Reign of Resurgence: The Edge (Kingdom of Destiny Book 2)

REIGN OF RESURGENCE:

  The Edge

  ANDI NEAL

  Reign of Resurgence: The Edge

  Copyright 2015 Andi Neal

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  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 author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover Design by Andi Neal

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Preview of Reign of Resurgence: The Squeeze

  About Andi Neal

  Dedicated to Joseph, a genuinely extraordinary young man. May you always let your heart guide you, for it beats strong and true.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The entire kingdom of Barico mourned the loss of its king. Those who could flocked to Castle Lochlain to pay their respects. And so many whispered. Not only the loss of a king. But his son as well. The successor to the throne.

  Who would rule Barico? Many predicted the chief advisor would step forward to claim the throne. Perhaps the queen would rule. Or would chaos reign in their peaceful kingdom?

  Shaylin heard a few whispers from the servants in the castle as she passed. But her heart hurt so much, she couldn’t even confront them. Her father. Her brother. They were dead. Killed.

  She closed her eyes. And Tristan. The man who had appeared to them so mysteriously. So many lost. Kale. The names of the fallen Royal Guard flipped constantly through her mind. But the pain that threatened to consume her was the loss of her father and brother. She didn’t know how to handle such loss.

  They had been attacked. She’d been so anxious when her father had announced the raids in the Innswick villages to the north. That Northern pillagers had crossed their borders. She could remember still her brother’s carefree words when she’d voiced her concern over them leaving the safety of the castle. We’ll be perfectly safe.

  They’d ridden out to find the raiders. To bolster the people. To show the people that their king did indeed care. And it had killed them.

  But why had the Northerners crossed into Baricoan territory? Why now? The question rolled constantly through her mind. There hadn’t been disputes between Barico and the North for nearly a decade.

  Rhea sat silently on the bench beside her daughter. Neither spoke. Penley and Walt watched from the other side of the inner courtyard. Walt’s hands fisted as he tried to conceal his rage. He didn’t face the man who would temporarily take the throne. To rule until a decision was made, Penley had said.

  The queen was in no condition to rule. Grief had struck to her very core. She sought comfort in her children. Not the kingdom. Penley’s words, Walt thought resentfully. His daughter had made no such claim. But her grief had taken her will to dispute those words.

  But Walt knew the truth. He’d always known Penley for the man he was. “Coward,” Walt hissed between gritted teeth. “You couldn’t even kill him yourself.”

  Penley regarded Walt with calm eyes. “A king doesn’t have to kill with his own hands,” he replied coldly. “His soldiers do it for him.”

  When Walt’s fury filled eyes turned on him, Penley held up a hand. “Think before you act, old man. I don’t wish your daughter or granddaughters any harm, but if you force my hand, I will have no choice.”

  “You need them,” Walt growled. “If anything happens to them, the people will turn on you. Your brother’s soldiers won’t be able to hold them back.”

  Penley motioned to one of his trusted guards. The new general of his Royal Guard. “Please escort Duke Walton to a holding cell in the Guard’s prison.”

  Rhea jumped off the bench as the order reached her ears. “What are you doing?!” Shaylin followed closely behind her as she bolted across the courtyard.

  Penley spared her a glance. “Your father conspired with the Northern raiders to kill the king. Now he is conspiring against me.” He stepped toward her ominously. In a lower voice, he told her, “We both know you suspect me. You don’t trust me…but I need you to keep up appearances so the people do not revolt.

  “Your father is a liability. I will keep him contained in the prison,” he continued. “As long as you cooperate, no harm will come to him or your lovely daughters. I hope that we understand one another.”

  • • •

  Tristan listened to the whispers as he eyed the inner walls protecting the castle. He’d managed to get inside the outer walls and into the city, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near the castle without being seen. And he couldn’t risk being seen. Not considering the rumors he was hearing.

  Inside would be Shaylin. Rhea. Kyra. They would be hurting and lost. He wanted badly to go to them and try to explain why he was still alive and their father and husband was dead. He wasn’t sure he would have the right words if he did though.

  A hand reached out and snagged his arm. He pivoted around with a raised fist, ready for the attack he was sure was coming. Only to find himself face to face with Ryder. Ryder stared at him with wide eyes.

  “I knew it was you,” Ryder whispered. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was paying them any attention. Then he pulled Tristan between two thatched cottages. “They said you were dead.”

  Tristan glanced around himself and kept his voice low. “We were attacked. The king…”

  Ryder’s eyes fell. “I know. The entire kingdom knows of the king’s death. The prince is dead as well.”

  Tristan gave a small nod but doubt crept in. “Did they bring back his body? We got separated. Quin was with Kale. Did anyone see them die?”

  “No,” Ryder allowed. “But why would they say he was dead if he wasn’t?”

  “They said I was dead,” Tristan pointed out. “Why wouldn’t they recover his body if he was truly dead? Is it not important here to bring an honored man’s body back to his family?”

  Ryder thought about it with a frown. His eyes moved to the crowd that passed in a steady flow behind Tristan. “There are rumors. The Guard is being…suspicious. They should be out, hunting the raiders…but none have left the castle.”

  Tristan nodded. “I’ve heard some of the rumors. That’s why I haven’t approached the castle.”

  “Advisor Penley,” Ryder turned his back on the crowd several feet away so his voice wouldn’t carry. Then he sighed. “King Penley…is saying that Duke Walton, the queen’s father, conspired to kill the king. The rumors say the duke is being held in the castle prison.”

  Ryder hesitated as his brow drew together. “Penley is saying you conspired against the king with him.”

  “Me?!” Tristan stepped back as he gawked at Ryder.

  Ryder shook his head. “I knew it to be a lie. I’ve been looking for you everywhere…I thought maybe there was a chance you hadn’t been...”

  “If they thought I was dead, why bother framing me?” Tristan muttered. The rest of Ryder’s revelation finally hit him. He groaned. “King Penley? He’s declared himself king?”

  Ryder slowly nodded. “Penley has claimed the throne. Without a male heir to succeed King Darius, there’s no one to stop him
. And with the queen’s backing, the people will not rise against him.”

  Tristan’s eyes widened. “Rhea’s backing him?”

  Another sigh. Ryder scraped his hand over his face. “Penley holds her father, and her daughters are still in the castle. I do not imagine she does so willingly. But the people will not rise so long as she is silent inside the castle. Penley has the ability to divide the Baricoan Guard. Many will side with him.”

  “Penley is the one who killed the king,” Tristan realized. Pained fury flashed on his face but was quickly contained.

  Ryder glanced behind them as he continued in a conspirator’s whisper. “Does it not follow logic that the man who takes the throne is the one who conspired against the king?”

  “It was Penley’s idea that Darius and Quin go out,” Tristan told him. “He wanted them out of the protection of the castle.” He met Ryder’s sympathetic gaze. “It wasn’t me. And it wasn’t Walt.” He took a deep breath and turned his eyes toward the castle. “Do you think she blames me?”

  Ryder followed his gaze. “The queen? No. If she doesn’t know the truth already, she will soon enough.”

  “What will Penley do to Walt?” Tristan asked.

  “As long as the queen stays silent,” Ryder told him. “I imagine Walt will receive a reprieve from his expected execution.”

  Tristan balked. “Execution?! They’re going to kill him?”

  “As soon as it is safe for Penley to do so, yes,” Ryder said. “Duke Walton is one of very few who might have the power or will to fight his claim to the throne. But he needs the duke alive to control the queen…for now.”

  Ryder studied Tristan as his gaze continued to bounce back to the castle. He was no longer attired in his unique clothes. He had donned commoners’ clothing not unlike Ryder’s. “Where did you get the clothes?”

  Tristan winced with guilt. “I had to steal them. I will remember them when this is over and give them something in return. I knew I would be easily spotted if I kept my jeans and tennis shoes.”

  Ryder signaled his acknowledgement with a single head bob. “You cannot go back, my friend. Penley will kill you on sight.”

  Tristan nodded. “I know.” He kicked at the dirt with the toe of his borrowed leather boot. “Ryder, who returned to deliver the news of the death of the king and prince?”

  “Captain Janis,” Ryder answered. His eyes flashed with contempt. “General Janis now. Penley has advanced him to general of the Royal Guard…in wake of General Kale’s death.”

  Tristan’s jaw clenched. “If the Northern raiders didn’t kill Quin, what would they do with him?”

  Ryder blew out a breath as he thought about it. Then his eyes snapped back to Tristan’s. “Sell him.”

  “What?”

  “Northerners are merciless,” Ryder explained. “Known for their mercenaries and their entertainment.”

  Tristan shifted his weight impatiently. “What does that mean?”

  “Quin knows how to fight,” Ryder said. “He’s strong. They could probably get good money for him in the Northern lands. Whether for some kind of fight set up for gambling or as a work horse. A slave.”

  Tristan licked his lips as his fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his side. What should he do, he thought desperately. His head told him to run…but his heart knew what he must do. He could not abandon these people as he had been abandoned all his life.

  When Tristan said nothing, Ryder asked, “What are you going to do? I can give you refuge on my father’s farm for a short time but…”

  “No,” Tristan denied roughly. “This is the moment of truth, Ryder. I have to do what’s right.” His hand fisted again and stayed clenched as he battled his rising anger. “I have to follow my heart.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ryder asked again.

  Tristan’s hard gaze came back to him. “I’m going to the North…to find Quin. He’s the only one who can stop this.”

  Ryder stared at him. Then he glanced at the castle. At the valley below where his father’s farm waited. He sighed. “I can’t let you go alone. We’ll go together.”

  “I can’t let you get involved in this, Ryder,” Tristan argued. “You’ve been a good friend to me. I won’t repay you by risking your life.”

  “Do you even know how to get to the North?” Ryder asked with a lifted brow. Tristan opened his mouth to answer, then slowly closed it as he realized he didn’t. Ryder shook his head. “It is as I thought. You need me.”

  • • •

  Rhea stared out at the kingdom she loved. The mountains that had always spoken to her heart. Beyond those mountains, her husband and her son had ventured. Looking to bolster the villagers that had been attacked by northern raiders. To protect them.

  But it had been a trap. The chief advisor, a man her husband had trusted, had betrayed them. For a crown. For the throne.

  And now she’d lost her men forever. Her king. Her husband. Her love. And the son they had made together. The pain threatened to consume her. The only thing that held her together was the sight of her daughters. She had to be strong for them. She closed her eyes as the wind whipped at her hair.

  She drew strength and comfort from the gentle hand that came to her shoulder as the emotions whirled within her. But she made sure her eyes were dry before she opened them. Shaylin stepped to her side.

  “Mother,” the name she whispered was part plea, part fury. “What do we do?”

  Rhea looked at her daughter. So beautiful. She grasped desperately onto the wave of love that washed over her heart. Penley, the new king of Barico, had made himself very clear. If she were to cause him any trouble, her daughters would pay the price. She couldn’t lose them too.

  “Nothing,” Rhea finally answered.

  Shaylin’s face bordered on mutiny. “If you would say but one word, the people would rise for you. The Royal Guard would—“

  “We cannot trust the Guard,” Rhea stopped her.

  “What?” Shaylin stared at her mother. “You don’t mean that.”

  Rhea turned to face her. “Yes, I do. Do you think Penley does not have allies? Do you think he acts alone?”

  That brought Shaylin up short. “You think Kale betrayed Father?”

  “No,” Rhea denied definitely. “Kale died in that raid. I believe he was loyal to the end. But the guard we have trusted for so long has lost its leadership. And Penley has an advantage with the soldiers. Too many of the guard returned alive and unharmed.”

  “Many died, Mother,” Shaylin argued.

  Rhea’s eyes hardened for a moment. “But too many returned without their king. And Janis has gained significant advancement at my husband’s death. I trust the Guard no more. And neither should you.”

  “Then what do we do?” Shaylin’s eyes begged her mother for guidance.

  “We wait,” Rhea sighed. “And we pray.”