Copyright © T.L. Branson 2018
The right of T.L. Branson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be edited, transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), or reproduced in any manner without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles. It may not be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s permission. Permission can be obtained through www.tlbranson.com
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Certain events may have been adapted from history, but do not contain any real details.
1st Edition 2018
Published by T.L. Branson
Cover Illustration by Guilherme Batista
Cover Layout by T.L. Branson
Created with Vellum
Contents
Books And Stories By T.L. Branson
Notifications
Map of Aralith
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Sneak Peek
Books And Stories By T.L. Branson
SHORT STORIES AND NOVELLAS
Midnight Blade
Kingsbane
Ash and Steel
Sentinels of the Stone
Soul Siphon (Novella Collection)
NOVELS
Soul Render
Notifications
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Map of Aralith
1
Will Sumner was about to commit high treason.
Tonight he would find absolution. Tonight, he avenged his father’s death.
He and his two brothers crouched within the treeline outside the fortified abbey of Celesti. Two guards stood as stone sentinels at the servants’ entrance, the dim light of a lamp on the wall flickering in the night.
They wore leather armor and a simple black tunic featuring the royal crest: a dragon soaring into the skies. These were not Celesti’s common watchman, but the handpicked soldiers of Aralith’s tyrant king, Alexander Drygo. They arrived three days ago with a caravan carrying the king’s most valued possession, a magical stone said to hold the power to steal a man’s soul.
Will and his brothers were going to steal it.
Will picked up his bow. Its firm, comforting grip eased the flutter in his heart.
From within the trees, his younger brother, John, screamed, “Help!”
The guards at the door looked at each other, the light still flickering behind them. One of them said something, drew his sword, and approached the trees. As the first guard drew near, a spike of adrenaline coursed through Will’s veins. He pulled back on the bowstring and let an arrow fly. It zipped past the guard’s head and shattered the lamp, plunging the area into darkness.
Will held his breath.
A muffled grunt echoed through the trees followed by a dull thud.
Silence reigned again.
The sound of an owl broke the stillness and then another. Will exhaled with a shudder at the all clear.
They dragged the guards into the treeline, tied them up, and gagged them. Will stashed his bow in some overgrown bushes for retrieval on their way out. If they got caught, they hoped to pass as servants. Will ran a finger across the hilt of the knife at his waist, reassuring himself he wasn’t completely unprotected.
They darted for the servants’ entrance without a sound. Arriving first, his older brother, Robert, pulled the door open on silent hinges. Will followed John through the entranceway then Robert checked to make sure no one was coming and closed the door behind them.
Rough-hewn stone surrounded them on all sides carved directly from the mountain. They split up, each heading down a different corridor.
Will entered the abbey in the servants’ quarters. The hallway in front of him was long and dimly lit. He crept along, passing door after door. Obnoxious snores from the third door on the right reverberated through the hall, breaking the silence. At least he didn’t have to worry about being heard.
Easing open the next door, he found himself in a wide courtyard. Will gaped up at the high spires of the castle reaching to the stars.
He crept forward, scanning the courtyard. A church sat in the northeast corner. Several hundred years ago, only the church stood on the hill. They had built the castle around it as the city grew. Now it served as more of a fortress to protect the wealthy than a church.
The soft clicking of shoes drifted toward him on the night wind.
“Who’s there?” a guard called out.
Will’s heart rate increased.
He ducked behind the closest shrub and peered through its meager branches. A young maid emerged and quickly walked toward the guard, keeping her head down.
“You’re out late,” he said.
“I can go where I please, when I please, thank you,” she said, moving past them.
“I’d like to take you wherever I please,” the guard replied, making a grab at her.
Will gritted his teeth and stewed inside.
The woman swung her hand to slap the man, but he caught her wrist and pinned her against the wall. She spat in his face and he backhanded her.
It took every ounce of strength for Will to ignore it. He couldn’t risk getting caught. That didn’t make it any easier.
The guard released the maid and she hurried off.
Will slipped away while the guards attention was on her retreating form.
Two more guards roamed the grounds in the next courtyard. Noting their paths, he passed through them ducking from cover to cover. They were predictable and easy to avoid. Nobody broke into the abbey. To do so was a fool’s errand. Will guessed that made them fools.
Does standing up to tyranny make us fools or heroes? he wondered.
Will entered a door on the far side of the courtyard that led into the church proper. Stepping into a grand cathedral, he stood in awe of the vaulted ceilings and rows and rows of pews. He never came here. He was never allowed.
The cathedral’s crypt contained the passageway he sought. The map had shown an entrance at the front of the church and around the corner to the left of the altar.
He turned the corner to head for the door… and came face to face with a guard.
; “Oi, what’re you doin’ in ’ere?” he said, his fingers tightening on his iron halberd. He extended it, barring the entry.
Keeping his head down, Will replied, “I’ve come to seek guidance from my ancestors.”
“Visitin’ hours is over, get back to your room,” the guard said, suspicion in his eyes.
“But I come here all the time and it’s never been closed before.”
Will made for the door as though he expected the guard to grant him passage. The guard shoved him and he fell to the ground.
The guard approached and pointed his halberd a foot from Will’s face. Will pulled a knife from the waist of his trousers with his right hand, shoved the shaft of the halberd out of his face with his left, spun, and plunged the blade into the guard’s leg.
The guard fell to the floor and let out a scream. Removing the blade from the man’s leg, Will climbed over him and shoved the knife into his throat and yanked, severing his vocal cords. Will didn’t like the idea of killing. After all, the guard was just doing his job. But for Will, the man made his choice when he threw his lot in with that murderous king, Drygo, who’d slaughtered thousands, including Will’s father.
He wasn’t just doing this for his father. He was doing it for them. For all of them. For every person who’d ever lost a loved one to Drygo and to prevent anyone else from going through it. Will understood he was risking his life for their cause. He would find no mercy from Drygo and, if need be, he was prepared to show none in return.
A heavy patter of footsteps came from the crypt.
Will cursed under his breath.
He bolted in the opposite direction, flung open a door at the far end of the hall, and ducked into an alcove. The door to the crypt burst open a heartbeat later. The door he’d thrown open came crashing back.
“Go!” snarled a guard. “Find the one who did this. I’ll stay here in case he comes back.”
Will withdrew deeper into the shadows as a guard ran past and out the door. Peering around the corner at the remaining guard who knelt beside his comrade, trying to stem the bleeding, Will heard him muttering phrases like “Don’t die on me,” and “I’ll kill him.”
The halberd lay on the floor beside him. Will berated himself for leaving it behind. It could have come in useful. He had to get into that crypt.
Will gripped the knife in his hand and emerged from his cover. As he approached, the dying man lifted his finger and pointed at Will. As the kneeling guard turned his head, Will flipped the knife and flung it end over end—into the guard’s left eye.
He, too, let out a howl, falling to the ground, but didn’t give up as easily as his comrade. He drew his sword and slashed blindly. Out of pure reflex, Will reached out his right hand to stop its swing. Realizing his mistake, he pulled back, but it was too late. The guard caught a glancing blow across Will’s palm that opened it from top to bottom.
Pain shot up Will’s arm. He clenched his teeth and shrugged it off as best he could. Picking up the discarded halberd, he swung it at the guard’s sword, disarming him.
The guard started to call for help, but Will drove his foot into the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe. Then Will aimed the halberd at the guard’s heart, drove it home, and twisted.
With no time to waste, Will pulled his knife out of the guard’s now lifeless form, wiped it on his tunic, and slid it back into its sheath at his waist. He tore off a piece of that same tunic and wrapped it around his hand, blood beginning to soak through in seconds. The wound wouldn’t kill him, but it would sting.
He didn’t have time to get his brothers, but Will knew he’d found the right place. They wouldn’t normally guard the crypt… unless they feared an undead uprising.
Like that would ever happen, he thought.
Keeping the halberd for good measure, Will proceeded to enter the crypt.
One lone torch flickered at the entranceway, casting long shadows onto the stone floor and walls. The continual dripping of water echoed through the darkness accompanied by a musty odor that permeated the room.
According to the map, the hidden chamber should be off to the left. No cracks or identifiable marks showed on the brick wall. He stepped around a sarcophagus and began pushing bricks at random, hoping one would trigger the door.
Nothing.
Will tried in vain for another minute or two, but time was running out. In frustration, he kicked the sarcophagus. The lid slid open a few inches. He peered through the opening.
Instead of a body, he found a stairway.
The secret entrance wasn’t in the wall. It was in the floor. He had to go under the wall.
He grabbed the torch by the door and took the stairs two at a time, not worrying about being discovered.
He entered the chamber at the bottom of the stairs.
To Will’s dismay, it was filled with junk: broken pots; old books, torn and burnt; and splintered wood. One of the bookcases had fallen over, spilling its contents onto the floor. He expected to find the gem in some secret treasure room, a hidden weapons stash, or a vault where Celesti’s nobles kept their valuables. He was beginning to doubt whether he’d found it after all.
He placed the torch in the sconce on the wall and surveyed the rest of the room. Bookcases lined the walls to the left and right. They contained hundreds of books and a few other random items like a globe and a small bust. At the opposite side of the chamber sat a small desk with a lamp, presumably for reading.
Dirt and grime covered everything. Nobody had touched these books in decades. Upon closer inspection, Will noticed a few dust-free books sat on one of the shelves to the right. He leaned the halberd against the wall and pulled the books off the shelf, hoping he’d hear the click of a secret door opening.
No such luck.
You read too many stories, Will thought, laughing at himself.
He opened the books, held them by their covers, and shook them to see if something would fall out. A few loose pages fluttered to the floor, but nothing more. Will shoved the books back on the shelf and heard a hollow thud as they hit the back of the bookcase.
Will cocked his head and narrowed his eyebrows. He began removing the books one at a time.
The guards will be on me any minute.
He reached in and pushed the whole row of books off the shelf, adding them to the pile on the floor. He rapped his knuckles on the back of the bookcase and determined the hollowed out area was about two feet wide. He couldn’t find a latch.
“I don’t have time for this,” he said to himself.
Will picked up the halberd again and rammed the blade into the back of the bookcase. The wood splintered. A few more strikes opened up a sizeable hole. Throwing the halberd on the ground, Will pulled out his blade and pried at the panel.
It snapped loose a moment later. A small wooden box lay inside.
“What have we here?” Will asked no one in particular. “Maybe all that reading paid off after all.”
He pulled it out, undid the latch, and popped the lid with care. Reaching in with his good hand, he pulled out a finely cut blue gemstone and held it up to the light.
Its surface bore the symbol of a rising sun representing the goddess Lotess. Warmth emanated from it and it weighed more than it should for a stone its size. Something swirled and writhed with life beneath the surface.
The Soul Render, rumored to have the ability to steal a man’s soul.
Will wanted to see if he could unlock its secrets where others had failed, but he didn’t have time. He couldn’t carry everything, so he left the halberd and the torch, trusting he could find his way back in the dark. Without another moment’s hesitation, he left the chamber.
The crypt showed no sign of pursuit.
Maybe that guard stopped to use the privy first, he thought, chuckling.
Exiting the crypt, Will retraced his path through the church. As he stepped into the courtyard, someone slammed him from behind. The gem flew into the air. He reached for it with his injured hand as he placed
his good hand down to brace his fall.
He caught it and winced as the weight of the gem hit his palm, sending pain down his arm. Fresh blood oozed from the wound escaping the saturated makeshift bandage.
“Don’t move,” his assailant called from behind.
He chanced a glance back. Another halberd hovered a foot from his face. The soft echoes of pounding boots drew closer. They would soon surround him.
Will offered up a quick prayer of deliverance to the goddess of the stone, but before he could begin to craft a clever plan to escape, the symbol on the gem in his hand glowed white. Will’s eyes opened wide. The guard behind him backed away with caution.
Will stared at the gem. A hissing sound issued from its depths. A glowing blue mist sprang from the gem, circled around him, then disappeared inside his body. As quick as it began, it ended. He continued to stare at the gem in his hand. It had darkened considerably, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, it now weighed less and had lost its warmth.
What just happened? he thought.
He looked at the gem again then at his body. He didn’t feel any different. He didn’t look any different. The gem certainly didn’t steal his soul.
Questions would have to wait until later. The guard at his back began to approach again and the others would soon be on him.
Soul Render (Soul Stones Book 1) Page 1