The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin
T C Southwell
The Cyber Chronicles I
Queen of Arlin
T C Southwell
Copyright © 2010 by T C Southwell
Disclaimer
Please note that this is the first book of a series, but the remainder of the series is not available for free.
This series is dedicated to my brother, Phil.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Prologue
“More monsters have come from the Death Zone, Sire.”
King Litham Alrade looked up at his trusted advisor. Lines of weariness mapped his parchment-pale skin, and steel-grey brows drew together above dark blue eyes that had lost their lustre. Shadows lurked in their depths, reflecting pain that gnawed at his innards and loosened his hold on life. The doctors had withdrawn from the sickbed and stood in affronted unwillingness to admit their failure.
Indigo velvet curtains covered the windows and kept the wood-panelled bedchamber gloomy, adding to the sense of doom. Smoking braziers burnt incense, thickening the air with cloying scent. Bottles, vials and pots cluttered the bedside table, testament to the doctors’ futile ministrations.
King Litham’s swift illness had taken everyone by surprise, wasted the flesh from his powerful frame at an alarming speed and robbed him of his strength. The King’s eyes wandered over his long-time friend’s face, as if seeking an answer in his elderly features. Despair flared in his eyes.
“What can I do about it now, Pervor? All that I can, I have done. Did you meet the wizard?”
Pervor nodded. “He agreed to help. He told me that he would send a tool, some sort of magical device, and it will appear in our dungeons when it is ready. Do you truly trust this man, Sire? You leave the fate of your kingdom and your daughter in his hands.”
Litham sighed. “What choice do I have? The gods have decided to take me from this mortal plane, and none can gainsay them. Certainly not that brood of incompetents that lurk in the shadows. I only wish I could stay to see it through. Tassin does not deserve this burden on her reign. She is too young.” Anger warmed the old King’s cheeks for a moment before it drained away again. His wheezing broke the hush.
“Tassin is strong,” Pervor said. “She comes from a long line of warrior kings and queens. She will win.”
Litham shook his head and closed his eyes. “She is frailer than you think. Her mother was as fragile as a flower, and as easily crushed. Why do you think she died after birthing Tassin, who was such a small baby? Tassin tries to be a warrior princess, but she is too small, like her mother, her blows too puny. Mandon, bless him, makes her feel good when she does her sword training, but he tells me that she can hardly cleave a butterfly in half.”
“But she has your blood in her too, My King. She will be strong when she has to.”
“She will try. I pray she does not kill herself in the process. Pervor, swear to me.”
The advisor fell to one knee. “Anything, Sire, just name it.”
“Protect her, and if you cannot, since you are old, find a mighty warrior who will. One who will stand beside her and kill her enemies. She will have troubles aplenty, and not merely the monsters from the Death Zone. The kings will fight for her hand, and none are good. Find someone. Be he mage or warrior, prince or miracle worker. She will need him. Swear this to me.”
Pervor bowed his head. “I swear, My King, upon my life and my children’s, to do my utmost.”
“Tell her of the weapon as soon as she is Queen. Help her to use it, and defeat the Death Zone. I leave her in your care.”
Pervor nodded, frowning as the King’s breath rattled.
A healer came closer to bend over him. “Send for the Princess.”
The advisor rose and retreated as a manservant ran out. The King lay shrunken and pale on the huge bed, the doctors gathered around him like vultures about a corpse.
