, I noticed.”

  Berengar allowed a hint of a smile to creep over his lips. “Was I? That doesn’t sound like me at all, and I’ve known myself for quite some time.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ve known you a while too. I suppose you were actually boisterous for the first portion, and then your old self the rest of the night.”

  Berengar nodded, but kept his eyes fixed forward. “The men served a number of years beside me and under my command. Some others left this world before I left this service. I felt I had to give them something for their troubles.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Besides, they were rubbing my head. Did you see it?”

  “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t.”

  “I may have struck Forseth too smartly. I should have apologized before I left for good.”

  Nisero laughed out loud and his voice echoed across the open land. “Don’t bother. I heard he went to a tavern before the night was over and told some maiden he was wounded by an ogre.”

  “That so?” The captain shook his head. “I’ve never seen an ogre in all my travels. You, Nisero?”

  “Only in story books, sir.”

  “I feel safer already then.”

  They rode in silence until the sky grew dark, then they left the road to build a fire. The captain prepared his bedding like he was looking to turn in quickly.

  Nisero spoke. “You said you were leaving for good?”

  Berengar laid down and turned to face the fire. “How’s that?”

  “You said when you left the barracks this morning that it was for good.”

  The captain continued to stare into the flame. “Were we unclear during last night’s party what retirement means, Nisero?”

  Nisero sniffed and looked away. “No, sir, I’m clear. I guess I just thought you would find your way back to check on us at some point.”

  Berengar did not answer, and Nisero thought he had gone to sleep. He began to prepare his own bedding.

  Berengar’s voice cut through the darkness from the other side of the flames and Nisero startled. “It wouldn’t be the same place I had left, and I wouldn’t be the same person that left.”

  “I understand, Captain.”

  Nisero had some trouble finding sleep at first. He stared through the flames at the captain’s shadowed shape beyond. When he did sleep, he dreamed the captain was burning in his bed and Nisero could not reach him through the flames.

  ***

  They covered more miles the next morning. Their pace was not noticeably faster, but the ground seemed to slip by under them with more intensity. The plains gave way to foothills and the jagged mountains grew blue and hazy through the whiteness of the horizon. Soon the trees were thicker along the road and the mountains were obscured.

  “You are ready,” Berengar said.

  Nisero’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sir?”

  “For your promotion… it will come soon and you will be captain of the men.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re ready. You will serve well and lead well, just as you have done by my side, Nisero.”

  Nisero swallowed a dry lump in his throat. “That means a great deal from your lips, sir.”

  “It’s the truth. King and Country will be safe under your able watch.”

  Birds filled the silence between the two men with their own whistles.

  “Will you miss it, sir?”

  Berengar’s mouth turned up at one side and wrinkles formed beside both eyes. “At this point, I am probably more suited for war than I am to waking in my own, warm bed.”

  “I’m sure you will adjust to your new life.”

  “Perhaps. To fully confide in you though, my brother, I fear the adjustment will be harder on my wife and children.”

  “Your children are nearly grown themselves,” Nisero said. “I imagine your son will be nearly passing us on the road to join the service, and soon your daughter will be given in marriage.”

  Berengar bowed his head and scratched at his beard. “Don’t remind me. I’m sure I will not be able to talk Hallen out of joining the King’s army in the spring, and I do not want to even think about my daughter being wed. Keeping her home and safe until seventeen years has been a war of its own.”

  Nisero laughed. “You would discourage your son from joining?”

  Berengar shrugged. “I’ll make a show of it to keep his mother happy.”

  They rode in a comfortable silence, snacking on dried jerky from their packs.

  “What is your village’s name, sir? I just realized I do not know it.”

  Berengar did not answer and Nisero looked over to see the captain staring at the sky. The captain whispered, “Patron’s Hill.”

  Nisero saw the specs of ash sprinkle down around him before he smelled the smoke. When he looked back at the captain, he again saw the man’s eyes squinted to a point above the trees. Nisero followed his gaze and saw three pillars of white smoke twisting up into the sky. More ash snowed onto the path ahead of them, and the smell of it grew stronger.

  Berengar licked his lips and said, “That is closer to our destination than I like.”

  “Your village?” Nisero looked from the smoke to the captain and back. “Do you want to make for a gallop?”

  “Whatever it is, it is done by now.”

  “Your meaning, sir?”

  “The smoke is white. That is a fire that has finished burning. Black smoke would be a fire growing.”

  “I hope all is well.”

  “We’ll know soon enough. Hopefully, the forest and crops were not too badly burned.”

  They rode at a trot along the twists of the path. The ashes and stench grew thicker. The birds no longer whistled for them.

  They rounded another bend and Nisero stopped short. The first buildings were charred walls and blackened foundations. He saw the shapes of burned bodies in the street, twisted in final agony. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth.

  Captain Berengar charged toward the smoke at full gallop.

  Chapter 2: Investigating Suffering

  Nisero weaved around the remains in the roadway as he tried to keep up with the captain. The smoke from a building he could not identify dried his eyes and drew tears. The lieutenant dropped his head and coughed as he cleared the plumes of white smoke. He waved his hand in front of his face and squinted, but Berengar was out of sight by the time he focused on the remains of the village again.

  He had seen carnage before this day. Nisero, under Berengar’s command, had pursued enemies along devastating paths of pillage and death. Today there seemed to be no path. This was the former captain’s destination, and it was destroyed.

  He swallowed on a dry throat and pulled his horse up short in the midst of the smoldering ruins. Bodies marked the street in charred, blackened death. Many lay outside the ruined doorways of their homes.

  Nisero felt his stomach twist and his head swim with sorrow for his captain. He was not seeing a single survivor and he was not hopeful for the captain’s family as a result. He swallowed again and tried to clear his head of the fog of sympathy and vicarious anger.

 
Something about the scene around him bothered him beyond the destruction of his friend’s people. Several things seemed out of place from Nisero’s already too vast experience with scenes of razing and destruction.

  He took a deep breath of acidic smoke and closed his gritty eyes. He cleared his mind of distractions and opened them again. A nagging in his soul told him these details were important and the captain would be in no condition to see them himself. Berengar would depend upon his lieutenant to see the truth for him.

  Someone had pulled the bodies from the burning houses it seemed, but far too late. Nisero shook his head. Here was the first problem he saw. There were no survivors to have done the work. None of the houses had been doused with the least drop of water. They had burned themselves out to the white smoke, as the captain had observed from a distance. Even if the rescuer had died in his or her attempts to save the villagers, they would now be laying where they fell. These bodies were placed. Nisero also saw that all were burned down to the carbon as if dipped into volcanoes. If they had been pulled from the fires, they would be in different phases of burning—some worse than others.

  Nisero looked down as he guided his mount around a curled body that could no longer be distinguished as man or woman. A dark ring of scorched ground circled the body with blackened slashes radiating out from the ring, like the rays of a dark, evil sun.

  “You were burned on the spot where you lie.” Nisero looked over to another body. Part of her dress still clung to her chest in melted shreds, but the rest was gone. She was circled by the ring of black sun as well. “You all were.”

  Nisero allowed his eyes to pass over the piles of ash in the collapsed homes. The shapes of tables and the blistered boards of flooring flowed past his line of sight, one atrocity after another. “Why?”

  Nisero’s eyes fixed on a detail he had seen pass before him multiple times, but only now registered for what it was. He jerked his reins harder than he intended and nearly pulled his horse to rear on its back hooves. The animal snorted and bobbed its head. Nisero dismounted and the horse tried to pull away. The lieutenant doubled the leather over in his fist and pulled the beast by her snout. He figured she was bothered by the scene and the smoke. Nisero rubbed her sweaty neck and waited for her muscles and fight to relax a bit.