Empire

of

Serpents

RICHARD FIERCE

PDMAC

Empire of Serpents © 2020 by Richard Fierce and pdmac

This is a work of fiction. All events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form without the express permission of the publisher.

Cover design by germancreative

Cover art by Rosauro Ugang

Dragonfire Press

e-Book ISBN: 978-1-947329-45-4

First Edition: 2020

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 1

Gwen

The city of Haddence was a flurry of activity.

Gwen watched merchants pitch their wares, from brightly colored silks to food that permeated the air with their scents. Small children ran along the streets, playing a game and shouting at each other lightheartedly. It was almost enough to make her think that the impending darkness of Torian’s madness was just a dream.

Almost.

Venia had landed outside the city and Gwen had walked from there. Despite traveling by air, which had been a living nightmare for Gwen, it had still taken two days to reach the city. Venia had a voracious appetite and continuously stopped to eat. She promised to be at the rebellion meeting, but Gwen wasn’t sure how that would happen. Venia was massive, so unless the rebellion was meeting outside in a large open field, it didn’t seem possible. The more pressing issue was that Gwen didn’t know where the meeting location was, and it wasn’t like she could ask someone, could she?

“Good day, madam! Wear the finest clothing this side of the border,” a merchant said to her, producing an armful of elegantly sewn dresses. “I sew them myself.” The merchant offered a grin that stretched his pockmarked face and revealed a mouthful of yellowed teeth. He was bald and slightly overweight, but his clothing was of high quality.

Gwen smiled and politely shook her head. “No, thank you. You haven’t seen a group of people that seem out of place, have you?”

“I’m afraid not,” the merchant replied, offering a wink. He tapped his waist where a bag hung from his belt. It clinked with coins.

The man’s intent was obvious and Gwen retrieved a coin from her purse and offered it to the merchant. He swept his hand over hers and the coin vanished, but Gwen hadn’t felt his touch at all. Was he truly a merchant, or some sort of vagrant pickpocket?

“Go to the end of this street and you’ll see the butcher shop on the right. Beside it, there’s an alley that’ll take you to a door. Knock twice.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said. She continued along the cobblestone street, but she could feel eyes watching her. A glance over her shoulder revealed the bald man was gone, replaced by an elderly woman. Gwen thought it was odd, but she followed the man’s directions anyway.

At the end of the street was the butcher’s building, and Gwen found the alley. She stepped into the darkened space and walked twenty feet to reach the door. Gwen raised her hand to knock and heard shuffling behind her.

“Don’t move,” someone said gruffly.

Gwen froze. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“I’m here to see my friends,” Gwen replied vaguely.

“Names, girl.”

Gwen considered lying but decided not to. If this person was connected to the rebellion and she used a fake name, it could keep her from getting into the meeting.

“His name is Eradore.”

“Never heard of him,” the gruff man replied.

“Perhaps I’m in the wrong place. I’m sorry, I’ll just be on my way.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

Something sharp jabbed into Gwen’s lower back and she sucked in a breath.

“Please—”

“Shut your mouth,” the man said. He applied pressure on the blade and Gwen flinched. “Who sent you here? Torian? Grimmar? I’ll gut you like a fish, you blasted spy.”

Gwen barely heard his words. She was focused on the pulse of magic flowing through the fire rune. Her right hand grew warm as the flames started to form. The door in front of her opened and a robed figure stepped into view.

“What’s this?”

“A spy. I was just about to show her what we do to spies.”

“Gwen?”

At the sound of her name, Gwen cut off the magic and looked up to see Eradore. The elf was a welcome sight and she rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. Eradore’s surprise quickly faded and he patted her on the back, then pushed her at arm’s length.

“Is everything all right? What are you doing here?” He looked down the alley, then back at her. “Where’s Aimil?”

“It’s a long story,” Gwen said. “Aimil’s a traitor.”

“Come in,” Eradore bade. “Tell me everything. As for you,” Eradore turned his eyes on the guard. “You almost got burned to a crisp and didn’t even know it. Next time, check for runes.”

“Yes, sir,” came the gruff reply.

Gwen turned to look at the man and saw it was the merchant who’d given her directions. He tucked his dagger away and offered a bow to her. “My apologies. Just doing my duty.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gwen replied. She stepped inside the building, and Eradore closed and latched the door.

“Speak as we walk. The leaders of the rebellion are about to convene.”

Gwen related the events at Auleavell and Steepcross, leaving out nothing. She even showed Eradore her eyes and the dark rune lines that started at her collar bone. His expression was unreadable, but Gwen had the feeling that he wasn’t happy about the dark magic. The two reached a small room guarded by a handful of warriors and a mage. When she finished talking, Eradore was silent for a long while.

“Where’s the vial?” he finally asked.

“Marjorie destroyed it. She said it was too dangerous to give it back to me.”

Eradore frowned. “If what you say is true, Aimil poses a great threat. She’s been privy to many things within the rebellion.”

“She also knows about me,” Gwen said.

“What do you mean?”

“She was in the room when Marjorie told me my true name. Aimil knows I’m Kamron’s daughter. I doubt she’ll keep that information to herself.”

“I think you’re right. She’s probably already reported to Torian. I wouldn’t be surprised if Grimmar himself comes looking for you. Come with me. The others need to know.”

The guards stepped aside to let allow them through. There were many people Gwen didn’t recognize. A few familiar faces stood out and she was relieved when she spotted Lyra. Roland was also present. He’d been there when Tobias had fallen during the fight at the outpost. Seeing him brought back a rush of memories. Aimil had been there, too. The feeling of betrayal stung Gwen’s heart again and she forced herself to swallow her anger. Aimil would pay. Dearly.

“We’ve come together to devise our plans against Torian,” Eradore said, raising his voice to be heard over the scattered conversations. The noise died down and Eradore motioned to Gwen. “These plans will be greatly affected by the news that we have a queen to lead us. This is Quinlee, the daughter of King Kamron.”

All eyes went to Gwen. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention and she could feel her face flushing.

“Hold on!” It was a dwarf. Gwen looked at him, glad for the distraction. It diverted everyone’s attention from her. The dwarf had thick curly brown hair and a long beard. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at Eradore.

“We don’t need a queen to lead us when we’ve got a king.” He thumbed toward a man behind him. Gwen was drawn to the man for reasons she couldn’t understand. He was handsome and fit, with thick auburn hair and intense brown eyes.

“Who are you?” Eradore asked.

“Name’s Torgreth. And his name is Conal. He’s the son of King Kamron, and the heir to the throne.”

“What proof do you have?” Eradore asked. “We have proof from the Great Library that this is Quinlee.”

“And we have proof of the naming runes,” Drustan spoke up, “that this is Darrbie, Kamron’s only son.”

The others in the room began trying to talk over one another until it was a mass shouting match. Gwen rubbed her temples. All the noise was going to give her a headache.

“Stop!” she shouted. “Everyone just stop!”

The room went silent and Gwen sighed in relief. “I don’t want to lead us to war against Torian. I’m not a warrior and I know nothing of battle. I will defer to Conal. And if Conal is Kamron’s son, that means he’s my brother. There is no need for division among family.”

Gwen looked at Conal and waited to see what he would say. She hoped he would agree to take the lead. If she were forced into it, she was afraid many people would die due to the mistakes she would make.

Conal gazed at his sister. She was very pretty. Part of him wondered had they met in different circumstances as strangers whether anything would have happened between them. He shuddered at the thought and refocused. Yet here she was, both a stranger and a sister. He thought he should feel something, some sort of elation at the reuniting with family. But his family had been murdered and what he felt now had nothing to do with family.

“I accept battle leadership,” Conal calmly said. Though his words were full of confidence, his expression hinted that he had some doubts.

“Thank you… brother.” Gwen felt weird saying that. She’d been an only child her entire life. Yet now her long lost brother was here, in the same room with her. It was difficult for her to fathom. “What’s the plan?”

Eradore looked at Conal. “Torian has many Prestiges at his command, but the Great Library’s emissary has informed us that they will join our forces. With their Prestiges on our side, we just might stand a chance against Torian.”

“We also have a dragon on our side,” Gwen said.

“A dragon?” Eradore asked. “You didn’t mention a dragon.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure how I should bring it up, but the dragon that brought me here promised her aid. Her name is Venia.”

“We also have a dragon,” Conal said. “We had two, but one was killed by dragon hunters.”

“Do these dragons know each other?” Eradore asked.

“I’ll have to ask her,” Gwen replied. “She said she would be here for the meeting, but obviously she isn’t here.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Lyra spoke up. “Dragons can do many things, and that includes shapeshifting.”

Gwen looked at Lyra curiously.

“It’s true,” Conal agreed. “I’ve seen it myself.”

“Are you… Venia?” Gwen was being surprised at every turn.

“I am,” Lyra, really Venia, answered. “Though you should use my elven name. My dragon name is personal and only given to those I trust.”

Gwen remembered asking the dragon for her name in Auleavell and Venia had given it to her. She was humbled by the trust that such a mighty creature had in her and felt indebted somehow.

“With dragons on our side, we should easily be able to take Isentol back,” Eradore said.

“Don’t place too much hope in dragons,” Conal counseled. “Yes, they are powerful, but very few remain... less than a dozen. And Torian has dragon hunters tracking them down. We’ve killed those hunters we found, but there’s no telling how many more are on the prowl.”

“Then it’s probably a good idea to keep them split up in case these hunters make it into our camp somehow. Do you have a plan?”

Conal slowly nodded. “We need to keep Torian off balance. It seems to me that Gwen has the weight of magic on her side. I know nothing about magic. Therefore, I propose that we divide our efforts. Gwen and her forces attack from the east with all the magic you can employ. Force Torian to concentrate his efforts and attention to the east. My forces will wait until Torian is occupied with battling in the east… then we will attack from the west.”

“I’ll take Gwen to Auleavell to meet up with Kirith and his forces,” Lyra said. “They’re ready to march with us, he just needs to receive word before we arrive.”

“That’s easily done through magical means,” Eradore said. “I’ll have a message sent to Kirith.”

“That begs the question of how do we coordinate our efforts once we are in position?” Conal asked. “We can’t afford to wait for a messenger to get to us days after the fact.”

“I have an answer for that, as well,” Eradore smiled. “We have two mages that are connected magically by runes, but their bond is deeper than that. They’re twins. Their sibling connection seems to have strengthened the power of the runes and they can communicate with one another over longer distances than usual. One of them will travel with Gwen and the other will travel with you.”

Conal smiled. “Amazing things, these runes. That will work.”

“What about the cities and towns along the way?” Gwen asked. “The people there are innocent and shouldn’t suffer because we’re marching through.”

“I’ve thought about that,” Conal said. “Anyone willing to join us is more than welcome. We can use all the extra bodies we can get. Everyone else can stay put and stay safe and out of the way. Most importantly, we buy everything we need along the way: food, supplies, even the ale. We are reclaiming a kingdom not punishing it. We want this to be as painless as possible.”

Gwen was beginning to like Conal even more. He seemed to be a man of good intentions and she believed he would be a great leader in the aftermath of Torian’s defeat.

“We can work out the minor details along the way,” Conal added. “I think we should get moving. The quicker we are in position, the less time Torian has to prepare.”

Gwen could feel excitement stirring within her. She wasn’t a warrior but was ready to do what her people needed of her.

CHAPTER 2

Conal

Ignoring the usual after-meeting conversations, Conal focused on Gwen. Crossing over to stand before her, the difference in height became glaring. He towered over her by at least two hand spans, causing him to wonder how one set of parents could produce two children of such different sizes. Yet she was very pretty, her green eyes inquisitive as she returned his stare.

“So you’re my sister.”

“It would seem so.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“I grew up in Dawsbury, right under Torian’s nose. It’s on the edge of Isentol.”

“What did you do?”

“My father owned an inn.” She caught herself, remembering the man she had called her father. A lump formed in her throat, but she didn’t cry. The tears didn’t come as often as they did before. “I served tables for him.”

“An inn?” Conal chuckled, slowly nodding. “An interesting place to raise a king’s daughter.”

Gwen smiled in return. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”

“Urve, a coastal town in Tir Manach. My father was a jewelry merchant.”

“Was?”

Conal’s casual demeanor vanished. “He’s dead. My entire family is dead. Torian had them killed.”

“Torian’s men killed my father. And my friend. His name was Tobias,” she replied.

Eradore walked up, a man and a woman tagging along. “I know you two have a lot to talk about, but unfortunately, we’re running out of time. These are the mage twins I mentioned, Kalan and Korla.”

Conal suppressed a grin for the ‘twins’ couldn’t be more different. Kalan was a hand span taller with dirty blond hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t handsome as far as eye-catching, but he wasn’t unattractive either. Yet there was something about him that immediately put Conal off. The man exuded a not so subtle arrogance.

His ‘twin’ on the other hand was a very attractive buxom strawberry-blond with an hour-glass figure, a little taller than Gwen. In contrast to Kalan’s smugness, Korla looked like she felt out of place, her emerald green eyes darting around the room, taking everything in.

Conal silently prayed that Korla was his ‘twin.’

“One of them will –” Eradore began before Kalan cut him off.

“I’ll go with her.” He thrust a finger at Gwen then nudged Korla towards Conal. “You can have my sister.”

“That’s fine,” Conal replied a little too quickly, hoping Gwen and Eradore thought he was covering Kalan’s crass behavior.

“You’d better get moving then,” Eradore said, giving the oblivious Kalan a look of irritation.

Conal turned to Gwen. “See you in Havengarde. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” Her eyes locked onto his and she smiled at him.

For an awkward moment, Conal felt he should do something demonstrable, like a hug or something, to show he recognized he had family again. But it would be like hugging a distant cousin he had met once growing up. He was about to give her the noncommittal hand wave when she closed the gap between them and hesitantly hugged him.

“Watch yourself,” she cautioned. “Our uncle knows we’re alive.”

She didn’t need to say anything else, for Conal understood. “Let me know where you’re in position.”

“I will,” she answered, releasing him. She felt like there was more to say, but whatever it was, the words eluded her. “See you soon.”

“You too,” Conal replied, ready to move on. All the questions he wanted to ask would have to wait. He turned to Korla. “You ready.”

“Yes,” she shyly replied.

He searched the room and found Torgreth and Galadyr in conversation with Voldar and Lorkan, the elf with a bemused smile as he listened to Voldar relate some tale. Conal caught Torgreth’s attention and soon the group was out in the streets and headed to the city gates.

“Where’s Drustan?” Conal asked, suddenly remembering the half-druid-dragon.

“Last I saw him,” Galadyr answered, “he was talking to Lyra.”

Lyra… Conal remembered Drustan’s words, Two of our females have reached that age. It won’t be long for the other four. He wondered if Lyra was one of the female dragons who could still bear young.

“Speaking of which,” Torgreth said, casting a sly look at Conal. “What’s this ‘we had two dragons, but one was killed’ stuff? I’ve been with you for who knows how long and I’ve never even seen one dragon, let alone two… if they even exist.”

“They exist, my friend,” Galadyr replied.

Torgreth frowned at the elf. “You’ve seen one?”

“Yes.”

“A dragon?” Voldar interrupted, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. “You’ve actually seen a dragon? Simply saying ‘I’m a dragon’ doesn’t mean you are one.”

“If he says he has, then he has,” Torgreth retorted.

“OK,OK,” Voldar shot back. “What’s with you?”

“He’s an elf and elves don’t lie. And even if they did, I still trust him.”

“Thank you, Torgreth,” Galadyr said, dipping his in appreciation. “I pray that I always have your trust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Voldar responded, with a little twinge of jealousy. “What about the dragons?”

“How about we have this conversation in private, once we’re outside the city,” Conal interjected.

“He’s right,” Korla said, her voice soft and delicate. “There are too many prying ears here.”

Conal noted that she walked behind them, doing her best to keep up. Slowing the pace, he motioned her to walk beside him.

“So, you and your brother can communicate even though separated by great distances.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“Yes.” She gazed up at him, smiling pleasantly. “It’s a trait we discovered when we were very young.”

Conal returned the gaze and smile as they walked. “And you’re really twins?”

She giggled with girlish charm. “Yes.”

“Who’s the oldest?”

“I am.”

“Were your parents surprised that they were having twins.”

“No. A mage midwife had predicted my mother would have twins a year before she was pregnant.”

“She predict anything else?” Conal pondered how he could spend more time with her without it looking too obvious.

“Just that we would be mages.”

“You’ll forgive me if I say that I have a hard time picturing your brother as a mage.” This caused her to giggle again and Conal was smitten.

“He never did want to be a mage. Wanted to be a warrior, a soldier. Pa wouldn’t hear it, especially after the midwife said he was going to be a mage.”

Conal thought about it a moment. “Is he a mage because that is what he’s really supposed to be or because your father made him become one and therefore the midwife’s prediction is true regardless of his desires.”

Korla stared at him as though he had plumped the depths of a divine mystery. “You are the first person ever to understand that. I’ve thought that all along, but never wanted to say anything because it would just make father angry. Besides, now it’s too late for him to be anything other than a mage.”

“I understand.”

“I think we’re far enough away from the city now,” Voldar said with a knowing grin at Conal who glanced around, realizing they had passed through the main gates and he hadn’t even noticed. “You can tell us about dragons now.”

“Hold that thought,” Lorkan announced, seeing a runner headed his way, a young man moving at a good clip.

“Commander,” the young man greeted him, catching his breath. “Sorcha’s intercepted a large force and is falling back towards us. She asks for immediate help.”

“I thought she was at least two days north of us,” Conal said. “We’ll never reach her in time.”

“We need to try, m’Lord. She’s a resourceful commander, but she can’t hold out against Torian and what remains of Caldyr’s army.”

Conal’s lips pursed. “This is not how we intended to begin. We need Torian’s attention in the east.” Narrowing his attention on the messenger, he asked, “How did you get this information.”

“Message hawk.”

“M’Lord,” Lorkan corrected.

The young man’s eyes popped wide. “M’Lord.”

“How long did it take for a hawk to get here?”

“A couple of hours… m’Lord.”

“A couple of hours?” He was about to say that was impossible when he recalculated that a hawk could average 30 miles an hour. That would put Sorcha around 60 miles away. With a forced march, they could be there in two days.

“Your orders, m’Lord?” Lorkan said.

Conal thought quickly. “This could still work. If Gwen can move her forces by the time we connect with Sorcha, it might still work.” Turning his head to look at Voldar, he said, “Why wasn’t the dwarf commander with us in the meeting?”

“He’s a prickly one. Gets his felling hurt at the drop of a hat. Near as I can see, he was waiting for a royal invitation from you.”

“We don’t have time for games,” Conal growled. “Lorkan, get ready to move. We go to help Sorcha. You two,” he said to the two dwarves, “let’s go have a heart-to-heart with Storri.” Not forgetting Galadyr, he said, “Would you mind finding out where our druid is?”

“As you wish,” Galadyr replied with a respectful nod.

“What about me?” Korla piped up.

“You go with – no, change that. You come with me.” Conal increased his pace, the dwarves and Korla quick marching to keep up.

As they made their way to the dwarven camp, Voldar leaned in to Korla. “The commander’s name is Storri Broken-nose. You’ll understand when you see him. One thing you gotta watch out though is not to slip up and call him ’Snorri.’ As you can imagine, he doesn’t like being reminded of his nose.”

“It can’t be that bad,” she replied.

It was that bad when they stepped into Storri’s tent and he looked up from behind the small field table he as using as a desk. Storri’s nose looked like it had been hit with a smithy’s hammer across the bridge for it was nearly flat, the nostrils like two eruptions on both sides.

“We missed you at the meeting, Commander,” Conal said, doing his best to stare into the dwarf’s eyes.

“I wasn’t invited,” he harrumphed.

“You don’t need an invitation,” Conal emphatically said. “You are an army commander. How am I supposed to plan and organize when the battle captain of half my force thinks he needs to be invited? When I asked King Rorkyn for support, he promised me he would send his best soldiers with his best commander. So you see, I need input from Rorkyn Orefell’s best commander.”

Assuaged, Storri cleared his throat. “Yes, well… all a misunderstanding, I’m sure.”

“Good. We need to move out immediately. Sorcha is under attack and needs our support. If you will ride with me, I’d like to go over what we discussed in the meeting and get you input.”

Flattered, Storri stood up and barked out orders to get ready to move then cast a look of authority at Torgreth and Voldar. “What are you two lollygagging around here for? Go find your regiment.”

The two exchanged a worried glance as neither knew to which regiment they belonged. Besides, they had no clue what it meant to be a dwarf soldier. They liked where they were, hanging out with Conal.

“With your permission, General,” Conal intervened. “I’d like to keep these two with me as liaison officers representing you. They know the operation and would be beneficial to me as the campaign proceeds, acting as messengers between you and me.”

Storri harrumphed again and furrowed a thick brow at them. “Alright, m’Lord. If you can put up with those two, that works for me. Saves me the trouble of finding suitable liaison folks.”

“Thank you. Well then, I’ll leave you to get your army ready. I’ll send one of the liaison officers to find you to let you know where I am.”

Once outside, Torgreth sidled up to Conal sighing a big, “Thank you.”

“That was very diplomatically played, m’Lord,” Korla commented, impressed.

“We don’t need personalities interfering with our battle plans. I meant what I said in there. I need him.”

As Conal led the way to where Lorkan’s army was lining up, he turned his head to look at Korla. “Can you contact your brother and tell him what’s happening?”

“What specifically, m’Lord?”

“That we’ve been forced into attacking earlier than we had planned. She needs to get her forces in place and engaged as quickly as possible.” He turned his head to see where he was going. “And my name is Conal.”

“I know, m’Lord,” she replied, her voice almost a coo, “and I am flattered with your familiarity, but you are still a king’s son, a prince, and I am just a mage.”

Conal slid his eyes to the right to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman striding next to him. You are far more than just a mage. Are you playing hard to get? Is there a man in your life? He was about to ask when she bent her head, staring at the ground as they walked.

She abruptly stopped, causing the others to stop.

She frowned in puzzlement and tilted her head to look up at Conal. “I don’t understand. He’s not responding. The only reason for that is that his mind is focused, concentrating on something else so much that he’s not listening.”

Conal’s jaw tightened and he resumed walking, shaking his head. What’s the point of you being here other than as a distraction if you can’t communicate with that idiot brother of yours? “This is not good. If it doesn’t work now, what makes you think it will when I really need it.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, m’Lord,” Korla fretted, taking three steps to his two to keep up.

“Forget it,” Conal replied though his irritation was evident. “You can try again later.”