Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more
Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more

Testi

Testi

Testi

Testi

Chosen King - M.J. Sewall

 

Young Adult Steampunk Fantasy Book Series

Chosen King by M.J. Sewall

Series Excerpt

Rolem knew Trunculin was in one of his rages. He didn’t want to say anything that would make things worse as he tried to keep pace next to the firstcouncilor.

“Go to the healers. Find out what happened, what is wrong with him. I have to see someone. I will join you there soon,” said Trunculin.

Rolem wanted to ask who could be so important to see now, of all times, but working closely with Trunculin had taught him not to ask too many questions. “Yes, firstcouncilor,” was all he said.

Rolem went toward the healers and Trunculin headed down another hallway. The firstcouncilor made his way to a small corner of the palace where there were no guards. He unlocked a narrow door.

A very thin man was sitting on a pillow, holding both sides of his head. His eyes were closed. Trunculin towered over the man. The thin man was breathing slowly. He did not open his eyes.

In as calm a voice as possible, Trunculin asked, “What happened?”

The mystic put his hands down, and slowly opened his eyes. “Who is this boy?”

“A poor boy from the villages. We are trying to find his parents. He lives with his uncle, who used to be firsthealer. We cannot find the uncle anywhere. What happened?” repeated Trunculin.

The thin man looked calmly at Trunculin and said, “When I tried to install the vision we agreed upon, I had to be very aggressive. The boy’s mental walls are very strong; much stronger than they should be for a boy of thirteen. I nearly worked my way over these walls. But before I could install the vision, he has a dream vision of his own.”

“How is that possible? Is the boy a mystic?” asked Trunculin.

“No… no, I don’t think so. Our guild would have detected him years ago if he had true mystic gifts. I don’t know what he is. But I was able to see his dream vision as a passenger in his mind,” stated the thin man.

Trunculin sat in a chair facing the man, “Tell me.”

“The boy was falling from an airship. But this airship was much bigger than any that exist… at least, any my guild know about,” said the mystic.

Trunculin shifted in his chair. The mystic stared at Trunculin, “Don’t try to look in my mind, mystic, my walls are stronger than you know. Don’t change the agreement now.”

“Of course, firstcouncilor,” The thin man nodded. “There was a battle between several men on ropes. One man was your firstman Brenddel. He was firing arrows at another man. This man had a patch over one eye.” To underline the point, the mystic pointed to the eye the patch was over.

The mystic thought he saw a note of fear on Trunculin’s face, but it was just a flash.

“Mantuan?” asked Trunculin.

“Yes. And there was a fierce girl fighting by his side. There were armies from at least four other kingdoms fighting each other. Around all this, there was fire. It was as though the entire world was in a fiery war. There were two shadows overseeing the destruction,” finished the mystic.

Trunculin’s face hardened, “But this wasn’t a true vision?”

The man said, “It couldn’t have been. The boy is no mystic, and there is no airship that large. Also, the kingdoms that I saw fighting have been allies for years. And, Mantuan, of course, is dead.”

Trunculin was quiet for a moment, “But if Mantuan did survive… somehow…”

“That would be surprising, but it might explain a few things,” agreed the mystic, offering nothing else. He blinked and looked at Trunculin expectantly.

Trunculin looked away. The day had started to show on him. “I am tired. I need to go check on the boy.”

“How does this change your plans? Is there anything more you would like to share with the guild?” asked the mystic, blinking again.

Trunculin rubbed his upper lip, “The plans stay the same. We made the boy kings powerless. Gordon is king, only not able to serve. A sick king is easy enough to control. I will make up some illness and rule through him.”

“But the crown fell. There may be an issue…” said the man.

“No. Stathen did his duty. He went amongst the people. Gordon is rightfully king, even though he wasn’t meant to be. It will serve,” Trunculin said. He hesitated, “Before I go, I need your skills.”

The mystic opened his palms and offered a nod. He said nothing else. The mystic did his duty. When he was done, Trunculin said, “I have to go to Gordon. My absence will be noted.”

The mystic nodded again and closed his eyes. Trunculin left the room more disturbed than when he arrived. He made his way to the healers. He walked past the guards and into the healer’s chambers. There were no windows, as this was an interior set of rooms in the palace. The soft glow of light came from the walls and ceiling. Trunculin forgot how bright it was in the healing chambers. He squinted, sniffing the air that smelled so unique to these rooms, and remembered how much he hated coming here. Gordon was in the furthest corner of the maze like area, separate from the other sick. The firsthealer was standing over him, making notes in a leather-bound book.

“How is the king?” asked Trunculin without greeting the firsthealer Corinn.

“He is resting. We gave him a something to keep him asleep until we find out what is wrong with him,” she said.

“Good, I have been…” Trunculin started.

“What did you do to him?” she interrupted, turning to face Trunculin.

He began again, avoiding her direct stare. “I had a mystic implant a vision. To guide the boy to the right decisions.”

“Why did this mystic try to rip his mind open? This is not what I agreed to,” replied the firsthealer.

“What you agreed to was the smooth continuation of this kingdom. The boy has to be controlled. Nothing has changed. He will be kept here and I will make some announcement tomorrow. It is too late for you to have doubts,” Trunculin said.

The firsthealer said, “I can keep him like this indefinitely. I am using a weak poison that will keep him asleep, but alive. But no more surprises, firstcouncilor. I will not be so willing if there are any more plans kept from me.”

She used to say my name, he thought, “Of course. This developed quickly. There was not enough time…”

She turned to Gordon’s bed, made another note. She looked at Trunculin quickly, firmly, and left the room without saying another word.

Trunculin looked out the door she had just exited, then went to Gordon. The large bed made the boy look very small. He was lying still, his face looking troubled as he slept, brow furrowed. Trunculin stood over Gordon for another moment, then he left.

A few moments later, a cabinet near Gordon began to slide away from the wall. A head popped out from around it, surveying the room. Aline quietly slid the cabinet further away from the wall and quickly went to Gordon’s bed. She removed a small ball of soft bread and placed it in Gordon’s mouth. Aline looked around nervously to the entrance to the room. She wished there was a door there instead of just an open archway. She tapped her hand quietly against her leg and waited.

Gordon groggily opened his eyes and started to say something. Aline quickly put her hand over his mouth and a finger to her own lips. Gordon realized something was in his mouth as Aline said, “No words. The zoress bread will absorb what they gave you,” she whispered.

She checked the archway again to see a healer’s assistant standing there, “Who… who are you? How did you get in here?”

Aline made a quick movement with her left hand. The assistant collapsed quietly to the floor. Gordon saw the small stick Aline had thrown into the man’s neck. Gordon had barely seen her hand move.

“Come on,” whispered Aline as she helped Gordon out of bed. She put her fingers in Gordon’s mouth quickly and removed the bread. What had been a soft white bread was almost black. She dropped it and it crumbled when it hit the floor. Gordon’s legs felt wobbly, but she was able to help him to the hidden panel behind the cabinet. Gordon went through first, and Aline pulled a rope attached to the cabinet behind her, pulling the cabinet tight against the wall; the small passageway was sealed again.

The firsthealer began to walk into the room, but saw the assistant puddled on the floor, “What is…” She looked around and saw that Gordon was gone. She realized that she needed to act fast. She examined the assistant, took out the tiny spear from his neck and smelled the tip. This just got stranger, she thought as she quickly exited the room. She told another assistant to attend to the man on the floor, explaining nothing else as she ran from the healing rooms.

She got to the guard level a few moments later.

“The boy is gone.” She told Brenddel, out of breath.

“What do you mean? Gone where?”

“Gone. Taken somehow. The room was monitored, I don’t know how someone got in or how they got out. One of my men was knocked out with this,” she handed the small stick-like spear to Brenddel.

He smelled the tip. “Swamp rot. Who are these people?” Brenddel paused, thinking, “No one saw him leave the room, or another person come in the room?”

The firsthealer said, “No. The room was watched. Someone was checking on him every quarter hour.”

“Was Gordon in the last room?” asked Brenddel.

“Yes, how did you…”

“They must be in the old passages. Only a few people know about them. It has to be Loren.” He slams his fist on the table. “He was in the palace all this time!”

The firsthealer asked, “Loren? Why would…?”

“He’s the boy’s uncle,” replied Brenddel.

“Strange, the firstcouncilor didn’t tell me that,” said the firsthealer stiffly.

Brenddel and the firsthealer moved quickly through the door. “I know the passages, there is only one place they lead. You tell Trunculin. I will go catch them. Hurry.”

 

Chanson de Guerre - Christopher Fly

Alex McEwan Mysteries - Richard Mosses