Falling Kingdoms Read online

  “It’s only been a day or two.”

  “An eternity.” She placed her hands against his abdomen and slid them slowly up over his shoulders.

  He let her. He craved someone’s touch today to help quell the ache in his chest. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that she was someone else. She shivered as he pressed her up against the stone wall and brought his mouth down to hers in a deep kiss. He threaded his fingers through her soft brown hair and imagined it flowed down to her waist and was the color of richest ebony. That her eyes were the color of the sky in summer, not a pale and wintry gray.

  “Have you learned anything?” he asked, finally pushing away the fantasy. Amia smelled of the fish she’d been helping to prepare for dinner rather than of roses and jasmine. He could only fool himself so much.

  “About your sister?”

  His throat tightened. “Yes.”

  “Not yet.” She gazed up at him as if entranced. “However, there’s something else interesting happening as we speak. The king and Tobias are in a secret meeting with visitors.”

  Tobias, he thought with distaste. Always lurking about. “What visitors?”

  “Chief Basilius arrived with an entourage an hour ago.”

  He stared at her, momentarily rendered speechless. “You can’t be serious.”

  She grinned. “I was looking for you to let you know. If the Paelsian chieftain, one who never makes public appearances, has traveled to Limeros to speak with the king, something very interesting must be happening, don’t you think?”

  “Indeed.”

  Chief Basilius was rumored to be a powerful sorcerer feared and respected by his people. He stayed apart from other Paelsians in a private compound, devoting his days to meditation and, supposedly, magic.

  Magnus didn’t believe in such ridiculous notions. However, his father did, to an extent. King Gaius believed in the power of elementia. Magic that had been gone from the world since the days of the goddesses.

  “Did you hear anything else?” he asked. “Do you know why the chief is here?”

  “I tried to listen for as long as I could, but I was afraid I’d get caught.”

  “Amia, you don’t want to ever be caught. My father would not take well to eavesdroppers.”

  “Even if I was eavesdropping on behalf of his son?”

  “I wouldn’t hesitate to say you were lying.” He took her arm in his and squeezed it until she flinched. A flicker of fear went through her pale eyes. “Who do you think the king would believe? His son and heir? Or a kitchen maid?”

  Amia swallowed hard. “I apologize, my prince. I would never say such a thing.”

  “Smart girl.”

  She took a moment to compose herself, shaking off the momentary unpleasantness between them. “As far as what I heard, it seems as if it’s related to the murder in the Paelsian village last month and the meeting King Gaius called last week.”

  He eased his grip on the girl. “I think I’ll join them. I have a right to be a part of such a political meeting as much as Tobias does.”

  “I agree completely.”

  The girl was nothing if not agreeable. He looked down at her. “Thank you for this information, Amia. I do appreciate it.”

  Her face lit up. “Will you need anything else from me?”

  He considered this for a moment before stepping back from her. “Yes. Visit me in my chambers after I retire tonight.”

  Her cheeks reddened and she smiled demurely. “Of course, my prince.”

  Magnus left the chapel and headed toward his father’s private meeting hall, which was situated on the main floor next to the great hall. He didn’t bother to attempt to overhear anything; he simply walked straight in. There were a dozen men in the room and their gazes all shot to him immediately.

  “Oh, I’m very sorry,” he said. “Am I interrupting something?”

  While he enjoyed acting the part of a shadow much of his time, there were other occasions that called for a more illuminated approach. Tobias’s ongoing presence at the castle had raised his hackles more than he’d even realized before today. He felt the sudden and driving need to assert his position as prince and the rightful heir to his father’s throne.

  “This,” King Gaius said from his seat upon the dais, always a step above everyone else, “is my son, Prince Magnus Lukas Damora.”

  Instead of an expression of outrage at the interruption, there was a small bemused smile on the king’s lips at Magnus’s unannounced entrance. Tobias simply glared at him, as if enraged on behalf of the king by Magnus’s extreme rudeness.

  “It’s a great honor to meet the prince,” a man’s deep voice sounded out, and Magnus moved his gaze to his left. “I am Chief Hugo Basilius of Paelsia.”

  “The honor is ours, Chief Basilius,” Magnus said evenly. “Welcome to Limeros.”

  “Join us, my son,” the king said.

  Magnus restrained himself from making a cutting remark about missing the invitation earlier and sat down across the table from the chief and four of his men.

  The chief was a grander-looking man than Magnus would have expected, given the peasant status of his people. In Paelsia, there was no upper or middle class, only varying degrees of lower, especially in recent generations as their land had begun to fade away.

  Even seated, it was obvious that Basilius was no peasant. He was tall, his shoulders broad. His long, dark hair was streaked with gray. His tanned face was lined, and there was a keen sharpness in his dark eyes. His clothes were finely made, stitched from soft leathers and silver fox fur. He looked more like a king than Magnus expected. He would have to guess that Basilius did not suffer the same lifestyle in his compound as the commoners of Paelsia.

  “Shall we fill your son in on what we’ve discussed so far?” Basilius asked.

  “Of course.” King Gaius’s attention hadn’t left his son since he’d entered the room. Even without looking, Magnus felt his father’s gaze like a burning sensation along the length of his scar. A cool line of perspiration slid down his spine, even though he tried his best to look completely at ease.

  King Gaius had a quick temper, and Magnus knew firsthand what it was like to be punished if he pushed too far. After all, he had the scar to prove it.

  A scar he remembered far too well how he’d acquired.

  Ten years ago, the king had taken Magnus with him and Queen Althea on the royal visit to Auranos. It hadn’t been very long at all in the opulent and richly decorated palace, a sharp contrast to the utilitarian and sparse Limeros castle, before Magnus had given in to his childhood curiosity. He’d wandered off during a banquet to explore the castle alone. He’d come across a display case of jeweled daggers and felt the overwhelming urge to steal a golden one encrusted with sapphires and emeralds. In Limeros, weapons were not as beautiful and ornate as this. They were practical and useful, forged from steel or iron. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his seven years of life.

  His father caught him as he drew the dagger from its case. The king had been so enraged that his son would steal, potentially damaging his family name in the process, that he’d lashed out. Magnus’s punishment came via the blade itself.

  His father ripped it out of his son’s hands and slashed its sharp edge across Magnus’s face.

  Immediately, he’d regretted his violent turn. But instead of helping Magnus and bandaging the wound immediately, he’d knelt down before his son and spoken in a low, dangerous tone while blood dripped from the little boy’s cheek and onto the shiny marble floor of the Auranian palace. He’d coldly threatened Magnus’s life, his mother’s life, and his little sister’s life. Magnus was not to ever tell anyone how he’d received this injury.

  To this day, he never had. He was reminded of this threat and his father’s mindless rage every time he looke
d in the mirror.

  But he was not a seven-year-old boy anymore. He was seventeen, almost eighteen. Just as tall as his father was. And just as strong. He didn’t want to be afraid any longer.

  “I sent word to Chief Basilius,” the king said, “that I wanted to meet with him personally about the problems in his land, punctuated by the murder of Tomas Agallon at the hands of an Auranian lord. He agreed to come here and discuss a possible alliance.”

  “An alliance?” Magnus repeated with surprise.

  “A joining of two lands for one purpose,” Tobias spoke up.

  Magnus sent a withering look at the king’s bastard. “I know what an alliance is.”

  “I believe it may be the omen I’ve been waiting for,” Chief Basilius said. “Long have I searched for a solution to aid my dying land.”

  “And what solution will aligning with Limeros bring forth?” Magnus asked.

  His father and the chief shared a look of understanding, and then King Gaius met his son’s gaze. “I have proposed that we combine our strengths and take Auranos from a greedy and selfish king who would let his people believe they can do whatever they please to whomever they please without a single thought to consequence.”

  “Take Auranos,” Magnus said, not quite believing his own ears. “You mean to conquer it. Together.”

  The king’s smile stretched. “What do you make of that, my son?”

  That was a loaded question. It was clear to Magnus that this discussion had been going on for some time before he arrived. No one seemed the least bit shocked by the suggestion of war after generations of peace.

  And now that Magnus had a chance to catch his breath, he wasn’t all that surprised either. His father had publicly hated Corvin Bellos for a decade, and Limerian disapproval toward a kingdom devoted to hedonism and frivolous excess had been a hotly debated issue over royal council meetings and banquets for twice that time. No, reflecting rapidly, Magnus was surprised only that it had taken this long for his father to want action.

  Chief Basilius’s land sat directly between Limeros and Auranos. It was a stretch of a hundred and fifty miles that any army would have to cross to reach the Auranian border. A newly forged, friendly alliance would certainly make that a much smoother journey.

  “I can tell you what I think of it,” Tobias said. “I think it’s a brilliant plan, your grace.”

  Magnus eyed the king’s valet with distaste. Dark hair, brown eyes, same height and build as himself. Tobias’s features were slightly softer than Magnus’s. Otherwise, there was little doubt that they shared a father. It was disturbing, really, how much Tobias looked as if he could legitimately be Magnus’s older brother. If the king ever admitted the boy’s parentage and claimed him as a true son, it would put Tobias before Magnus in line for the throne. There was no Limerian law that stated that pure royal blood was necessary for the position. Even the son of a whore could become king.

  “I think whatever my opinion is on the subject, my father will do as he pleases,” Magnus finally said. “As he has always done.”

  The chief laughed out loud at this. “I think your son knows you too well.”

  “Quite,” King Gaius said with amusement. “So, Chief Basilius, what say you? Do you agree to my plan? Auranos has grown lazy and fat over many years of peace and won’t be able to withstand an unexpected attack. They will fall, and together we will pick up the pieces left behind.”

  “And these pieces we’ll pick up,” Basilius mused. “Are we to then share them evenly?”

  “We are.”

  The chief leaned back in his seat and surveyed all those in the meeting room slowly. The four men standing at his back had curved daggers at their belts and were dressed from head to toe in leathers. They looked ready to head into battle today if given such an order.

  “Are you aware of the rumors about me?” the chief asked. It took a moment for Magnus to realize he was speaking to him directly.

  “Rumors?” Magnus repeated.

  “Why I am the chosen one to lead my people.”

  “I have heard stories that you are the latest in a line of sorcerers once touched with elementia. That your ancestors were among the Watchers themselves, those who were guardians to the Kindred.”

  “You’ve heard correctly. This is why I am the chieftain of my people and why they trust me beyond all others. We do not have a god or goddess to worship such as you do. My people have me. When they pray, they pray to me.”

  “And do you hear these prayers?”

  “In spirit, I hear all of them. But when they want something badly enough, they will offer a blood sacrifice to show honor to me.”

  Blood sacrifice? How deeply savage. No wonder they were a dying people, reliant on a handful of vineyards to keep their economy from stagnating completely.

  “How interesting,” Magnus said instead.

  “The greatest sacrifice must be something that one truly values. To sacrifice something of no value is meaningless.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Is that what you’re asking of me right now?” King Gaius asked. “A blood sacrifice to show honor to you?”

  Basilius spread his hands and turned toward the king. “As there are legends about me, there are also many stories about you. It is difficult to separate truth from fiction.”

  “What have you heard?”

  “That you are a king who accepts no less than perfection from all of those who surround you. That you tax your people until they can barely feed themselves. Your army polices the villages of Limeros, and anyone who strays outside of the rules you’ve set forth will pay dearly for their error, often with their lives. That you will torture and execute anyone accused of witchcraft found in your land. That you have ruled your kingdom with violence and intimidation and that your people fear you even as they bow at your feet. That they call you the King of Blood.”

  If Magnus had been required to speak after that little speech, he was certain that nothing would have emerged from his mouth. These were the rumors about King Gaius?

  How incredibly…accurate.

  He watched his father closely for his reaction, fully expecting him to lash out with threats and anger, throwing the chief and his entourage out of his kingdom immediately.

  Instead, King Gaius began to laugh. It was a dark sound edged in danger and it made a chill run up Magnus’s back as it echoed through the cavernous hall.

  “Such stories,” he said. “Magnified for entertainment value, of course. Are you offended by such possibilities?”

  “Quite the opposite,” Chief Basilius replied. “A man like that is one who would not sit back and let others fight his battles. He would fight them himself. He would kill and take what he needed, when he needed it. Are you that man?”

  King Gaius leaned forward, all amusement fading from his face. “I am that king.”

  “You want Auranos, but I can’t believe it is merely due to outrage over a murder committed in my land. Tell me why you’re so driven to align with Paelsia to take it.”

  King Gaius didn’t speak for a moment, as if assessing the man before him. “I want to watch the ruler of that land suffer as he sees his kingdom slip away from him and into the hands of someone he hates. This is my opportunity to have that.”

  Chief Basilius seemed satisfied by the answer. “Good. Then there is only the matter of you proving yourself to me in a way more tangible than words. Do this and I pledge to give this matter deep thought and have my final answer to you soon.”

  “Prove myself through blood sacrifice.”

  The chief nodded. “I want you to sacrifice something you care about very much, something over which you will mourn the loss.”

  The king’s gaze flicked to Magnus. Magnus’s grip tightened on the edge of the table. His palms were damp.

  His fath
er couldn’t possibly agree to something so savage, not at the mere whim of this Paelsian peasant king.

  “Tobias,” King Gaius said. “Give me your dagger.”

  “Certainly.” Tobias slipped his plain, steel-bladed dagger from the sheath at his hip and handed it to the king hilt first. “If you need a suggestion, your majesty, there are several thieves in the dungeon currently awaiting trial.”

  “Would that be acceptable to you, Chief Basilius?” The king rose from his throne on the dais. “Thievery is not a crime with a death sentence here. At the most, they would have had their hands severed. The unnecessary loss of any Limerian subject’s life would also be a loss to my kingdom, to my economy—and therefore to me.”

  Basilius also rose. Magnus stayed right where he was, watching all of this with a mix of interest and distaste.

  “I am underwhelmed by this choice,” the chief said. “There are those among my people who would sacrifice their own children for me.”

  “And you’re fine with such a crime?” the king asked, his expression tense. “Family, to me, is the one thing I value more than anything else in the world. And children are our legacy, more precious than gold.”

  “We’re finished here. I’ll think through what you’ve proposed to me today.” The chief moved toward the door. His tone no longer held the same enthusiasm at the prospect of an alliance as it had earlier.

  “Tobias,” the king said evenly.

  “Yes, your majesty?”

  “I do regret the necessity of this.”

  The king swiftly moved behind the boy, pulled his head back, and slashed the blade across his throat.

  Tobias’s eyes went wide and his hands came up automatically to his neck. Blood squirted out from between his fingers. He collapsed to the ground.

  King Gaius looked grimly down at him as the boy’s body went still.

  Magnus fought with every ounce of his strength not to allow the storm of emotions inside him to show on his face. He commanded himself to wear only the mask of impassivity he’d worked hard to build over the years.