Contents
Title
Chapter One
PART ONE
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
PART TWO
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
PART THREE
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
PART FOUR
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
PART FIVE
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
PART SIX
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
PART SEVEN
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Other Books by this Author
A Note from Jake
HEARTSTONE
Jake Allen Coleman
Copyright © 2019 Mark Coleman
All rights reserved. This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the copyright owner and publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
Chapter One
A sea of soft grey surrounded Sebastian on all sides, bringing with it a sense of peace. He had found a place of refuge here, in his dreams. A refuge from the places he'd been, all he had seen, everything he'd done. The one thing they still wanted him to do.
The pull came as it so often did, drawing him away from his refuge. He resisted it. He did not want to know. It tugged insistently, demanding his attention. Stronger than before, it felt different this time.
Giving himself over, it drew him through the gray mist. Faster and faster he flew until everything stopped. The tower loomed above him, rising from the mist, all its windows dark save one that glowed red. He knew this tower, having glimpsed it before, and that one window always glowed with an inner fire. What was in that room? Who would abide in such a place?
He took a step toward the tower and, in the way of dreams, everything shifted. Walking up a spiral staircase illuminated with the dimmest of moonlight, he came to a door cracked ever so slightly. A devilish red light streamed out onto the stairs. Fear gripped his heart as the pull returned, drawing him to the door.
He reached out and pushed it open, allowing the light to fall across his face. The glow came from nowhere and everywhere all at once and illuminated a stone table in the center of the chamber. Taking one tentative step forward he passed over the threshold and swayed as the walls receded into the distance.
Finding himself next to the table he looked down at the playing board lying there. A game was in progress and it was hard to tell who was winning. He blinked and two robed playing pieces shifted, claiming the Fortress and the Palace, both obvious positions of strength. A black film seeped from the table itself, covering the Palace and a new piece entered the board, fleeing the palace.
He lost track of what was happening then as the game continued, pieces shifting location with every blink of the eye. Who was playing this game? All motion stopped and a single figurine swept across the board, changing the dynamic and sending a wave of color and light that wiped away the black ooze now covering much of the board. Reaching out he picked up the figure and lifted it from the table. It writhed in his hand as he pulled it in front of his eyes to look at it more closely.
A shock of recognition shot through him and he dropped the figurine. It was him.
Sebastian bolted up out of the dream. Blinking twice he looked around the chamber and scrambled over to lap from his bucket of water, the memory of the dream and the squirming figuring of himself lingered foremost in his thoughts.
A deep voice rumbled from the dark, "What is it, Sebastian?"
He rubbed the long growth on his chin, wondering how much to reveal. "I had another dream."
Across the chamber a reptilian eye popped open, "What of your defenses?"
"I tried. The pull was too strong this time. I went into the tower and saw...something." Sebastian recounted the dream to his scaly companion, or as much of it as he could remember.
"This is a warning for you. Events may have outpaced us. What will you do?"
Sebastian stood, walking over to the dragon. "We need to prepare. They'll be coming for me."
PART ONE
Chapter Two
Krystelle Mora glared at Naevean Palace sitting on the high bluff overlooking Cynneweald's capital city. Its white stone walls shone in the morning sun and she spied the green banners flying above the gates, with their embroidered silver fleur de lis sigils. She had spent the better part of the last month living at the palace and took every opportunity to visit the city below to remind herself that there was life and vitality beyond the finery of Court.
Riding along on a dun-colored horse, her long auburn hair tied in an intricate triple braid, constrained by a lacy silver circlet, she surveyed the city streets. Riding side-saddle due to the violet dress her lady-in-waiting had set out for her that morning, she chafed at the very idea of a lady-in-waiting, much less one assigned to make sure she "fit in at court." She was a Sword-master of Gabirel, a rank she had worked very hard to achieve. Now she could not even choose her own clothing.
The captain of her guard raised a gauntlet for her party to stop. Down the road a washer-woman pounded on a door, no doubt cheated of a hire or similar complaint. Captain Alboin saw it as his duty to keep Krystelle safe from such altercations and redirected their party along a side street. She was more than capable of handling herself!
She had learned not to argue with the captain. It had been all she could do to convince the queen to allow these trips into the city and the queen had agreed to indulge her on the condition that Alboin and the other guardsmen provide an escort. Their first trip out she had insisted they travel to one of the seedier parts of the city near the riverfront and the guardsmen had faced a handful of street toughs that thought they saw easy pickings.
Alboin had, of course, reported the incident to the queen and Krystelle found her guard doubled along with a much tighter rein on where they went. That skirmish had earned Alboin her grudging respect. He was no Sword-master, but he kept his head and knew how to handle a sword.
These trips got her out of the palace and she would put up with a lot to make sure that privilege remained. She did not think she could bear remaining confined in the palace every day. Besides dealing with the hangers-on who vied for her attention hoping to curry favor with the queen she was frustrated with the newly appointed mili
tary advisor, Thaddeus Linford. It had taken Krystelle one session with Linford to conclude that he was well out of his depth in dealing with the chaos raging through the kingdom since the battle at Cinaeth seven months prior.
Continuing down the cobblestone paved lane, Krystelle let her mind wander. Her excuse for these excursions had been a wish to experience the capital and its people, and she had paid close enough attention on their first few trips to talk intelligibly about the state of the city and the state of mind of its population, allowing her the relative freedom to enjoy the day.
Reaching the next crossroads, she followed along until Alboin turned the party back toward the city center. "My Lady," said Alboin. "It is time to return to the palace for the morning council."
Looking at the sun, she saw he was right. Sighing, she nodded. "Lead on Captain." At least the queen still included her in the councils. It would not do to arrive late, or at least later than usual.
Winding back through the city, it did not take them long to reach the palace gates. Only a quartet of guards flanked the open gates, clad in their ceremonial armor. Their appearance was designed to give the impression that the Palace was open to the common people. While that might have been true once, given the current state, Krystelle was certain a full contingent of guards would be staged nearby out of sight and the gatekeeper would be ready to drop the portcullis at a moment's notice.
Krystelle and her party were known, and the guards offered no challenge as they rode through the gates and into the courtyard without pausing. She wondered how they would react if they realized a magic-user could disguise their appearance and if they would allow even her to pass through without being challenged if they knew.
A marble fountain stood in the center of the courtyard. Not so long ago, the happy sound of water rushing through the four stone dolphins would have greeted a visitor to the palace. Now the fountain stood empty and drained, the once verdant green lawns surrounding it turned to brown.
They followed the circular crush-stone pathway around to the stairs leading up to the oak palace doors where a footman waited to help Krystelle from the saddle. "Thank you Captain Alboin," she said.
Taking hold of her reigns he looked back before leading the horse away. "Of course, my Lady. Same time tomorrow?"
Krystelle nodded and turned back to climb the stairs and greet Lorcán, who waited for her outside the doors. An able administrator, he was the Chamberlain's right hand. Balding up top, Lorcán had served in the palace his entire life. His gray robes of office always appeared too large for his slender build. She liked the man, but was not sure why he had been sent to accompany her. "Hello Lorcán. It is good to see you this morning although I certainly do not need an escort to find the council chamber?" She pitched her voice at the end to make it a question.
"Indeed. Her Majesty wishes to begin as soon as possible. I believe she wanted me merely to convey her sense of urgency."
"Very well then. We had best not keep her waiting."
"Best not," Lorcán said, turning to lead the way into the main anteroom of the palace and then down the wide marble-paved corridor leading to the main council chamber. As they walked, Krystelle wondered what made the queen so impatient to begin the council on this day. Perhaps a message had come in the night?
At the end of the corridor the double doors stood open wide, indicating that the council was not yet in session. Lorcán stopped at the threshold, gesturing for Krystelle to make her way inside. As she passed through, the two guards pulled the doors shut, no doubt positioning themselves on the outside. Apparently this was a closed session. Taking a deep breath, Krystelle walked across the chamber to the round table and took her place to the Queen’s right hand.
Tanjia Loredanna sat opposite Krystelle at the queen's left. With her long blond curls and sharply pointed nose, she was the image of a royal princess. Before the confrontation with Sterling Lex and King Ercanbald's untimely death, Tanjia had been the king's fiance. It was only the difference of a few months that kept her from throne. Krystelle had argued long against her inclusion in the council, but politics won out over prudence.
Camryn herself, Queen of Cynneweald, was a tall, raven-haired woman with streaks of gray at both temples. Accounted a great beauty in her youth, most would now call her handsome, with her high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. "Now that we are assembled, we can begin. Linford?"
Thaddeus Linford cleared his throat, a habit that grated on Krystelle, looking around at the assembly. "We have received word in the night that a small fleet of ships from Cale Druennen has made landfall south of Donall. Some hundred men are rumored to be making their way inland, raiding the farms throughout that area." The man sported a full beard and Krystelle always thought he looked like the hair had crawled down from the crown of his head in shame, coming to rest there on his chin.
"And what have we done in response?" demanded Krystelle.
Linford looked over, "What would you have us do in the night? My dear, this is but a single report. We've no confirmation, and even if we did I thought it prudent to consult with the Queen before committing our scarce resources on the merest rumor. Besides, even if the rumors are true that farmland is of no strategic value to the crown. Should the report prove true, we have time to put forth a measured response."
"No strategic value?" Krystelle half rose from her chair. "And what of the people suffering under those raiders? Do they have no value?"
"Now Krystelle," that was Weland Solomon, the queen's chief domestic advisor. "Of course the people have value, but surely the Queen's Guard will put down this little incursion in due time."
"And what if this is just the first wave?" asked Krystelle. "Or if our lack of response emboldens the pirates? A strong military response is the best way to show Cale Druennen that Cynneweald is strong."
"What would you suggest then?" asked Linford.
"Raise the garrison at Aldmoor and dispatch reinforcements to Cale Donnall. We can scarce afford to lose the docks there, and if I the were the pirates looking for a stronger foothold that is where I would start. That and send a message to the Dazhberg. The High Council of Gabirel will..."
"Gabirel?" Tanjia interrupted her. "You would bring them into this. Look to your loyalties!"
"My loyalties?" Krystelle gaped at the woman.
"Enough!" Queen Camryn broke her silence. "We will not be bringing the Order of Gabirel into this matter. General Linford, a response is needed. Dispatch what forces you see fit. I trust you to evict these pirates from our borders with haste. Consider what Krystelle Mora has advised, but it is your decision. If there is no other urgent business, this council is adjourned."
Bowing, Linford made a beeline for the door to formulate a response and the remaining members of the council moved to follow at a more leisurely pace. Krystelle sat for a moment, collecting herself and letting Tanjia go ahead of her. She did not want to find herself in another conversation with the woman. Rising as soon as Tanjia disappeared through the door, Krystelle inclined her head to the queen and made her own way out of the room.
She felt the queen's eyes boring into her back as she walked. "Krystelle." She flinched at the bite in the queen's voice. "Attend me in my chambers after the dinner hour."
Turning back, she curtsied, "Yes, my queen."
Chapter Three
Krystelle paced outside the queen's chambers. A rare invitation to a private audience had her on edge and she was not sure what to make of it. She had spent a good deal of time with the queen on their journey to the palace prior to the coronation, and only slightly less so after. Those days were past now once Queen Camryn settled into her position and authority.
What did this invitation mean? She wondered, waiting for the appointed time. Too much to hope she would be sent back to the Dazhberg to resume her station as a Sword-master. After everything, the queen had little use for the Gabirelean Order. To those on the outside looking in that would be a surprise. The argument could be made Camryn was only on the throne
because of Gabirel.
Understanding the history as intimately as Krystelle did, the fact of the queen's animosity toward Gabirel held no surprise. Camryn did not trust Gabirel and Krystelle doubted that the queen's opinion could be changed. None of that explained this unexpected summons. As she waited, Krystelle mentally prepared herself for the conversation as if going into battle. In a way, she was.
From far off, she heard palace bells chiming the change of the hour. It was time. Waiting until the last bell rang, she knocked thrice on the door to the queen's chamber. "Enter," came the queen's voice from inside the room.
Pushing open the door, Krystelle took in a deep breath and walked into the room. Whereas King Ercanbald had been a private man, allowing no one into his chambers, Queen Camryn used this ante-chamber as an informal reception hall to meet with her closest advisers. A quartet of armchairs next to the fireplace surrounded an ornate green chest that served as a table. A portrait of two cherubim adorned the side of the chest and the sight brought Krystelle fond memories from when she was a small girl.
Those memories turned sour when she realized who was seated in one armchair next to the queen, sipping on a cup of tea. She had not expected Tanjia to be a part of this audience.
"Ah, Krystelle," said the queen. "Come in and pour yourself a cup of tea my dear. We were just discussing the distressing news concerning the pirate incursion along the coast."
Krystelle stalked over to a tea cart positioned to one side. She poured herself a cup, refusing to add either sugar nor cream. It was petty of her, and she recognized it but Tanjia took her tea sickly sweet to Krystelle's taste and she wanted nothing to remind her of the woman.
Cup and saucer in hand, she settled into the third armchair. "And what conclusions have you drawn?"
The queen took a sip of her own tea, "Only that Thaddeus Linford needs to be prompted into action from time to time."
"I believe that was the point I was making."
"It was not your point I had issue with, but rather the manner in which you made it. For all his faults, Linford has the guard commanders' trust and loyalty. Those two things have been in short supply. I need him guided, not goaded."
Heartstone (Eligium Series Book 5) Page 1