Prologue

It was a cool night and she snuggled up closer to her husband. She could hear the soft breaths of her infant son in his crib, only feet away. She didn’t know what woke her up but she was desperate to get back to sleep. A floorboard creaked and she turned over to see what had made the noise.

It was Zaron, third guard to the queen, and his normal post was far away from her room. He took another step toward her, but he was shaking and it looked like his legs were defying him. He saw that she was awake and closed the distance between them.

“My queen…” he paused and his hands were shaking uncontrollably. “Your father has sent words from the Kingdom of Light and he wishes to have your audience.”

She didn’t think the request was strange. It had been years since her father had exiled her for marrying Daiden, and she had been waiting all that time for him to see that he was an idiot. She also didn’t find it strange that he was sending this request in the middle of the night, because King Eadric was known for waking up at strange hours and making strange requests.

She rubbed her eyes, “I’ll go and see him at first light.”

“My queen, I do not mean to question your wishes, but King Eadric was insistent.”

She sat up and promptly shivered. “Bad omen this cold weather were having.” Zaron grunted. “Hand me my robe, would you.”

She pulled on her linen robe, but it didn’t cease the chill in the room. She pulled the blankets higher over her son’s chest and kissed his forehead, Adan’eos smiled in his sleep. She dressed herself in dim candlelight, feeling a sense of urgency. Her father had finally forgiven her.

Zaron came back in to tell her that her ship was ready to sail. She thanked him and picked up her son. Her parent’s hadn’t met their first grandchild yet. From what she knew, they hadn’t even read the letters saying that they had a grandchild. Her brother’s wife, in no more than a month, would have their second grandchild.

Zaron patted the boy’s head, “you aren’t going to take your child with you are you?”

She smiled, “well why not?”

“He may get ill from all the freezing ocean chill.”

“Good point, Zaron.” She put Adan’eos, still sleeping, back in his crib. “Watch over him, would you?”

“My queen, I will. Have a safe trip, Queen Saijose. Blessed be all your days.”

“What are you ranting about, Zaron? Have you been drinking again?” She smiled, “tell the next guard to tell my husband that I’ll be home before tomorrow afternoon.”

She was bundled in furs on the boat ride over. Two hours of freezing water slapping her in the face. Then another two hours on horseback to the Palace of Light. She expected her father to be in the throne room waiting for, but he was not. Figures, she thought, he makes me come all this way and has already gone back to bed.

She walked up the stairs, slowly, beginning to get nervous. What did he want? She hadn’t begun to answer herself when a woman screamed. She followed the voice as it rolled through the hallways and down the stairs, but she knew in her heart where the scream was coming from.

The halls were empty, completely empty. Why aren’t the guards sweeping the hallways? She found all the guards moments later. All crammed in the hallway outside of her parent’s bedchamber. She was shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. She made her way through the mob, snaking in between people. At first all she saw was a shield and a sword scattered on the floor. Then she saw everything: a shield, a sword, an arm, a leg, a bodiless head. It didn’t register for a minute. Then it did- someone was dead. The exterior guard was dead.

She went into the room. Blood soaked through her leather sandals from the blood-logged bear rug on the floor. Another guard dead. Her mother’s eyes were wide, beheaded long before she could scream. Her father’s head was turned toward his wife, beheaded. Had his last sight been his wife, or was it just some accident? The assassins had been thorough. Everybody they killed would never have a chance to heal. Arms, legs, heads had been cut away from their bodies. Hands and feet were removed from the arms and legs. They had shoved a sword through everyone’s hearts. At least their heads weren’t on pikes. She stepped around the bed, one of the assassins had fallen here. How many were there?

Then it dawned on her. This wasn’t their only stop. She turned around and whispered, Daiden. Magic couldn’t get her to her castle quick enough, and her legs couldn’t carry through the hallways any faster. She was crying, and couldn’t manage to get a breath. She could hear the boots of the soldiers behind her, but they were just a distant dream. Daiden, Daiden, her mind screamed.

She ran into her own bedroom. The screams that came from her mouth were hate-filled. Her husband’s arm was flung to where she should have been. There was nothing she could do for him. Two of her guards were dead. There was one face she didn’t recognize, another assassin fell here.

She was walking, jerkily, toward the crib of her three year old son. She leaned over the crib of her son, terrified of what she thought would be there. The crib was empty. She let out a brief sigh of relief. Prince Adan’eos was alive somewhere.

She heard the faint clank of a distant sword fight. She ran toward the noise pulling her short sword from its sheath on her hip. She reached her brother’s bedchamber after the noise stopped. Three of her guards were dead, one outside and two inside the room. The bed where her brother slept was a mess. Her brother, Rio’se, was headless, and there was a clean cut through his heart. His wife, Ylliaina, was headless as well. There was a stab-wound through her heart, but the worst of it was the sword still sticking out of her pregnant belly. There might be hope that Rio’se and Ylliaina might heal, their wounds were not as thorough. But the unborn child was gone.

She saw two of the assassins, dead, near the window. They had died while trying to escape. She saw her guard, Zaron, but when she got closer to the window there seemed to be two of him: one dead, one dying. The one that was dead was Jairosh, Zaron’s twin brother, personal assassin of King Errol, the eternal bastard king. Zaron was closest to the window, trying to swallow past the blood in his throat. He was limbless, and had a dagger in his chest.

She dropped to her knees beside him and held up his head. She looked around for his missing body parts. If she could put them back into place he could heal. She was crying again. She’d known Zaron a long time. Him and his brother had kidnapped her and her brother a long time ago. When she had been found, Zaron was in her parent’s jail. He led them to her brother, and Saijose got him released from prison. He swore that he would protect her to the day that he died as her guard. All her guards had, but she had never really expected any of them to die. She cursed the war.

“My Queen, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t speak,” she put her finger over his lips, “and don’t be sorry, you tried to save them.”

“I knew…” He coughed and tried again. “I knew they were coming. I was supposed to keep anyone from leaving.”

“Zaron, why,” Saijose asked in disgust.

“My brother, I loved my brother. King Errol said he had him in jail, and if I didn’t do as I was told that he was going to execute him.”

“Then you had an attack of conscious, and told me to get out. Is that it?”

“Yes. I took your son to your godmother’s home. I came back to help defend them…” He coughed, spitting blood into the air. “… you’re dead. I send a messenger owl to King Errol and told him everyone’s dead. You’ll have a couple of days before he knows any different. He’s going to seize your and your parent’s kingdoms. He must be stopped.” He coughed again. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me…”

In her arms, he died. She had always known that Zaron had loved his brother, like she had loved hers. Zaron once told her of a battle he and his brother fought together. Zaron was hurt, sword through the back of his helmet, and Jairosh was hurt, broken collar bone and a few other injuries. They had been too young to take such injuries, and to young to heal them quickly. Jairosh carried Zaron miles away from the battle. She could understand his reasons for betraying her family. She probably wouldn’t ever be able to forgive him, but she understood it.

It was two days later, and she was at the funeral. It was customary to wait three days, just to make sure the dead would not heal. But she was planning her revenge for later that night, and she would see the dead at peace before then. Rio’se and Ylliaina weren’t going to rise, there had been hope, but that was gone now.

She placed coins over the eyes of dead, so that they could pay the boatman to get across the river, Styx. The fire started when she thrust her torch into the piles of hay and wood. The flames grew till they reached the sky so the gods would accept their souls into their arms. There were sobs from people all around her. It looked like the whole of two kingdoms had turned up for the funeral. The only thing she wanted to do was drop to her knees and cry, but the people needed their queen to be strong. She held her head high, and fought back the tears. She stared at the bodies is the pit and swore she would have her revenge on the man who had ordered the death of her family.

She was in another castle. In her uncle’s bedroom, staring down at him while he slept. She shook her head. What man could order the death of his son, his sister, or his grandson? She spat at her murderous uncle while he slept soundly in his supposedly peaceful kingdom. Everyone who meant him harm was supposed to be dead, there wasn’t even a guard in the room. Just as she thought about the fact that there was no guard, one came him. He stared at her, she stared back. He backed out of the room. She laughed.

She slapped her uncle hard in the face. He blinked into consciousness, and looked up at her.

He started screaming, “Guard, guard!” No one came in. He turned to her. “Would you kill you uncle in cold blood, while he sleeps in his bed with no weapon?”

“Why not? You did the same to my family.” She unsheathed her sword.

“No… no, I did not. You must be confused. I wouldn’t do that.” She hated to see him like this.

“You may not have been there, King Errol, but their blood is on your hands.” She laughed, “and I will relish in the fact that your blood will be on my hands soon.”

“Please, have mercy.”

“Shut up! Will you beg me for mercy?” She shook her head. “Quiet your tongue and die with honor, you fool.”

“I am a man, and a king, and I forbid you to kill me!”

That made her laugh hysterically. She had never taken orders from any man, not even her own father. “You are a man? What kind of a man sends assassins to do his dirty work? What kind of a man orders the death of his twin sister, my mother? What kind of a man orders the death of his own son, my husband? What kind of a man sends someone to kill his grandson, an infant prince? No man would do those things. You are nothing more than swine.”

“You cannot kill me, I’m unarmed!”

“Then get up and fight me. There is a sword no more than ten feet away from you.”

“No, I know this about you, if I am unarmed you will not kill me.”

“Really? That might be true any other time than this, but this is revenge.”

“No.”

“Arm yourself!”

“No.”

She screamed, a wordless pain-filled scream. “Fine then, with your death I retake the kingdoms you stole, as well as your own.”

“No!”

She swung her sword. It was bloody and tiring work. To kill Imorali is a difficult job. You have to take the head, the hands and feet, arms and legs, and cut through the heart. For good measure, she cut the torso in two. She picked the head up by the hair, and walked into the hallway. Two guards were there, watching her walk with interested eyes.

She screamed at them. “Go then, tell the kingdom that their evil king is dead!”