Tales of Kingshold Read online

  Tales of Kingshold

  Book 1.5 of the Wildfire Cycle

  D.P. Woolliscroft

  Copyright © 2018 by D.P. Woolliscroft

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For Mum and Keith.

  I think you would have liked these stories.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Author's Introduction

  From Father To Daughter

  Twin Lies

  Jyuth on Magic - Sources of Magical Power

  All that shimmers

  Jyuth on Magic - Inanimate Sources of Magical Power

  Of Buccaneers and Bards

  Jyuth on Magic - Weaving

  Narrowing it down

  Jyuth on Magic - Applications of Magic

  The Working Dead

  Jyuth on Magic - Necromancy

  Hollow Inside

  From the Desk of Lord Marchial Eden

  Circles

  Glossary

  Call to Action

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Coming soon

  1. The Drake

  Foreword

  Welcome to the Tales of Kingshold, a collection of shorter stories that accompany the novel Kingshold. And yes, this book is titled book 1.5 of the Wildfire Cycle. So what does that mean?

  Well, first of all, these novelettes and short stories all stand alone as intriguing explorations of the Jeweled Continent.

  But these tales are also extremely relevant to the overall story I am telling. They provide more color or backstory to some of the major and supporting characters, they answer some open questions from Kingshold, and they introduce new characters who will appear in book two and beyond. And though these stories are relevant, I did not want them to bog down either Kingshold, or book two (titled Ioth, City of Lights) with either additional ‘points of view’ or asides.

  I intend for this to be a pattern for publication going forward. A major book that will be primarily focused in one location and a condensed timeframe, followed by a collection of Tales linked to the events of that book.

  I hope you enjoy the stories and another visit to the Jeweled Continent (and the sneak peek of Ioth, City of Lights). As ever, I would love to hear from you, in particular about what you think about this format, so please find me on Goodreads, Facebook or Twitter.

  Thanks for reading,

  D.P. Woolliscroft

  Author's Introduction

  It has been many years since the events of that fateful summer in Kingshold when Jyuth called the very first election in Edland’s history.

  So long.

  The world is different now than it was then. And so am I. Neither drunkard nor victor. But still, I find myself alone. Missing friends and loved ones.

  I am alone, with only these stories for companionship. Stories that I collected from my former friends, lovers and even my enemies.

  As I scoured my notes in creating this tome, I was reminded of how many years I lost at the bottom of a bottle, my awareness of the passage of time muddied, both before and after these events.

  Some of these tales were gathered when we all lived in the Royal Oak, eager to change the world; others I heard in my first months as Lord Protector when we turned the world on its head; but others required hunting down many years later, when the world had taken its revenge, scavenged from archives or told over glasses of whiskey watered with tears.

  Now, the night draws close for me and these tales and their memories are my only joy.

  There are morals or truths in these tales you would do well to heed. I was told history is a repeating visitor, and though it may have new clothes, it brings old problems. Do not be surprised when it appears at your threshold.

  Mareth Bollingsmead

  From Father To Daughter

  The morning sun streaked in through the window of Neenahwi’s bed chamber. She had not slept well. And not just because the merriment of celebrating the election results had continued until well past midnight. She knew her father, Jyuth, had left.

  Neenahwi rolled across the bed until her outstretched arm reached a sealed scroll. Jyuth had asked her not to read it until he had gone, and for once she had respected his wishes.

  In fact, she was not sure she wanted to read it all.

  She had her final memories of her father; the joy they’d had flying together for potentially the last time, over the city and around Mount Tiston, dodging drakes that tried to catch them in the air. They had laughed at the sport, the sounds emanating as the shrieks of owl and eagle. But as soon as she opened this letter and read what was inside, those memories could be forever altered. And if she knew one thing about her father, if he didn’t want to discuss the contents in person, then it would not be pleasant reading.

  “Coward,” she said, though she wasn’t sure whether she was referring to Jyuth, or simply herself.

  Shuffling upright to a seated position, she broke the seal on the scroll and unrolled it to reveal writing that was shaky and, in places, blotched with tears.

  Neenahwi,

  You are reading this after I have left Kingshold. I do not know if we will meet again, though you will be in my heart always. I have lived a long life, and I am proud of many accomplishments. But it is you that has brought me the most happiness, and peace of mind.

  I took a risk in rescuing you from Llewdon. I didn’t know you. I didn’t know why he wanted you and your brother. In fact, my motivations at the time were only that I wanted to take something he wanted, and to show him that I could infiltrate his home. Not the most noble of motivations, but I am so glad that I let my baser instincts win out. For not only do I think you are important to Llewdon, for reasons I do not know; but, more than this, it brought you into my life.

  Oh, you were hell to live with initially. And I can’t blame you for that. You were young and had been through so much. Captured by the very person responsible for destroying your family. It was only reasonable for you to think that the old man who came along and spirited you away was not to be trusted. Thank you for eventually giving me the benefit of the doubt.

  Neenahwi smiled at the memories of their fights when she had first arrived in Kingshold. Underneath those arguments had been her fear that one gilded cage had been replaced with another. It was only when her threat to leave was met with reluctant approval had she finally accepted that this cantankerous old man bore her no ill will. Now she couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like without him.

  I told you I am tired, but I didn’t have the courage to tell you all of it. My life has been long: more than a thousand years. I learned my skills, and that which I have taught you, at the feet of Myank himself, and I traveled the length and breadth of the Jeweled Continent before forming Edland into the country it is today. I am only human, remember, with a short life. Unlike the elves of course, of whom Llewdon is the last; or even the Alfjarun, your own people. The demon stones have preserved my life for the past four centuries, but my actions before that are some of my most shameful.

  As I have taught you, action requires energy. And life requires life. Initially I thought myself superior to others. Later, I thought I was essential in the protection of Edland as a bulwark against Pyrfew. But no matter the excuse, I had to take the life of others; stealing their mana to roll back the years.

  I tell you this with great shame but I feel you must know.

  It began with people—young people, who wouldn’t be missed—and I took away thei
r futures, took away whatever it was that could have been special about them. There was more than one servant from the palace who I used in this way. I believe there is still some trepidation for those assigned to serve me, even today; though it has been many, many years since any of the staff have gone missing by my hand. That was because I realized that greater levels of mana resided in magical creatures, such as dragons, and even drakes; and so I traveled to find these creatures and again, take what I needed. Eventually, I found the demon stones and they removed my need to steal these special lives, but they too came with a cost; dreams of blood and fire, bouts of anger, and ever more difficult-to-resist urges to destroy.

  “What?” she exclaimed incredulously. She knew Jyuth had killed in the past. He’d killed the King and Queen just a month past, but this was different. This was a murder of innocents. How had he done this for so long? A wave of revulsion swept up from her stomach and caused her to retch. She recalled her confrontation with Gawl Tegyr; the way he had pulled the life out of the men who accompanied him. Was her father no better than that demon?

  She almost threw away the letter but her eyes were drawn back to the page and she continued to read in morbid fascination.

  I will do this no more. I aim to live out the rest of my days naturally, no matter how short they may be. I am burdened by my regrets but, please, do not let this completely taint your memory of me. It was your influence, your example, and my desire for your pride in me, that led me to this decision.

  But I do worry about the state of affairs I leave you with. And I’m sure you must wonder why I have not done anything about Llewdon. The truth is that he is too powerful for me, his servants too numerous. I thought him dead for a while when the elves disappeared, but he returned; and so I have used the resources of Edland to spoil his influences in the rest of the Jeweled Continent. Assassins. Politics. The navy. At other times, open war. These things kept Pyrfew’s ambitions contained, but Llewdon’s tendrils of influence have spread to your homeland, the Wild Continent, and I worry that we have reached a tipping point where he can’t be contained any longer. His threat will only accelerate.

  I know you want revenge against Llewdon but you cannot face him. Maybe one day in the future you will have the strength, but you must be patient. Patient, but proactive in attempting to understand his plans.

  Therefore, it is important that you know more about Llewdon.

  A ball of ratty fur jumped onto her lap and startled her. Tuft, her cat. Neenahwi scratched behind his ear, the purring sounds soothing as the anger that boiled inside her switched its focus from Jyuth to Llewdon, self-styled god-emperor of Pyrfew and scourge of her life. She read on, eager for insight; for instruction.

  I first met the elf when I was under the tutelage of Myank. Llewdon was a strong and intelligent wizard; the best of the elven sorcerers, and he was a friend to my master. But theirs was a strange friendship. Llewdon was envious of Myank and the influence he had over the peoples of the Sapphire Sea. Not to mention that he was the elf’s equal and only a human. Nevertheless, Llewdon would often visit, and he and Myank would spend days in conversation. I would take my turn to wait on them with fellow students, eager for an opportunity to eavesdrop.

  And then, one day, Myank announced that our lessons had ended. From then on, we would need to learn by ourselves. He was leaving for an expedition that we could not join. I would not see my teacher again. I departed, along with my peers, all going our separate ways; and I saw nothing of Llewdon for many years, for rarely did the elves leave their forests, and his friend was now gone. But I heard tales that he had become consumed by the question of where Myank had disappeared to; I assume a terrible fear of missing out had settled in his soul.

  Then word came of the great catastrophe; the death of all of the tribes of the elves in a magical calamity. I thought Llewdon had perished too, but a half century later came the first military excursions of demons and magical creatures; taking lands, subjugating people and forming the nation of Pyrfew. I don’t know for certain, but I can only assume that Llewdon must have either been responsible for the catastrophe or he had previously abandoned his people, if he was the only elf to have survived.

  I don’t know what his motivations are. Is it a simple desire for conquest, or something else? How do you and Motega fit into his plans?

  These are the questions that you should find answers to, though I have tried and failed.

  The only clue I have for you is that Llewdon has always shown a great interest in Redpool. Most people think Pyrfew covets that city because of its position of strategic importance at the mouth of the Sapphire Sea. And that may be part of it, but they are unaware that there may be other reasons.

  Myank was born in the fishing village that was there before the city, back when there was still a tidal pool, surrounded by banks of red sandstone, where we would dredge for clams and mussels. And at that time, he had a tower—a place of study and knowledge—that is there no longer. I can’t escape the feeling that Llewdon’s obsession with Myank’s disappearance is why he has sought to add Redpool to his empire for so long.

  Many of Llewdon’s spy networks in Kingshold are known to me, and I have ensured that they know of my intention to leave, as evidenced by your meeting with Gawl Tegyr. Llewdon will come looking for me. He will not believe my intention to drift away disgracefully, and so I hope that I can prove to be something of a distraction, at least in the near term.

  One thing I have learned from being alive so long, is that time can move in cycles. A thousand years ago many things happened that have stood almost undisturbed since then: the rise of the church of Arloth, the founding of Edland, and the catastrophe of the elves. Now I fear that the circle of time is coming back around again, that tumultuous events are nigh and the world will look very different afterward.

  So do not dally.

  Step on the front foot—as is your want.

  Trust your instincts and identify assets that you can call upon, because you cannot succeed alone.

  Remember, pair action with patience. Remember that I love you.

  And I am so very, very proud of you.

  Jyuth

  Neenahwi screamed a cry of frustration, Tuft leaping away to hide beneath a chair. Was that it? Jyuth didn’t know anything. There were no answers. Just more questions.

  She smashed the letter into a ball and tried to throw it into the fire that smoldered in the hearth. It bounced off the mantel and rolled across the floor, Tuft pouncing on it as if it was a toy.

  Neenahwi got out of bed and paced the floor, thoughts racing through her mind like a herd of stampeding bhiferg. It made no sense. What was she supposed to do? What did Llewdon want? What was compelling him to be such a scourge for so many centuries?

  She grabbed a clay cup and threw it against the wall. Shards reigned down, causing Tuft to dive for cover once more. The fire poker skittered across the floor from a well-aimed kick that left her toe throbbing. She flung open a window and screamed at the top of her voice, “You bastard!”

  Of course she was filled with rage toward Llewdon, but as she sucked in a big lungful of air, she realized that her anger was targeted elsewhere.

  Her father.

  And really, what she meant, what went un-screamed, was why did you leave me?

  Twin Lies

  “So I guess we won.”

  “I guess we did,” said Florian. “Don't feel right though.”

  “What do you mean it doesn't feel right?”

  “Those kids had nothing to do with this. It's not right, that's all.”

  “The way I see it, Florian, is if we hadn't done it, there would be a lot more dead right now. Those people in Redpool for a start, suffering, because of the siege. And they didn't ask for it. I didn't like killing a bunch of women and kids either, but who's to say whether this wasn't right,” said Joe. He was one of the new additions to Sergeant Morris's squad, a few years younger than Florian and he’d done well with the silent, lethal, work of that mor
ning.

  And who knows? In the past, Florian might have seen it the same way. Though he doubted it.

  “I don't know,” said Florian, “still doesn't make me feel good.”

  Redpool was Edland’s only territory outside of the island landmass. It was the kind of strategically-important city used to being fought over. For centuries it had changed hands numerous times; tribes and petty kingdoms warring over it, most long since disappeared, becoming consumed into the empire of Pyrfew.

  This latest tussle over the city that controlled the trade routes to and from the rich merchants on the Sapphire Sea, was all down to one ambitious governor, betrayer of the King of Edland who had installed him. Claim Redpool for Pyrfew and claim the favor of the emperor. It hadn’t worked out too well for him.

  Florian and Joe looked down on the battlefield from their perch at the top of a hill, the dead looking like piles of firewood from this distance. Captive soldiers on their knees, both natives of Redpool sold a pack of lies and Pyrfew troops, too honor-bound to turn tail and run like some of their comrades. That didn't seem right either. It was the cowards who got away to freedom, while the ones doing their duty bore the brunt of the ill will that had welled up inside the Edland army from weeks of skirmishes and failed assaults on the walls.

  The battle had been well matched until Eden's cavalry arrived. They had been the deciding factor. Trapping the opposing army between the pike wall and the stampeding hooves of the horses had assured only one likely outcome. Of course, the army occupying Redpool would never have taken the field if it hadn’t been for the Ravens.