Broken empire, p.1
Broken Empire, page 1
Broken Empire
Ringdweller Series Book 3
Brady Hunsaker
Lightfire Publishing
Published by Lightfire Publishing LLC
Copyright © [2023] by Lightfire Publishing LLC
Cover art illustration by Miblart
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Contents
Dedication
BW Image
Fullpage Image
1. Traitor
2. Nightmare
3. Swords
4. Redemption
5. Ashjagar
6. The Plan
7. Escape
8. Secrets
9. Terror
10. Regent
11. Potion
12. Council
13. Ball
14. Broken
15. Malahem
16. Loyalists
17. Thaw
18. Emperor
19. Stars
20. Courting
21. Orbs
22. Wanay
23. Revelation
24. Intoxicated
25. Yours
26. Alliance
27. Marriage
28. Politics
29. Defense
30. Army
31. Hunters
32. Portal
33. Invasion
34. Jehubal
35. Decoy
36. Fake
37. Adrina
38. Forgotten
39. Defeat
40. To The End
41. Storm
42. Liberation
43. Perfect
Glossary of Terms
About the Author
Afterword
Pronunciation Guide
To my wife, Julia who has been my strength, my support, my partner, my inspiration, my everything.
Every day of my life has been better because I get to breathe the same air as her.
Chapter one
Traitor
A dense fog provided Shanon with enough cover to kill four of those sleazy guards undetected. So far. It was only a matter of time before somebody realized their comrades were missing. Her task would be done before they’d find out. It would send the right message though. Some people in Jehubal still valued loyalty over wealth.
The pain of waiting for the perfect conditions had been almost unbearable. After seeing what they’d done to her brother, Kyel, her emotions had been a roiling turmoil. There was rage and bitterness of course, but nothing compared to the deepness of her sorrow or the loneliness that wracked her thoughts whenever she stopped plotting long enough to think of anything else.
It had been two weeks since they killed her brother. Two weeks since they captured Hatan and overthrew the city. In only a few marks, the nobility would be holding a council to decide who would be the new king or queen of Jehubal. Ridiculous.
Migo Rikaydian was still the rightful king. Not only by blood, but he was the people’s king. He stood up for them. Defended them. Even when the queen would not. That alone made him worthy enough. And Shanon would let the nobles know that they ruled only because people like Shanon let them.
She descended the stairs of the wall around Kesten Manor. Chatter echoed off the stone manor ahead, though she still couldn't see the building. A cart of food had just arrived, as it always did around the second mark. She jogged up until the side of the manor came into view, its walls made of thick, tan blocks. She skirted the edge of the building. The guard who manned this servants’ entrance would be deep in conversation with the assistant who’d just arrived with the food. Under cover of the fog, Shanon slipped past them directly through the open door of the manor.
Once inside, she took an immediate turn right up a flight of stairs. She was already dressed in the livery of one of Kesten’s servants. It was surprisingly easy to steal especially when everyone washed their laundry in all the same places within the city. Another servant woman came down the stairs, passing Shanon as she ascended. She kept a knife at the ready, but she intended to take as few of the servants’ lives as possible. But the soldiers? She’d kill every last one of them she could.
The other servant simply hurried down the stairs, giving Shanon only the briefest of glances. This would be easy. Vitori was too proud. He must’ve thought that he’d appeased everyone enough to avoid danger. He knew nothing of what a real enemy was capable of. One that wasn’t afraid of consequences. That’s what made her truly dangerous.
She reached the top of the stairs and opened the narrow door, finding herself at the end of a long, wide hall. It practically gushed with money. Pedestals were mounted with sculptures between each door. Massive windows on either end of the hall were decorated with stained glass, but Shanon skipped over the fine details, focusing instead on what mattered.
Vitori’s room was still one more floor up. At this time, he would normally be in there, asleep. She could only hope it would be so simple as to walk in and slit his throat while he slumbered. She’d stare him in the eyes as he bled to death. Her fists clenched as blood pounded through her veins.
Halfway across the hall was another, wider stairway that led to the top floor. This was the stairway used by the Kesten family. A servant was coming down the other side of the hall, but this was Kelhada, the manager of the estate, and one of the last people she wanted to meet while infiltrating the home.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Kelhada said, her voice stern.
Shanon sank into her role, wringing her hands as she approached Kelhada. She glanced behind her to make sure the two of them were alone in the hall. “One of the other girls left a floor scrub near the tower, and I was being sent to retrieve it.”
“We haven’t had to scrub the floors for a few cycles,” Kelhada said, eyes narrowing. “Who sent you? In fact, who are you? I manage all the staff, and I haven’t seen—”
Shanon swiped a knife out from under the sleeve of her robes and jabbed it into the side of Kelhada’s neck, cutting her barely-uttered scream to a sudden halt. She clamped a hand over Kelhada’s mouth and dragged the dying woman into the nearest room, which she could only hope was empty.
It was not. A young man lay sleeping in his luxurious bed. He looked vaguely familiar, like one of the distant relatives that kissed up the dust from Vitori’s boots. He wasn’t roused by Shanon dragging a woman into the room. She laid Kelhada on the floor, keeping a hand over her mouth until she died.
She hurried out of the room, leaving her dirty work behind. Just another casualty. She bounded up the stairs two at a time. The hall above was empty. For all his scheming, Vitori truly wasn’t ready to lead an uprising. She only wished she’d come to kill him sooner. Her knife was clutched in one hand as she grabbed the elaborate, curved handle of his bedroom door and pushed it open.
The room beyond was mostly dark, save for a curtain pulled back from a balcony door made of thick glass. Shadows enveloped the room, dark purple drapes hanging from the tall ceiling. She slipped inside and closed the door, eyes scanning for any sign of life. The bed was small for a lord, but still clothed in an elaborately detailed blanket, but it was otherwise vacant. She drew her other knife and stepped further into the room. There wasn’t really anywhere to hide unless he’d crawled under the bed, but she suspected the drape over the balcony door was pulled back for a reason.
Just to be sure, she went to the bed and pulled up the skirt with her knife to look beneath it. Nothing. She looked around the room one last time before navigating her way around a padded reading chair toward the balcony door. The glass was translucent, so the image beyond was unclear, but it did look as though somebody stood outside.
Time to end it.
She threw open the door and stepped out into the light. Vitori Kesten stood leaning with his back against the metal railing of the balcony that faced the northern end of Jehubal. He watched her without expression.
This would be too easy. One leap forward and her knives would tear into his organs.
“They’ll kill Hatan if you kill me.”
“Clever defense,” Shanon said. “I doubt you had the intellect to secure such a ploy.”
“I had enough intellect to capture Hatan, didn’t I?” Vitori smirked, making it even harder for Shanon not to stab him right in the face. “And regardless, I don’t think you care to gamble with the regent’s life. That wouldn’t be very loyal of you.”
“You killed my brother,” she said, practically trembling with rage.
“So? My men have killed many people. Murder and execution are basic requirements of leadership in Jehubal. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.”
“You’re no leader.”
“No, but I’m paving the way for it. Someone needs to maintain the law. We can’t all be rebels here. There’d be no sense of security if we did that. A city thrives on stability.”
Shanon stomped up to him and pressed a knife against his gut. He didn’t even flinch. “I should kill you now. What would become of your plot, then?
Vitori raised an eyebrow. “The council will still happen even if I’m dead. But remember, kill me, and Hatan dies.”
She held her other knife up to his neck, sharp enough to draw blood. He still didn’t flinch. That’s how confident he was in what he’d claimed. Sands. He probably wasn’t lying, and he was right. She wasn’t willing to risk Hatan’s life.
“Anything you do to me, I’ll see that he gets it twice over,” Vitori said. “The best option for you is to walk away from here. Find a new home. House Rikaydian has fallen. They’ve been lost for years.”
Shanon cursed and withdrew her knives.
“That’s a good girl.”
Shanon punched Vitori right in the nose. His head jerked back, and he gasped, holding a hand up to his face as blood spurted out onto his expensive shirt.
“Fool,” he growled. “I’ll break him for this. Guards!”
“I wager he’ll think it’s worth it,” Shanon said, shoving the pitiful lord to the side as she jumped over the balcony, sliding down the roof below and disappearing into the fog.
Vitori would pay. They all would. But first, she needed a way to secure Hatan’s safety.
Chapter two
Nightmare
The sound of Migo's monstrous voice filled him with more dread than the pain of his skin threatening to tear from his body. He screamed once again, terrified at the roar that boomed throughout the cave.
“Migo,” Nagesh said, his voice weak but urgent. “Only you have the power to control it.”
Control what? What had they done to him?
“Focus, Migo. Who are you? What are you fighting for?”
How could he focus? The pain that wracked Migo’s body was worse than anything he’d ever experienced. His skin was tearing in a million places. Every bone was snapping. Who was he? He was pain. His whole life was pain. Hated. Discarded. Scorned.
But no. There was hope. He was not worthless. Katsi had taught him that.
He was a king. He fought for his people. Not for revenge. Not for hatred. Hatan had taught him that.
But the pain. None of these thoughts could stop the pain. His breath came in heavy gasps.
Katsi. She would die if he was not there to save her. He brought his arms in, hugged his chest, and tried to control his breathing. Nagesh was right. Whatever was happening, he had to control it. Despite the sickening pain that threatened to knock him out, he opened his eyes, lifting his head off the ground, still clutching his arms against his body. Black liquid had poured from his mouth. The front of his uniform was blackened as well, as though burned from the touch of the potion. He clenched his jaw, rising to his feet on trembling legs, eyes focused on Nagesh.
“Explain,” Migo said through clenched teeth. “What did you do to me?”
“Remarkable,” Hadiv said, her eyes tracing across Migo’s body as though he were some grotesque specimen. “Ashjagar. You may have been right, Nagesh.”
Nagesh stood there, panting with widened eyes and open jaw.
“Nagesh,” Migo said again, his voice hoarse, raw from the screaming. His body still shook from the pain. How had his skin not torn away? Looking at his hands almost filled him with panic. His flesh roiled beneath the surface. “What is this?”
“You are Ashjagar,” Nagesh finally said with a gasp. “To many shamans, it means deliverance. It’s a complex blood-binding enchantment. You have been fused with the essence of a drakotah and some other plants and animals. It’s similar to the process of creating a waheshi, but your mind is still intact, and it is a spell that is significantly more… powerful. It hasn’t been attempted for hundreds of years, though many shamans of ages past attempted it on themselves and on other subjects. All of them died.”
“And yet, you tried it on me,” Migo said, sparing a glance back down at himself again. The front of his tunic had practically dissolved. His skin beneath was also roiling. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”
Nagesh looked at the other shamans, but none of them spoke. “Not yet. From what I understand, all other attempts at this spell resulted in almost instantaneous death. The fact that you are standing is nothing short of a miracle. Two factors make you unique. Being a shroud means your body and mind are resistant to magic in ways that would protect you while the metamorphosis takes place. Second, there is a great strength in you. As a bleeder, I can sense it just by being near you. It’s like a drum, vibrating the ground and air around you. I’ve never felt a stronger heart in all my life.”
“So I’m still changing,” Migo said. He clenched his teeth so tight they felt as though he might grind them to dust. “What’s a drakotah? When does this stop?”
“I don’t know how long it will take. It has never happened successfully,” Nagesh said, pausing to gasp for air. “Drakotah’s are ancient beings. Powerful. They were hunted. Butchered for their potent qualities. They were magnificent lizards that could fly on their own.”
“Sands,” Migo muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Scales. Is that what he was talking about? Katsi’s lizard pet was some rare magical creature, and he was now fused with it?
“Yes, as soon as I found its tooth in a cave, I knew it was a sign of our deliverance,” Nagesh said. “You’re the key, Migo. The emperor must—” Nagesh’s voice cut off as though he were choking.
“She knows,” Hadiv said, catching Nagesh as he fell to his knees. She laid him down on his back. “Alishara is killing him.”
Nagesh’s eyes turned red and he stopped moving completely.
He was dead.
“What happened?” Migo asked, eyes wide as he stared at Nagesh’s body. It happened so quickly.
“Nagesh broke his blood oath to Alishara,” Hadiv said. “She could sense when he used so much of his power. She knows she’s been betrayed, so she killed him. For a powerful shaman, killing somebody with their blood is a simple task.”
A warmth started blossoming in Migo’s chest. Some of the pain was subsiding. He gasped. Perhaps he wouldn’t die after all. “The pain is diminishing,” Migo said, looking down at his chest once again.
His hope was short-lived. For in that very moment, his body changed, exploding into something that belonged only in nightmares.
Chapter three
Swords
Katsi stood on the roof of the castle, facing the western expanse as she focused on her fingers. Energy passed through the air from one hand to the other, but she could only feel it, not see it. It was too weak. She wasn’t passing the energy easily enough. Subtleties like this were what annoyed her the most, but she continued to focus, remembering that focusing on the end result was more important than the small minutia.
Then it happened. Little sparks jolted between her hands, sometimes popping with flashes of white light. She smiled. “How's that for delicate?”
“Very good,” Adrina said from beside her, unable to contain her own rare smile. “You’ve got a unique talent.”
Katsi laughed. “I know, I read about it.” She hurried to add more before Adrina’s questioning eyebrow could raise itself. “I do read the assignments you give—and more. Not many stormcallers were able to exercise very precise control over lightning. I like being able to do things that not many others can do.”
Adrina nodded. Katsi could only imagine that she felt the same. “That’s all for now,” Adrina said. “That should give us a few marks to get ready for the celebration next cycle.”
“Excuse me,” Katsi said. “A few marks to get ready? How could we spend that much time just getting ready?”
Adrina gave her a flat stare. “Not all of that time will be spent getting ready, but I do intend to make you look like a lady. That involves more than just wearing a nice dress.”
Katsi wrinkled her nose. “I’m a little surprised you’re so invested in it. Isn’t all this lady and lord stuff some kind of Marem culture thing?”
“It wasn’t always that way,” Adrina said. “Many of the wealthiest people were shamans, and believe me, they liked to show their wealth just like any other rich person. Even still, not every shamanfolk on Malahem grew up in a cave in the Scorched Waste. There are probably more shamanfolk living normal lives amongst everyone else than you might realize.” She tilted her head when Katsi made a sour expression. “I don’t say that to be offensive, Katsi. Just for education.”
