The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set

by Tricia Copeland

  “I was following Erik’s lead, letting you seek information without bias.” As we scurry over rocks and around trees, Will tells me the story of Erik’s love for a girl, a girl his parents arranged to marry his older brother. How Erik begged his brother to refuse, but his brother would not give her up.

  “How long ago was this? Did Erik ever take a mate?”

  “Some seven hundred years ago and, to my knowledge, no. He lives in that hut with his old witch. I think the two are friends even though they seem to hate each other.”

  I ask how the witch came to be captured, but Will hadn’t heard that story. It isn’t far before the ground levels out and we wade through wet bogs.

  “We should cut inland,” I suggest, hearing Will sigh for the thousandth time.

  “Now I know what being human feels like,” he complains. “But we’re stuck. We won’t be clear of the Artic tribe’s borders till we hit the sea.”

  “Who is the tribe to the south? Tell me of the neighboring peoples.”

  Will describes the tribe to the south, the Finns who live off water species. Theirs is thought to be a strong tribe, with the groups to the east being lesser in numbers. I start to see a pattern of more powerful groups abutting each other’s land and weaker groups neighboring each other. I wonder if the smaller groups will be more amenable to talking to me.

  But I crave the knowledge I can gain from the elders of power. My ancestors seem to be pulling at my soul, harkening me to be one with our story. Maybe it’s just Alec’s soul I wish to be united with and am scared to admit it. I figure that path of thought will have me spiraling into the abyss of my grief as sure as the mud seems to be sucking me into its grasp. Of course, if Erik’s story is true, we are soulless creatures, damned to hell forever, never finding peace or reuniting with our loved ones. My heart yearns for the comfort of Elizabeth’s embrace, and bloody tears form in my eyes.

  “Female younglings.” Behind me, Will releases a long breath. “So emotional.”

  My rage boils under my skin, and my fangs release without me being able to check my reaction. But I will not give him the pleasure of seeing that he affects me. I exhale and my fangs retract into my gums. “You may walk ahead of me if you wish. Far ahead will be acceptable to me.”

  “The enemies are closer to our back for the moment.”

  Pushing my legs to their full function, I plod ahead of him, getting as much distance as possible. It’s daybreak before we dare take even a mouse for sustenance. Finding a hare, I scale a tree to eat and rest. Will and I take shifts to rest during the day. One day flows into the next as we plod south at barely one and a half times a human’s pace. We make more progress by resting for only one four-hour shift each day.

  In eight days we reach the sea and the buffer between the Artic and Finn tribes. I run onto the sand. The silt is soft beneath my feet, and I press my toes into the cool dirt. The blue water stretches out before me as if it will never end. I shed my bag and my clothes and plunge into the waves. Will jumps in behind me but keeps his distance. I dive under the water and surface again and again, swimming away and back to the spot where I’d dropped my things. When my muscles tire to exhaustion, I kick to the shore.

  Having dried and dressed, Will holds a blanket out to me. “One would think you’d never swum before.”

  I take the fabric and wrap it around my middle. “I haven’t. This is the first time I’ve ever been in the ocean. The closest I came is wading in a brook.” The thought of the small stream that ran through the woods behind the schoolhouse reminds me of Alec. I push out his memory as soon as it enters my head.

  “So, she does speak.” The side of his mouth turns up.

  “I talk to you.” I sit on the beach, staring out onto the sparkling waves as they reflect the sun’s light.

  “You haven’t uttered a word in nine days.”

  A smile forms on my face. “Are you lonely, Will?”

  “I’m used to the companionship of my fellow warriors.”

  “Tell me of that. Do you not have families, ever?”

  “In Erik’s tribe we swear to remain without mates.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  His eyes cut to the sand. “I lost my family at a young age. The warriors replaced them. I could not bear another blow such as that.”

  I shake my head and smile despite my hatred for him. “So, you have made fun of me, laughed at my grief, and you can’t bear another heartache of your own?” Then my thoughts harden. “Knowing your own grief, how could you cause the same in others?”

  He hangs his head but doesn’t answer. We sit there in silence as the sun dips into the sea. Will points to the sky. “If it were winter, we could see the northern lights.”

  “I’ve read of those.” My eyes scan the horizon. “The swallows have returned.”

  “They always return to their homes.”

  “Do you like the sea, Will?”

  “I do, my lady. But I also like the snow and the mountains and the lights in winter.”

  “I believe I shall see them before my trek is over.” Flakes of grit from the sea water fall from my skin as I stand. “I’m sticky from the surf.”

  “The fresh water from the tributary will help that.” Will notes the river flowing into the ocean.

  I shed my blanket and balance on the round stones until I get to a deep channel. I bathe in the clear cool water, running my fingers through my hair to relieve the tangles. Afterwards, I dry myself and sit on the bank, braiding my hair.

  “Do we wait for the Finn tribe tonight?” Will approaches.

  “Yes, and tomorrow we rest if they do not come.”

  Catching sight of a hare, I chase after it. Will and I share the blood, tear the meat from his bones, then build a fire. It’s the first time we have taken a meal together, and I wonder if I have accepted Alec’s death, if my grieving is over.

  “What would your English friends think of you now?” Will asks as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

  My animosity for him blazes anew. “You do not ever speak of my prior life to me again.” I kick dirt over the fire, grab my bag, and start off in the direction of the Finn’s border.

  Will keeps his distance, scouting for any signs of the Finn vampires. It isn’t an hour before the wind brings a new scent to my nose.

  “They are here.” Will’s words reach my ears seconds before he appears beside me. “I think you should use the medallion. Enemies of enemies make friends.”

  I pull the necklace over my head and hold it out in front of me.

  “Three.” Will whispers to me. He yanks his dagger from its sheath. “I can’t believe you don’t have a weapon. After this visit, I’ll teach you to fight.”

  “I thought that’s why you were here.” My mouth forms a smile before I can stop it.

  There is a rush of wind, and three beings appear twenty feet from us.

  “We mean no harm.” I hold the medallion up over my head.

  “You come from Erik of Norway via the Artic lands? Are you the woman Anne whose mate was killed for hunting across tribal lines?”

  I sigh, wondering if I’ll ever be anyone else. How could messengers make it to these tribes before we did? The questions mount in my head. I curse myself for not using Will to get more information.

  “We’re under orders to bring you to our leader.” The vampires begin to walk east.

  Side by side, Will and I follow them. It’s an hour before I catch the scent of a populated area. The village is teeming with life. Small younglings run between the houses, chasing each other. Women sit washing linens in large wooden buckets, while others tend fires. As we walk, I study them. Eyes dart to me and then back to their work.

  Our escorts weave through log structures caked with mud to the center of a village and then to a dwelling much like Erik’s. Two of the warriors take positions on each side of the doorway, and the third pushes the door open and enters, motioning for us to follow.

  Inside, the he
at from the fire engulfs me, and I almost lose my breath. I scan the structure, finding a small window just big enough for an exit if needed. Opposite the middle fire, three vampires, wrinkles creasing their skin, two females, one young and one old, and an old male, sit cross-legged, staring at me.

  I approach the fire. “I am Anne Scott.” I dip my head and lower myself to the ground, sitting as they do before the fire. “I hear my story precedes me.”

  The man clears his throat. “Your warrior may sit also. Please shed your traveling clothes.”

  Removing my bag and leather vest as well as the warm outer coat, I fold them in my lap. Will sheds his tunic and resumes his guard position beside me, standing with hands at his side inches from the weapons on his belt.

  “I see Erik welcomed you. You carry his medallion as a symbol of friendship,” the male vampire continues. “My name is Bjarke. This is Ida, my mate, and my daughter Deidra.” He motions to the women vampires beside them. Like Will and his tribe, they are fair-skinned, with light hair and eyes.

  “Thank you for welcoming me.”

  “I do so only out of courtesy to Erik. You may spend the eve with us and no more. I hear you have many questions. Please, begin.”

  It’s uncomfortable with the flames darting up between us, but I lift my chin and start with my wonderings as to the leadership, organization, and origin of their tribe.

  “Unlike humans and witches,” Bjarke’s left brow creeps up, “we have no need for written histories. Because we remember all, we pass our stories down through the generations. I hear humans have a bible and other books with history of their kind.”

  “This is so,” I confirm to him.

  “I hear witches alike have penned their chronicles.” His eyes pierce into mine.

  He relates how many of the tribes moved north as the numbers of humans and witches grew. “Witches,” he chuckles, “are much like humans. They prefer temperate regions.”

  “What of your people? How long have you ruled? How were you chosen leader? Is the eldest always the head of the tribe? Are leaders always male?”

  “Younglings.” His voice is light, but his stare is hard. “I, like my predecessor, fought in a test of wit, tactics, skill, and strength to win this title. Out of respect, we maintain leadership till our deaths, unless, and it is very rare, another may challenge. In the south, I hear of female rulers, but that has not been the custom in the north. I was nineteen when I bested the other contender. I am quite old now.” He raises his arm and twists it over, exposing lined sagging skin. “Eight hundred seventy-nine. I have four offspring.” Motioning to Deidra, a smile forms on his face. “What else, dear child?”

  “What of messengers? How do they manage gathering information?”

  “Aww, this is where you would be interested. The customs of the tribes in this area dictate each group be assigned eight messengers. They may wander where they will, hunting for sustenance without boundary. We maintain their sanctity for the good of all the tribes.”

  “So, you do look out for each other?”

  “Only in this, except for Erik and his brother. They do not honor each other’s messengers.”

  “And do you have the same law about hunting boundaries as the Norwegian tribes?”

  “Yes, we must maintain our food supply as do others.” He stands. “I have answered enough questions. You may rest here tonight and leave at dawn.”

  As he proceeds around the fire, his mate Ida and daughter Deidra follow. They exit the structure, leaving us alone.

  “It’s not as much as you wanted,” Will whispers.

  “No, I would like to know more of the history of his parents.”

  Will kneels beside me. “You should rest. I will keep watch.”

  “I’ll rise halfway through the night, so you can rest.”

  Fearing the unknown, it is hard to relax. I decide to trust Will and fall into a restful state. I’m rested when I sense motion in the room. I open my eyes to find Will pacing the space across the fire from me. “Is all well?”

  “Yes.” His eyes dart away from my gaze.

  I ignore that it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. “You can rest now. I will keep watch.”

  “Like that will do any good.” The sides of his mouth turn down. Still, he lays the weapons before me and lowers himself to the ground. Stretching out, he rests his head on his arm.

  I position myself, back to the wall between him and the door. As his eyes close, I study the sword in front of me. Orange and red flickers dance in the silver metal, reflecting flames of the fire. Wood on the handle, worn and smooth, beckons to me. I inch my hand to the sheath as if the instrument may come to life. Soft wood, as if it has been saturated by decades of wear, greets my fingertips. I keep my eyes trained on Will, wondering if he knows my hands lay on his sword. But his muscles don’t move.

  My senses follow the sounds and smells of the village as they swirl around me. It’s hours before I hear footsteps approach the door. Realizing my hand still lays atop Will’s sword, I draw it back.

  With one swift motion, Will snatches the instrument and jumps to his feet. The door creeks open, and he stands ready, sword in one hand, spear in the other.

  Bjarke straightens his back and broadens his shoulders as he enters the structure. “Stand down, boy; show some respect to your elders.”

  Will’s eyes cut to the dirt floor, and he lowers his weapons.

  Bjarke chuckles, and I refocus on him. “You make quite the pair, the great white warrior and small dark scholar. Tell me, what is your lineage, Anne of Scotts.”

  “My parents were Egyptian.”

  “That would explain the slight build and dark coloring. Southern vampires, so reckless.” His eyes wander to the wall behind me and then back to my face.

  “They moved north to France. I was born outside Paris.”

  “I hear they were murdered by witches. You may attain your prize yet. As for now, I ask you to go.” He steps back from the opening. “Keep on an eastern path, fifteen moons to the next border. You will understand that I can show you no further friendship. Erik’s brother to the north looks for any opportunity to strike out. You may drink from the streams and eat of the vegetation but take no animal from our lands.”

  Lifting my bag from the ground, I spin to face Bjarke. “I seek no prize. My only aim is to know my people.”

  “But therein lies your bounty.” He takes a step backwards, giving Will and me a clear path to the door.

  As we approach, Will pauses in front of Bjarke. “What of the fowl of the air and fish of the water?”

  “No animal within the boundaries of my lands.” Bjarke folds his arms over his chest.

  “So be it.” Will bows his head to Bjarke.

  We exit the structure and make our way between the houses, heading east. On the horizon, the sun threatens dawn. Fear grips my chest as we pass the last structure. My mind darts to my first days in England when Elizabeth worked for bread, how my stomach felt like it might eat itself.

  “Have you never been without meat?” Will’s voice brings me back from the brink of hysteria.

  “Are you part witch? Can you read minds?”

  “The smell of fear wafts off you like a wave on the ocean. Don’t worry, I’m a hunter, but I also know the plants of this region. Like the bears, we will eat the berries and leaves.”

  Reaching the trees, we pick up our pace. A Russian tribe lies east, beyond the lowlands of the Finn tribe. As he passes a tree, Will snatches a branch. He stops and waits for me to catch up. Placing the end of the stick on the ground beside me, he assesses its height. “It’ll do.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “A spear.” He starts to strip the small twigs from the main piece.

  Pulling a short knife from his belt, he shaves the bark from the shaft as we trudge through the bog. Finishing, he holds the staff out to me. I wrap my palm around the soft wood. He asks for it back and begins to whittle the end.

  By midday he�
�s happy with the result. Balancing the weapon on his palms, he holds it in front of me. “You have fifteen moons to practice.”

  “Thank you.” I wrap my hands around the instrument. Testing its weight, I fling it some fifty feet in front of me. It hits a tree and bounces off.

  “Careful. I didn’t spend half a day on that for you to ruin it.” Will races to retrieve the spear.

  Catching up with him, I survey the surroundings. Low bushes coat the ground, and I start to wonder if Bjarke meant to include insects in his no-animal edict. Will begins to catalog the leaves and berries that can and cannot be eaten. I scout the brambles and spot some red berries within minutes.

  “We’re lucky it’s high summer. In winter we would starve. We should head south within thirty moons.”

  “We’ll see when the time comes.” I survey a hard, red berry and fit it between my teeth.

  Biting down, a tart juice erupts from the sphere. Still, the sour liquid isn’t unbearable. By the time I’ve consumed a handful of the small fruit, I grow to like them.

  “We should pick as we walk. I fear for our muscle tone. If you’re training, then you’re going to need meat sooner than later.”

  I follow Will’s lead, taking berries from some of the bushes we pass. Once I’ve eaten my fill, I stockpile them in my pockets for later. We walk through the night with Will instructing me as to the form of launching the spear. I practice hurling it into the earth, first with my right hand and then with my left.

  By daybreak, my arms and shoulders sear with wear. We decide to rest when the sun is up and travel at night. The first day, I’m exhausted and rest comes easily, but it’s several days afterwards before my body switches to the traditional vampire resting schedule.

  Growing muscle takes a lot of energy, and I never feel full. The elk, wolves, fox, badgers, and even the tall wading birds seem to call to me, causing my mouth to water.

  “Now, I teach you combat,” Will announces on the fifth day of our travels.

  I shake my head. “I don’t wish to know how to fight.”