The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set

by Heidi Catherine

  He reached under the covers and scratched an itch in the coarse hair below the generous girth of his stomach, aware of his manhood standing to attention, ready to serve him if required, much like his army below. That was what was needed to get respect. How could his daughter possibly rule a kingdom? What would drive her to attack, to protect, to succeed? Nothing. This wasn’t a job for a woman.

  “Queen!” he bellowed, waiting for her to appear by his side, as he was certain she would. She knew better than to keep him waiting. He had an itch he needed scratched and it was her job to do it. There were plenty of other women who’d gladly take her place if he grew tired of her. And with her pregnant belly and sagging tits, he was already starting to think that way. Perhaps it was time for a new Queen?

  Where the hell was she? He needed her now.

  “Queen!”

  The door to his bedchamber opened and in stepped his Queen, still wearing her nightgown. She’d been so beautiful when he’d first met her. It was such a shame he couldn’t have frozen her looks in that exact moment of time. Still, putting up with her aging was probably easier than training a new woman to satisfy his needs.

  “My Lord,” she said, stepping into the light. Her face was pale, in a way he was familiar with. She’d had one of her visions, which clearly were his departed ancestors talking to him, choosing to use her as a vessel, so as not to exhaust him in the way it seemed to exhaust her.

  This was another reason he kept the Queen around. Without her, how would his ancestors talk to him?

  He sat up in bed, forgetting his primal urges of only moments before. If his ancestors needed to talk to him, then he needed to listen. He was no fool.

  She lay down on his bed next to him, her long blonde hair haloing her face, contrasting against his dark bed linen. She always looked younger after a vision. Like a tired, pathetic little girl.

  “Speak!” he said, wishing she’d hurry up. “We must hear the message now.”

  “Give me just a moment, please, My Lord.” She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Hopeless woman. He’d never once seen a man behave like this. Such theatrics!

  He clutched her nightdress at the neckline, drawing the fabric together.

  She gasped at the tightness around her throat. Good. Let her feel some anguish too. It wasn’t fair for her to make him suffer like this. She knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

  “We cannot wait all day,” he hissed, loosening the fabric to allow her some air that might bring with it some words.

  “It was a big vision this time,” she said, gasping for air between words. He noticed the lack of oxygen had brought some color to her face. It’d done her some good. It was just as well he knew what she needed.

  “It was an important vision,” she said. “The most important I’ve ever had.”

  “Speak to the point! We can’t understand such nonsense.” Why couldn’t women say what they meant? Why so many words to say so little?

  “There’s a way for you to rule all the kingdoms.” Her eyes glazed over, as if his ancestors were speaking to her still.

  “All of them?” This was impossible. Nobody could rule all the kingdoms. No King had ever come close. Forte Cadence was already the largest of the five kingdoms. If he could take over just one more, he’d be the most powerful ruler of all time.

  The itch in his groin returned and he reached down to adjust his manhood.

  “There’s a power greater than swords,” his Queen said. “Greater than combat with the most skilled set of hands. No King has discovered it. You can be the first. And with it, you can be untouchable. The greatest King the world has ever seen.”

  “Speak! What power is this? We must know. Tell us immediately.” He grabbed at her throat again, trying to force the words from her mouth, wishing his ancestors had taken a more direct route this time than to use this stupid woman as a conduit.

  “Words,” she said, grabbing at his hands, trying to draw them away from her neck. “Please, my Lord, let me speak.”

  “Then speak!” He spat at her as he released her throat, watching his saliva land on her forehead and run down her nose. It was an excellent shot. “What power is it that we must get our hands on?”

  “Words are the power. Words. Spoken words. They hold all kinds of magic.” Her eyes were wide open, only she seemed to be looking straight through him. She often looked at him in this way and he didn’t like it. She should be honored to look directly in the face of her King. It was a privilege not extended to many.

  He leaped from the bed and paced the room, wondering how he’d been so foolish to make such an idiot woman his Queen. Words! Ridiculous. What use were words in a battle?

  “You put the words out in the air and leave them there for the universe to hear,” she said, daring to wipe the saliva from her face with the hem of her nightdress. This annoyed him further. He liked seeing the stain of spit on her forehead, as a reminder of who had control over this situation.

  He picked up the sword he kept next to his bed and waved it in the air, pretending to battle an imaginary solider. “So, we ask the other army nicely to pretty please put down their swords?”

  The Queen stared at him, knowing better than to interrupt when he was enjoying himself with her like this.

  “Please sir,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, not unlike the Queen’s annoying tone. “Would you mind please putting down your sword, so we can kill you and take over your kingdom? Why, thank you. Much obliged.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” Her voice was quiet, like the small child’s intellect she possessed.

  He swung his sword to point at her chest, directly over her heart. “Then what exactly do you mean, Queen?”

  “If you say something out loud, the universe hears.” She grasped the blade of his sword and tried to shift it from her chest. He held it firm, her pathetic hands no match for his brute male strength. He would be the one to decide when the sword moved. A bright red drop of blood dripped from her hand to her nightdress, landing on the white fabric and expanding to a large blotch over her pregnant belly. The belly that held what he hoped would be a son this time. A son that was keeping his mother alive just as much right now as she was giving him life.

  “Keep talking,” he said. “Use these words you speak of to tell us what you mean.”

  “When we speak, the universe hears. If we speak of something as if it’s already happened, then we can fool the gods, and it will become reality.” Another drop of blood landed on her nightgown and he removed the sword, not wanting her mess on his bedsheets.

  “This sounds like nonsense.” He was disgusted by this woman before him. Perhaps he should make a big mess of her and be done with it. After his son was born, of course.

  “The more people who say it, the more likely it will come true.” She wrapped her hand in the fabric of her nightdress, her blood mingling with his spit.

  “Give an example of how this might make King Virtus the ruler of all the kingdoms in the world.” He really was a merciful King, hearing her out like this. The fact that every single one of her previous visions had proven to be correct was what was weighing on his mind. Why would all of them be true and this be utter nonsense?

  “Instead of training fighters to protect our land, you train an army to say, “Our Kingdom is free from invasion,” over and over and over. The universe hears this and makes it true. We will be free from invasion for the rest of our days.”

  He rubbed at his chin, wondering if it could be as simple as this. “And how does this stretch the borders of Forte Cadence?”

  “You have your army say ‘The kingdom of Wintergreen belongs to King Virtus.’ And so it will come to be.” She smiled as if this would make him believe.

  He considered what she was saying, liking the idea of it. And how could it hurt to have his soldiers wish as they marched?

  “We will speak to the Commander,” he said, taking steps toward the door. “He can instruct the army on what they must say.”

>   “My Lord,” the Queen said. “Not yet. You need a new army. A special sort. The most powerful army the world has ever seen.”

  “Our army is the most powerful.”

  “No, my Lord. Our army isn’t the most powerful.” She shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering over her shoulders, reminding him why he’d called her in here in the first place. Except this didn’t excuse what she’d just said.

  “It’s not our army, you idiot woman!” he said, leaning in closer so she understood. “I said our army to mean my army. It’s not yours or your stupid daughters’ army. It’s mine. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, pulling away from him ever so slightly, as if he wouldn’t notice. “Sorry, my Lord. However, there’s a special type of soldier needed for this. Soldiers who have a gift even they don’t know they possess. Your army won’t be useful for this. But I know how to find your new soldiers.”

  “Then they must be found. King Virtus must be the most powerful King the world has ever seen.”

  “Yes, my Lord. You must.” She bowed her head and he went to her and tore her blood-stained nightgown from her hand and lifted it over her head. She may be fat with his child, but she belonged to him. It was his right to take her.

  He was the King. The ruler of Forte Cadence and soon to be the ruler of the world. The world had never seen anyone like him. As he positioned himself above the Queen, he imagined himself through her eyes.

  Strong. Powerful. Merciful. Masculine. It was no wonder she was so keen to bear his children. A woman’s purpose was to find herself a man who could spill the highest quality seed inside her. And his Queen had done better than any woman who’d ever drawn breath. He had to give her credit for that. She’d fulfilled her quest as a female to perfection.

  Clever whore.

  KING VIRTUS

  THE AFTER

  “The Whisperers are whispering. The Whisperers are whispering.”

  King Virtus stood on the balcony of the arena and clasped his hands. Whisperings never failed to send shivers down his spine.

  From where he stood, the Whisperers looked like an army of beetles with their hoods pulled over their heads. He loved it. A thousand filthy insects ready to whisper for whatever his heart desired.

  When his grandfather had this arena built, it was for fighting with swords instead of words. As a small child, he’d loved watching the soldiers train, knowing they were learning skills to protect him. He’d thought there was nothing more magnificent he could ever see. Except he’d been wrong. Because this sight was far, far more magnificent.

  He’d done well to immediately recognize the truth in the message from his ancestors about the power of speech. His stupid Queen had had no idea of the importance of the message she was passing on. But he’d known as soon as he’d heard it. Perhaps he should whisper for his ancestors to go directly to him the next time they had something important like that to say. It was odd that they trusted a woman with something like that. Especially one as stupid as his wife.

  He’d never admit to anyone that he’d tried to bring on the visions himself, lying in his bed and staring into the darkness, waiting for something to appear. Much to his frustration, nothing had ever happened. Clearly, his ancestors were protecting him. The visions would be too draining. He needed his strength to rule the kingdom. There was no other explanation.

  At least he’d been clever enough to select a wife who could do this for him. Not that he’d known it at the time. He’d married her because the first time he’d seen her beauty, he’d been unable to stop imagining the handsome son she could produce for him. And after the son, perhaps a few pretty daughters to show off at parties. He hadn’t realized it would happen the other way around, with the daughters coming before the son.

  He watched the Conductor lift his sword above his head, scanning the room for any disobedient beetles. They all seemed to be in line. Pity. It was always such good sport to see one of them lose their head.

  As the Conductor’s eyes continued to scan the room, King Virtus cursed his great-great-great-great-grandfather who’d changed the law, so the first-born child would be the heir, no matter their gender. Apparently, that particular King Virtus had a daughter, who was both his first-born and his favorite child. He claimed she was the most intelligent of all his children, which seemed impossible given he also had several sons. So, he had the law changed. Then the daughter had died in her sleep one night and her younger brother had ended up as heir, making the change completely unnecessary and extremely bothersome for the generations to follow. His great-great-great-great-grandfather had been so distraught at his daughter’s death that he’d thrown himself out the window and killed himself. The only silver lining in this whole sorry tale was the hopeful thought that maybe the daughter had been poisoned by her brother, which would prove that he’d been smarter than her after all. Young girls didn’t usually die in their sleep without at least a little help.

  The King cleared this throat, impatient for the Conductor to finish checking his beetles. They all seemed to be doing what they were supposed to do at this stage of the ceremony, which was precisely nothing.

  That ridiculous new law designed to protect the King’s precious daughter had really only served to do the opposite, not just to her, but to all his first-born granddaughters of the future. This included the girl the Queen had given birth to, not long after she’d told him of her vision of the Whisperers. His fourth daughter. His fourth disappointment. And now the Queen was pregnant again, this time with his son and finally his plan was back on track. Soon a Prince would be born and he’d make certain he became the next King. It was a little bit of a shame, though. His daughters were pleasant distractions. His eldest daughter, Rose, was brighter than most girls her age (not that that made her especially bright, of course). She’d seemed particularly happy when he’d seen her earlier in the day, humming to herself. Perhaps her mother had bought her a new dress or tried a new style in her hair. He had no idea how a teenage girl’s mind worked. Seeing her happy like that had convinced him that he’d done the right thing. Nineteen years of life was far better than no life at all. He was a good man.

  At last, the Conductor brought down the sword and lifted his face to lock eyes with the King, waiting for his signal to start.

  As keen as he was to get started, King Virtus decided to wait a few moments, just to prove who was really in charge here.

  If only he could change the law back. It wasn’t that simple or he’d already have done it. Nobody alive today had been around in his great-great-great-great-grandfather’s days and his people had been led to believe that the laws of Forte Cadence were firmly set and not up for negotiation.

  If he changed one law, it wouldn’t be long before they demanded other changes. He knew the laws around property ownership were particularly contentious, especially for families without a son. They’d insist on handing down their properties to their daughters and this was as ludicrous an idea as a woman ruling a kingdom.

  The Conductor held his gaze as he waited, with no sign of any impatience.

  He really was a good Conductor. The best one he’d had. The two who’d come before him had been useless. Soft. Treating the Whisperers like humans instead of the nameless insects that they were. One Conductor had been a woman. No surprise she’d lasted the shortest time of all. He’d been saying it his whole life… women were for breeding, not for leading. He’d had both those Conductors killed. But not this one. He’d been conducting for five years now and had a skill for it. He didn’t just do the job—he enjoyed the job. The first Conductor to realize he had the best job in the world. After the King himself, of course.

  King Virtus continued to take his time. So many bodies frozen, waiting for his command.

  He’d given the Conductor his Whisper earlier in the day. The Queen was getting very close now to giving birth. Soon, his greatest wish would come true. He needed to make sure nothing went wrong.

  He stood up straight, smoothing his robe over his flat
stomach, glad he’d had the Whisperers sort out his physique early in their service. With his full head of hair and muscular build, the Queen couldn’t get enough of him when he called her to his bed. He’d never looked so good. Neither had she since he’d whispered for her looks to be restored. It was incredible to have such a young-looking woman convulse with pleasure underneath him again.

  Taking in a deep breath, he nodded. Only a slight movement, yet enough for the Conductor to see.

  “The Prince is a healthy and strong baby,” the Conductor whispered.

  The first row of beetles lifted their heads and slipped off their hoods, looking up at their leader.

  “The Prince is a healthy and strong baby,” the Conductor whispered again.

  The first row stood, so silently that it felt for a moment as if the King had lost his hearing.

  “The Prince is a healthy and strong baby,” they whispered.

  At the command of their Conductor, each row stood to join the chorus of whispers, until finally, one thousand beetles were sending the King’s wish rising into the air, swirling above the golden roof of the arena and flying out for the universe to hear.

  He was going to have a healthy and strong son. He was going to be a father! Well, a father to a boy for the first time and it was the greatest feeling he’d ever known. How proud his own father would be if he were here to see this.

  The Whisperers chanted his wish, over and over and over, until each of them had spoken it one thousand times. The King always stayed until the very end, reveling in the sound of his heart’s desire echoing off the walls. It was just as well it was the Conductor’s job to keep count, as he’d get lost in a fantasy, visualizing his wish coming true.

  Today he was seeing his son standing by his side. He pictured him with dark hair that fell in waves around his face, as his own hair had done when he was a child. There was no sign of the Queen in the boy’s face in this fantasy. He was a replica of himself at around ten years of age, still young enough to be a boy, yet old enough to understand the responsibilities that lay ahead of him. He was sensible, wise, fair, handsome. So much like himself that the King just knew people were going to stop and stare when they saw him with his son.