Crown (The Manhunters Book 3) Read online

  “Keep your head down until we are in the throne room. Do not look around or they will blindfold you,” Thomas said. “Keep your hands away from that sword, and do not speak unless I ask you a question.”

  Roth had so many questions but knew he had no time to ask. The door slammed open before a great woman wearing barbed and blackened armor stormed into the room. Roth looked at her, seeing rage nearly unbridled, before Thomas touched the back of Roth’s head and shoved it down.

  “Eyes on the ground,” Thomas whispered.

  The room began to fill and empty at the same time as all other occupants rushed away and the guards with the warrior woman flooded in.

  “Queen Nardoc, how long it has been since you and your husband have visited us,” the warrior woman said. “You will find things have changed greatly since that time.” The woman’s words seemed to flex and bend with anger and power. Roth could not see the room around him, and he could only rest confident in the fact Quill could get them out of there if things got violent.

  “Quill of the Callden Collective,” the warrior said. “This is a surprise.”

  “You know of me?”

  “I know of most powerful women,” the warrior said. “I have a list of those I would not snap in half should I meet them. You happen to be on that list. But I warn you, your young friend here will not be tolerated if he makes himself known.”

  Roth had no idea what that meant, and from the sound of Quill’s voice, he doubted she did either.

  “Roth is a trusted friend of mine, and I helped raise him. If you strive to lay a foul finger on him, I will be forced to reduce you to dust and ash,” Quill said. “Whether he makes himself known or not.”

  The warrior woman let silence stretch out, then released a bawdy laugh. “Quill is as I was told she might be. Well, I find it fair. Come with me. Your men can ride on the horses we provide. You three will ride in the carriage with me.”

  It was a long ride through the streets of Kolin, and Roth studied it very carefully. What men he saw walked with their heads down. They kept their backs bent and even slumped to make themselves seem smaller than they were. Every guard was a woman. Every business they passed seemed owned by a woman. The entire city was run by women. Roth looked at the horses before him and realized this might be harder than he first thought.

  They rode for a long time before they came to the castle. It was large and comprised of great domes and towers. The whole of the castle had an orange and cream look, and the architecture was like none Roth had ever seen before. This castle was sprawling. Roth could not imagine how many rooms it possessed or how grand they were.

  The women were ushered through the main door. Thomas and Roth were seen around to the side of the castle, where they entered a humble door.

  They were taken through one set of doors after the next, stretching through servants’ quarters and even the kitchen. Roth could not imagine how furious Thomas must be at this horrible insult, but if the boy was vexed even a bit, he made no show of it. Finally, they were taken into a hallway lavishly decorated and to a small door set in the wall. They entered a tunnel and were stopped at another door.

  “I will need the sword,” a warrior woman said, reaching for Roth’s father’s sword. Roth looked at Thomas, who nodded. Roth let the woman take the weapon. When she had it in her hands, she let out a slight grunt and the weapon sagged in her grasp. Within a few seconds, she looked frightened as the sword tip lowered to touch the floor. Soon her hands were dropping as the magnificent weight of the weapon increased. The weight of the weapon continued to grow and soon she could not hold it any longer.

  “What witchcraft is this?!” the woman screamed, pulling her own sword.

  “It is the magic of the blade. No foul hand can hold it if they wish harm upon its commander,” Roth said. “For some reason I am not sure of, you wish to hit me with my own sword. You will find that impossible. With the strength of a thousand giant kin, you could not heft that sword even an inch off the ground.”

  “I will have that sword,” the woman snapped.

  “In fact you will not. No one living or dead can lift it from where it sits right now except me. I am willing to leave it here. Are you?”

  “I was to disarm you before letting you in.”

  “And so you have,” Roth said. “I do not possess my sword. I am no danger to anyone within that room. Let me in and I will prove it.”

  “It is my job to stand behind you and slide a blade into your skull the moment you present a threat to my queen,” the woman hissed.

  “And that is a fine job. But you will find it boring. I have no ill will toward your ruler, and nothing short of an attack could make me cause harm to anyone here,” Roth said.

  The woman snarled and opened the door. Roth followed Thomas into the room.

  The throne room of Leeth was huge, with a large dome painted with scenes of battle and bloodshed. The pillars were tall and fat and gilded. The floor was a rich tan marble, shot through with swirls of black. The room itself was filled with all manner of women, and Roth was shoved through a mix of them to the great thrones of Leeth.

  Standing prominent in the room was an elegant throne clutching a crone of a woman. Beside that throne were the remains of a grander seat. It had been at one time a mighty seat for a great ruler, now reduced to splinters of wood and stuffing of what once had been a cushion.

  Shalimarie, Quill, and the queen mother stood before the throne. Roth and Thomas joined them quietly.

  “A king and a boy wizard,” the elder queen snapped. “You come bringing men to my court.” The old woman spread her arms wide, like a spider preparing to strike, and smiled a sour grin that made her look like the very image of death. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “My name is Shalimarie Song. I am intended to wed the man you have done your best to insult. I am his love, and he, mine. We do not know much of your current politic, but we know you have not yet turned your war machine on our nation, so at least for now, you desire peace.”

  “That can change now depending on how we are treated,” Thomas’s mother said. “Our nations have long respected each other. I see no reason for that to change, but our king will be treated with grace, as will our allies.”

  “See, in the past, when royal visitors come to my court, they give proper notice so that I can prepare for them. They bring gifts and we recline and enjoy each other’s company. This is the way it has been done in the past,” the crone said. “Why now is this disrespect shown?”

  “I will let my intended answer that question,” Shalimarie said.

  “Men are not permitted to speak in my presence,” the queen snapped.

  “Thomas is not a man,” Shalimarie stated. “He is a nation.” At that, the entire room fell quiet. Thomas stepped up beside Shalimarie and nodded to the queen of Leeth.

  “It has been three years since your bloody revolution,” Thomas said.

  “Righteous revolution,” the queen rasped.

  “Indeed,” Thomas said. “If I had been forced to live under the conditions you were, I would have rebelled as well. But I have noticed that since you have ascended the throne, you have made no effort to reach out to me in friendship.”

  “And this tells you nothing,” the queen said.

  “It tells me my kingdom is but two days ride from a nation hostile toward me. That my one-time ally has darkened its heart for me. Am I wrong?” Thomas said. “Do you wish me as an enemy?”

  “I am not looking for enemies.” Her hands clamped together over and over again as if she was fighting to grasp something. “If I were, your nation is not where I would start.”

  “Did you order the death of my father?” Thomas asked calmly.

  Roth’s heart stopped in his chest as every woman warrior in the room pulled her weapon. Roth then noticed the room was filled with the royal guard.

  The queen stood with great effort and walked to the edge of the dais her throne sat upon. She glared down at Thomas, then shook
her head. “Phomax was a cruel idiot. He deserved a death many times over, but I did not give it to him.” She could not fully stand up straight and as she leaned, curled like a waiting whip, she smacked her toothless mouth. “Why would you ask me such a question?”

  “Well, his killer stands beside your throne,” Thomas said.

  Roth looked at the warrior woman beside the throne and his heart stopped. She wore a tight leather skirt so short that her legs were given free movement. Her shirt was a red leather vest. Her hair was shoulder length on the left and shaved bald on the right. She wore a pair of daggers, and Roth stared at them before recognizing them as the blades used by the Fury warriors of the mountains of Neather. She ripped from her back the biggest bow Roth had ever seen and reached for an arrow from a quiver on her hip holding the most massive arrows Roth had ever seen.

  Thomas pointed at her, looking at the queen. “Cage that thing or I will,” he said.

  The warrior hissed and pulled an arrow, but the old queen held her weathered hand out, stopping her.

  “I did not order your father’s death.”

  “Well, as his devoted son and heir, it falls upon me to avenge him. I have the right to demand her and execute her right before your eyes. If I am denied this right, it is also my right to fall upon your nation with the crippling weight of my army and the devastating might of my allies.”

  The crafty old queen stared at Thomas, her eyes calculating. She held her body in tight check, her wrinkled face showing no sign of any of the thoughts going on behind it.

  “Korlorn would beg to join my war,” Thomas continued. “Ebu would find it fair after the brutality of your ascension to power. I would unleash Medey and his Demons, The Rider and his cavalry, and I would call forward my most devastating weapon, Rayph Ivoryfist himself. It is my right to call for her head, or take it myself.”

  The Fury glared at Thomas with indignation and pride. She seemed spurred on to wrath by his words, incensed by his tone. The queen turned slowly and walked back to her throne. She carefully sat upon it and folded her aged hands.

  “You wish to go to war with me? The pride of your gender is so great you would seek to strike me down because I have no king?”

  “You’re a queen. In my nation, my mother has the right to rule in my stead. I am good to the women who live in my nation. My mother has handed over control of Lorinth to me, and that is the only reason I rule. I do not care about the gender of the one that rules your nation. I was taught that a powerful woman is a grand thing by my mentor. I am about to marry a powerful woman, and I was raised by one, so let’s not pretend for an instant it is pride in my sex that has me here right now.”

  “You want Lyndayathek, my personal guard. You want me to hand her over like a bit of property to be done away with?”

  “She is a member of the Stain, is she not?” Thomas said. “The same diabolical evil that has ravaged my nation for these past seven years. As a member, her life is forfeit.”

  “She disavowed that organization a year ago. She found me and has served me with loyalty ever since.”

  “Yet that bow killed my father,” Thomas said.

  The queen looked at her beloved guard and was nearly in tears when Thomas lifted a hand.

  “Are you curious why we are here?” he said.

  The queen seemed snapped out of deep thought and scowled. “I assumed you came for Lyndayathek.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I came to ask a favor?” Thomas said.

  The queen turned a shrewd eye on Thomas and he smiled at her. “I came to ask you to give me a gift.” Thomas looked so poised and collected. “I need a slave. It is why I came, and I ask you as a friend and ally to hand him to me.”

  “You came to execute my personal guard, who has become as a daughter to me, and you dare ask me for a gift?”

  “In fact, I did not come for that woman at all,” Thomas said. “I know you did not order my father’s death. I was not even sure it was her until I asked you. Now that I know it is, I am in fact a bit uninterested. My nation is not looking for enemies. For war or for strife of any sort. I am here to make friends with you. As is my duty to my people to do so. As far as avenging my father, that is a little thing to me. Wars have been fought over the death of a king. I would not throw that upon my people unless I had to. Black Cowl was her master when she loosed that arrow. As far as I am concerned, I need not punish the weapon, but hold all of my ire for the one who wielded it.

  “Keep your Lyndayathek. I pardon her of her crime against my crown. I will do this for you now and stand hopeful that you will grant me my slave. I will do this for you and call it a trade well made, and a peace forged between two powerful nations.

  “Give me my smith, and I will give you your daughter.”

  The queen smiled. And Roth looked at Thomas Nardoc in awe.

  A Soft White Glow

  Rayph stared at Smear and Trysliana and nodded. They had her. Brody and Blade had Dran. Rayph stood in his office in the Crown, clenched his fist and punched the desk.

  “They are going to try to bargain with us. They will want one of theirs for Dran.”

  “He will ask for Radamuss,” Smear said.

  “He can’t have him,” Trysliana said. Her arm was tied in a sling and she looked like she was in a lot of pain. “Not after Dissonance. The rat stays with us.”

  “What about Ty?” Smear asked. “Cable will want him back.”

  “Why do we care what Cable wants?” Trysliana asked. “She is an assassin. She is only as good for us as she is useful.”

  Smear turned to her and Rayph stood. He brought his fist down hard on the table and they both turned to look at him. “We are done. We are going after Dran. I will tell Silk. I need to talk to Fanhon and get him to them for a pickup. I need to get the rest of them together. I need—”

  “One more thing, boss,” Smear said. “You’re gonna want blood, but I have bad news.”

  “Spill it. I need to hear it all, Smear.”

  “It was Dirge that took her. He grabbed her when she was wounded and carried her to Blade. I don’t know why he did it but—”

  Rayph stood and brought his fist down hard enough to break his stitches. “I knew that bastard was bad. I know a spoiled soul when I see one. He was devout, but I should have known better. It was her. It was the damn Pale.”

  “What?” Trysliana asked.

  “She is the patron goddess of murderers and killers. She loves Blade Silvertooth for his ability and dark soul. Of course she would send him aid against us.” Rayph realized his feelings were actually hurt that the goddess would cross him like this. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

  “What do we do about Dirge?” Smear asked.

  “We can’t kill him. The Pale will be angered.” Rayph growled.

  “If we can’t kill him, what will we do?” Trysliana asked. Smear looked at her, and Rayph could tell he was angry at the comment about Cable. He needed them to get it together before they went after Brody, but he needed to stay out of it.

  “We will have to cage him until we are done here. I’m sure he will have to leave town after we do. Silk will be raging by now.” Rayph turned to the two of them and motioned to both. “This thing between you two needs to get fixed. Break up or mend up, but I can’t have you two playing these games.”

  “He would rather fight beside Cable than me. He still holds a candle for her,” Trysliana said. She turned to Smear and he clenched his jaw.

  “Why would you say that?” Smear said.

  “You wanted to go after Cosmo without me.”

  “I wanted to do it without taking you, but not so I could be with Cable. I needed you to be safe and—”

  Trysliana punched Smear in the face and he stumbled back. He looked up at her shocked. She spun her foot, swinging up and connecting with the side of his face. Smear hit the ground.

  Rayph sighed. “Sure, work it out in my office, then.”

  Smear looked at her from the floor,
and she jumped back and curled her one good fist in a knot. “Come at me then, Smear. You think you are so much deadlier than me, that I need to be protected. Get up and prove it.”

  “I’m not going to hit you, Trysliana,” he said, getting up and brushing himself off. She spun again, kicked him in the gut. He stumbled back and cried out. “Stop it! This is stupid! I’m not going to fight you. I love you.”

  “You don’t respect me!” she shouted back.

  “That’s not true,” he said. He sounded wounded.

  “If you did, you would realize I am not a weak little girl who needs protecting. You would see me as the deadly, powerful woman I am. So look at me, Smear. Stand up and look at me, and see if you think I need protecting.”

  Smear got to his feet and looked at the woman he loved. She stared back at him and shook her head. “You punched Rayph because he wouldn’t pull me out of Radamuss’s. Even though we needed to get the layout of that place, and without me wenching there, we never would have. We went after the mayor’s children and you wanted me to wait outside, even though you had no idea where they were hidden. You would have had to go around knocking on doors.”

  “So glad you guys feel comfortable talking about relationship stuff around me,” Rayph said. “Really, it’s great.” They both ignored him.

  “So what will it be, Smear? Want to hit me for wanting to go? How about Rayph for doing his job? You gonna hit him for doing his job?”

  “You won’t understand,” Smear said.

  “Of course I won’t, because you’re being stupid and insulting.”

  “I’m not. I’m not being stupid. I am being—” Smear shook his head. “I’m being—”

  Trysliana growled and pulled her fist back again.

  “I’m worried about the baby!” he shouted.

  Trysliana stepped back. She shook her head and touched her belly. “What did you say?”

  Smear opened his third eye and looked at her belly. “We can see when our women are pregnant,” Smear said.

  Trysliana glanced at her belly and shook her head. Rayph opened his third eye and saw it. Trysliana’s belly was glowing white. Rayph leaned back as she wept.