Land of Strength and Sorrow (Secrets of Orendor Book 1)

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Map

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One: The Request

  Two: The Attack

  Three: The Not So Easy Escape

  Four: The Longest Step

  Five: The King's Predicament

  Six: No More Delays

  Seven: The Mammoth Fields

  Eight: An Unexpected Battle

  Nine: A Cabin with a Cure

  Ten: Belisandre's Goal

  Eleven: One Box Crossed Off

  Twelve: Cole-Cap Mushrooms

  Thirteen: Flowers and Cures

  Fourteen: Cabin Shock

  Fifteen: Playing with Fire

  Sixteen: Potion Making 101

  Seventeen: Potions, Cures, and Other Things

  Eighteen: A Marriage of Inconvenience

  Nineteen: A Battle Edged with Magic

  Twenty: Belisandre's Wrath

  Twenty-One: Sinking, Biting Cold

  Twenty-Two: The Next Steps

  Twenty-Three: An Impossible Save

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Land of Strength and Sorrow

  SECRETS OF ORENDOR: BOOK ONE

  Cassandra Fear

  Land of Strength and Sorrow

  Copyright © 2017 by Cassandra Fear

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editing by Jane Curry

  Cover design by Claire Julian

  Formatting by Courtney Shockey

  Second Edition Published : June 2018

  Dedication

  To my amazing husband.

  I thought love was an illusion, something I’d never find.

  Until I met you.

  Thanks for making a believer out of me.

  Panic clawed through every cell in King Ryan’s skin. The screams that came from the upstairs room did nothing to stop his racing heart. His wife. Pain had her in its clutches and wouldn’t let go. He could do nothing to help nor could he take much more. He plucked his fingers from his mouth as he placed his hands on the table. His nails had been chewed to stubs, courtesy of himself. What would be next?

  “Can’t anyone help her?” King Ryan yelled, hoping someone would hear him. He couldn’t focus, no idea if anyone flitted through the room or not, but if they did, they would hear him. He wanted his wife’s pain to dissipate. Who knew having a child would be this unbearable? No more. This is our heir that is all we’ll ever need.

  He placed a hand over his racing heart and pushed back the wooden chair he sat upon. The wood scraped against the floor, then fell back as it crashed onto it. He cared not. He only cared for his wife at this moment.

  He rushed upstairs as the most glorifying sound tickled his ears: the crying sobs of a babe. He pushed the door to his Queen’s room open, ran to the bed, and shoved the servants and midwife out of his way. “Are you okay?”

  She smiled up at him, a shining white babe wrapped in her arms. “Yes, my Kking. I am fine. Better than, actually.”

  After his eyes had feasted upon the beautiful baby’s face, a lightness settled over him. Awe filtered through every surface of his body. He’d made the babe that screamed with such a fine set of lungs. Blood rushed so fast through his veins he could feel every drop moving. Pure, utter amazement hit him like waves crashing into the sand.

  He dropped his eyes between the infant’s legs, and he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. He’d done it. They’d done it, together. Even though it didn’t matter if a son or daughter became heir, King Ryan had always dreamed of a son, and now he had one. Their firstborn son would one day rule, but first, he would learn about love. The kind of love that would lift him up and spin him around until he knew giddiness.

  The King settled into the bed beside his wife. The smile lingered on his face as he placed one finger into the palm of the small hand in front of him. The tiny fingers squeezed his own, and the baby let out a sound, half laugh, half cry and all happiness.

  The balcony doors flew open, a rush of wind blowing through the room. The King stood and rushed to the doors to close them before a chill could settle over the newborn. But, as he grabbed the handle, a force shoved him away and pinned him against the wall. A cold noose slid around his neck. His hands went up instinctively, but he only felt air.

  Why couldn’t he breathe, then?

  A man wearing a long, blue robe walked into the room, one hand raised toward the king.

  “Don’t go near her!” The midwife threw herself in front of the Queen but soared through the air until her head hit the wall with a loud thump. Her eyes closed as she fell like a sack of potatoes to the floor.

  “Who are you?” The words were choked coming from King Ryan’s crushed throat, but he had to try.

  The man dropped the hood from around his face, revealing icy-blue eyes. “My name is not important, King Ryan of Orendor.” He smirked and moved to the side of the bed. His knees dipped the mattress as he shifted onto it. Queen Rovia swung around, moving the baby as far away from the man as she could. “Only know this. My people were starved and came to you for help. You wouldn’t help us, so now you will pay.”

  “Wait, I will— “

  “No, you will not.” The Frost Mage stared at the King for a moment, his ice-colored skin and silver hair shimmered before he turned back to the Queen and studied her. “Such a beautiful child. Such a shame.”

  He held his hand in front of him. The baby lifted from the Queen’s arms, a blue shield surrounding him. The Queen’s sobs rang through the air, and the King’s heart fell to the floor, but still pinned to the wall and barely able to draw a breath, he could do nothing but watch the scene play out in front of him.

  The baby floated into the Frost Mage’s arms. He rocked him back and forth before laying him on the bed. Then, with a smile, he ran to the balcony and jumped. The noose around the King’s neck released, and he rushed to the bed, only to lay hands on the cold, breathless child. A child! No more than a babe who could do not to defend himself. A child born of love and kindness. The hope of happiness shattered into a million glass shards before him, his heart breaking into two.

  Tears sprang from his eyes. Within seconds his cheeks dripped with them, so much water flowing he thought he might drown. He licked his lips, tasting salt. A loud scream reverberated through the room, making the walls rumble. It only took a moment to realize it came from his own throat.

  Sorceress Belisandre came through the door. “My King?” Her eyes dropped to the bed and the King who still held the lifeless form of his child. Her mouth fell open. “What has happened?”

  “The Frost Mages. They killed my son.” The words came rough from his scratchy throat, but he cared nothing for himself at this moment. Something worse than anger pulsated through his blood. He wanted revenge, but he didn’t want them to die. He wanted worse.

  “What can I do?” Belisandre asked.

  Queen Rovia could do nothing but sob as she grabbed her dead son and wrapped him tightly in her arms. That image would haunt King Ryan for the rest of his days.

  He stood.
“I want them to feel this pain.” He took a step toward her. “I want them never to know the love of a child.” Another step. “I want them to feel what I feel, the pain inside me. Can you do that? Can you make them feel all of this? Forever?” He knew his eyes were wide as he grabbed the corner of Belisandre’s black cloak.

  The sorceress nodded once. “I can, my King. But it will not be easy nor will it be cheap. The ingredients I need will come at a cost.”

  “Do it. Make sure there is a cure so I can hold it over their heads, but hide it in a safe place. Curse them, Sorceress, then leave the castle.”

  She tilted her head toward him. “My King?”

  “Leave so they can never find you. If they can’t find you, they will never find the cure. But they will want it. Every single day from this day forward, and I will never give it to them. Nor will you.”

  King Ryan let her cloak drop from his shaky fingertips and moved to the bed, curled beside his wife, and stroked the lifeless baby on her chest. Tears flowed again, and he did nothing to stop them.

  Twenty Years Later

  Jovi’s slippers skidded across the dusty ground as she rushed through the village outside of the castle. Dirt flew up around her as she ran, her guards’ armor clanging behind her as they tried to keep up. She didn’t care. If dried mud were the cost of freedom, she’d gladly pay it. A tight string had been tied around her waist ever since she’d been a child. One her father yanked over and over so he could keep her inside the castle walls, cutting off her freedom. A Princess needed a life.

  Today would be different.

  Today, she’d be able to see her people, the people she’d one day rule.

  Tents lined the makeshift road, and people hollered as she passed—they wanted her to stop, to get a glimpse of their wares. They had to make a living. A green hooded setup caught her eye, so she slowed and wandered over. A long table stretched the length of the large tent, lined with jewels of all shapes and sizes. Colors so vibrant they shone even on a dreary day like today.

  Her fingers glided over a diamond-shaped necklace. The silver chain glittered all the way to the middle where a jewel hung, the brightest color pink she’d ever seen. She’d always liked the color, so she picked it up and fastened it around her neck, noting the weight of it against her chest. It felt like she wore an onion instead of the loveliest jewel she’d ever laid eyes upon.

  “Put that down unless you plan to buy it.” Wrinkles covered the shopkeeper’s face, divulging his age. Loose skin flapped around his neck with every step he took. Once, he may have been tall, but age had taken its toll, adding a lump on his back and the inability to stand straight. If Jovi didn’t know any better, she’d think his back had grown another head. But, she did as he asked and gently set the necklace down again.

  It took him a minute to shuffle in front of her, but when he did, he rolled his neck up to meet her eyes. Then, he bowed down again, his eyes meeting the dirt below his feet. “Pardon my outburst. I didn’t realize…well…I didn’t know the Princess would be out and about today. I meant no harm.”

  Jovi smiled at him. “It did no harm, kind sir. Now, please tell me how much this beautiful necklace is so I might buy it for my collection.”

  “For you, Princess Jovi, there is no price. I would be honored just to see you wear it.” He played with the brown robe draped over his body, sweat dripping from his brow.

  Is he scared of me? But why would he be? Jovi thought. She happened to be as scary as a baby duck.

  Jovi rubbed her brow. “I can’t take it. I have money to pay. I can—”

  The old man laughed loudly, cutting her off. The laugh went on too long, and Jovi creased her brows, not sure how to respond. When he stopped, he reached forward, knocking over trinkets and stands holding up other necklaces. “Nonsense. This is a gift. And I will not take a single penny from you for it.” He held the necklace out to her in the palm of his hand.

  With a smile, she reached forward and took the necklace from the shopkeeper’s shaky hand. “Well, if you won’t take my money, then allow me to thank you, sir. Know that I will admire it and wear it often, telling the tale of the kind man who gifted it to me.”

  The man smiled, yellow teeth hanging in his mouth, some only by a thread. “Why wait? Let me help you put it on now.” He came around the table, took the necklace from her, and clasped it around her neck. Then, he ambled back to where he stood before and stared hard at her, a half-grin full of mischief lining his face. “It glitters like gold on your neck, which is hard to achieve with silver.” He paused, and bit his lip as if he wanted to say something else. Finally, he met her eyes. “There was a story that came with this necklace, young Princess. It is said that whoever wears it will be protected, filled with the ancient power that dwells within the jewel. No harm will fall upon them.” He chuckled. “Of course, it is only a story. A fable. Made to raise hope in one who has none.”

  Jovi cringed, touching the thick jewel. A shiver shot down her spine at his words. Stories were only stories, but a bit of truth always rested within. After her thoughts were stuck for several seconds, she raised her head and forced a smile. “Thank you for sharing. Have a lovely day.” She staggered down the road, fiddling with the necklace. How could it have power? A jewel was pretty and colorful but never had she heard of one that had special powers. The old man’s mind must be flaccid after all these years. I don’t believe in magical necklaces. Simple as that, she thought and focused on her steps.

  When her father had let her out of the castle today, a birthday present of sorts, she hadn’t thought of shopping. In fact, it hadn’t been on her agenda today at all. Yet, she’d still found something that caught her eye and held it. She’d come to town for a very different reason, to breathe. The fresh air did wonders for her soul. Inside the castle, five guards surrounded her every moment. She could not remember a day where she didn’t feel claustrophobic. Today, no one guarded her. Sure, they were there, behind her. Only this time, they were far enough back that she could roam as she wished without them barking orders at her. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again.

  Jovi stretched her arms out to her sides and moved through the dirt road. The bottom of her gown was covered with a layer of dirt, but she didn’t care. She reveled in it. The sunshine wrapped around her, and the soft breeze tickled the hair on her arms until she glanced behind her and saw two guards walking not far behind.

  Her time couldn’t be up already. She didn’t want to go back yet. This had been the first time she felt free in forever. Jovi wouldn’t let them take her back. Not yet.

  So, she ran again, if only to get away from her entourage for a moment. She let the wind blow through her long, red hair and she pumped her legs harder and harder, until she came to the end of the road and the iron gate that held them all inside the village.

  I can’t get through that, she thought.

  Her shoulders dropped as she turned and moved toward her guards, to face the truth. Her time in the village had been nice, but it reminded her of the freedom she’d never have, a freedom she’d always want. She’d never be able to march to the gates of Kingsperch and demand they let her leave. Not as long as her father called the shots.

  She hated being royal in this horrible place. She had no siblings. No one to hang out with. Not a single soul even close to her age that would sit and talk with her for hours on end. All she had were her guards, and they wouldn’t speak to her. They had orders: to remain quiet and watch over her. They would never go against them, or they’d face the King’s wrath, a terrible thing to behold. Just once, she wished she had one person to talk to. Someone to tell her secrets to and to laugh with. But that would probably never happen.

  Not even the cook or her tutor could be her friend, and she desperately wanted one. She’d often thought about what that friend would look like. What her voice would sound like. What she’d say to Jovi to make her feel better when the pressures of the castle became too much to bear.


  With a heavy heart, she stepped right through the middle of her guards, making them hop out of the way. The short walk to her prison would take no time at all.

  Might as well get it over with, she thought.

  When she’d left the castle, she’d had such hopes to have a day to remember. Now, the town and the people around her, as they laughed and talked, only reminded her of what she’d never have.

  A horn sounded, drawing her attention back toward the gate. The doors opened. After a quick peek at her guards, she stared at the gate with longing. This could be her only chance. If she ran through those doors now, she could be free. Her parents would miss her, sure, but if it made her happy…isn’t that what mattered most of all? No, her family mattered. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if they had to imagine her dead and buried within the Forest of the Giants. As much as she wanted to run, she couldn’t. Not even if the deepest part of her soul screamed for her to.

  So instead of escaping her bittersweet life, she stood between the figures of the men who’d watched over her since she was a child. They towered over her as they stared at a group of men wandering into Kingsperch. They all wore blue robes, the hoods covering their faces.

  Who are they? I’ve never seen anyone like them, Jovi wondered.

  They moved as if they floated over the ground. A cold chill swept over her skin as they started to pass her, and the one in front, most likely the leader, raised his head. Icy green eyes met her own, the cover of his hood hiding his other features.

  Jovi stood frozen for a moment, almost as if roots had grown from the ground and wrapped around her ankles. Her heart hammered in her chest as she held her breath. The man let his hood fall away from his face. His skin’s pale glow mirrored fallen snow. She sucked in a breath, and with no more hesitation she ran, this time back to her prison. The loud footfalls of her guards sounded right behind her, so she kept going until she flew through the front doors, then she continued straight up the stairs to the door of her bedroom. The walls wrapped their safe arms around her. Her room was the only place inside the castle that provided even a semblance of protection.