High Sheriff of New Camelot

By Brenda Gable

Lady Stella of Sea Breeze Keep has worries. She’s fending off the advances of a covetous neighbor, running a contraband operation, scanning the horizon for marauding Vikings, and dealing with the teenage angst of her grandchildren. The king’s courier brings word that High Sheriff “Bloody Matthias” is assigned as the next in a series of stewards. An ex-lover who left her in dire straits when called to fight in the Troll Wars, Matthias is a heroic knight, one who will not fear the “Haunt of Sea Breeze” that Stella employs to discourage would-be stewards.
Matthias is weary of fighting. Offered the stewardship, he doesn’t hesitate to take the lucrative position. He hopes he and Stella can work together. A lifetime ago she swore her undying love to him in a hayloft, yet married when he was up to his eyebrows in trolls. Now she’s determined to be rid of him and uses foul food, frozen laundry, and a howling teething infant to hasten his departure.
Time and experience have aged and changed the old couple, but the passion they shared still smolders. When Matthias uncovers her smuggling operation, he becomes enraged. Pulling her over his knee, he spanks her for endangering herself, her family, and his honor. Aghast at his behavior, he flees the keep.
A heartless Viking, Elwyn the Black, attacks via a subterranean cave. Stella’s grandson Chip dons the guise of the “Haunt” and Stella preys on Elwyn’s superstitious nature. Upstairs, the baby releases an eerie hungry howl. Elwyn retreats taking Stella’s granddaughters with him.
Matthias returns to apologize for his behavior and finds chaos. To rescue the girls, he needs an air assault. Fire breathing dragons are approached. In exchange for his gold, Queen Gisselle and her mates agree to fly Matthias and two other warriors out to the Viking ships to rescue Stella’s granddaughters. Meanwhile, Stella rallies Matthias’s knights to follow across the sea.
Dragon fire reigns down on the ships distracting the Vikings. The girls are located and Matthias engages Elwyn the Black. A dastardly attack by Stella’s treacherous neighbor renders Matthias unconscious and he is bludgeoned almost to death. Chip, Stella’s grandson and heir to Sea Breeze, kills Elwyn with a sword feint Matthias taught him.
Matthias is dying. Only the healing magic of Bethany Regina, the Crystal Sorceress, can save him. While Stella collects up her grandchildren and takes them to safety, a young knight teleports Matthias to Dragon Keep and the Regina saves his life.
Awakening from a healing sleep, Matthias finds Stella in his bed. He smiles at his old love. Finally, they’ve put aside their old heartbreak. Feeling his surge of love, Stella confesses that Chip is his grandson. Matthias is first stunned. Then fury takes over when he realizes what she’s stolen from him: his son, a family, love. He rails at her. Stella flees his vitriol and has the local fairy return her to her Sea Breeze.
In both keeps, fairies chastise the old lovers and encourage them to listen to one another and renew their love. Both Stella and Matthias claim it is too late. Too much time and too many wrongs have come between them. They feel the other hates them. The Regina sits with Matthias and reminds him that Lady Stella risked her life and the lives of her grandchildren when she led her forces to rescue him. Chip is a young warrior. He needs Matthias’s guiding hand.
A courier gives Stella a message: a new steward is to be appointed. If any harm comes to him, she and her family will be evicted. Stella is resigned. She will acquiesce to the new steward in order to keep her family safe and secure in Sea Breeze.
The fairies are aflutter. The new steward is Matthias! He vows to give her free rein if she will only quit smuggling and let him help her. She throws herself into his arms. They rendezvous in the hayloft. It is where life changed for both of them when they parted thirty years ago. Once again, they vow their undyi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brenda Gable
• Release date: Mar 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311699473

Brenda Gable

An award-winning author, Brenda Gable is a graduate of North Carolina State University and the Air Force Institute of Technology. She is published in southern magazines and anthologies. The mother of two adult children, lover of an absentminded yet brilliant husband, and caregiver to a clowder of cats, one hyper dog, and a noble horse, she's a very happy woman. Brenda enjoys sports and daydreaming up "what if" scenarios while she attacks the weeds in her flower and vegetable gardens. Her twisted mind has produced a series of New Camelot tales. She hopes you enjoy reading them as much as she enjoyed creating them.

Book preview

Tales of New Camelot

HIGH SHERIFF

Of

NEW CAMELOT

By

Brenda Gable

Book Seven

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this

ISBN-13: 978-1499741551

ISBN-10: 1499741553

New Camelot Books in Publication

Rogue Prince

Crystal Sorceress

New Camelot’s Thief

Black Sorcerer

Fire Sorceress

Bernard the Bard

High Sheriff

New Camelot’s Lion

New Camelot’s Brewster

Rogue Dragon

New Camelot's Sally the Whore

New Camelot's Fafnir

New Camelot's Bronson

New Camelot's Tarnished Knight

New Camelot’s Dragon’s Breath

New Camelot’s Baker

New Camelot’s Merchant Prince

Kingston Books in Publication

Vindication

Redemption

Retribution

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the enduring love between beloveds. True love may fray at times, but will always remain strong enough to withstand the rigors of time.

Chapter 1

Baroness Stella O’Donnell shivered in the early morning air under her thick woolen cloak while she waited patiently for the current bane of her existence to appear. From her position upon the crenellated ramparts, her violet eyes spied the object of her derision flying out of the keep with a flailing of arms and legs. Screaming like a madman, Sir Howe raced to the stable yard pulling his leather braes up with one hand and clutching his silken tunics to his sunken chest with the other. Without waiting for his squire to roust, the latest noble knight bent on claiming the baronetcy at Sea Breeze Keep galloped away under a three-quarters moon towards New Camelot with his sleeping shirt flapping behind him and the castle hounds braying after in chase.

Lady Stella turned to her companion. Well, that’s the last we’ll see of him, Rose Petal.

The diminutive Flower Fairy dressed in a gauzy pink and white tunic giggled from atop Stella’s shoulder behind a lock of snow-white hair. He rides like he has a fire lit under his arse.

Stella cocked her head. He does, doesn’t he? She muttered under her breath, Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The fairy placed a feather light kiss on Stella’s cheek. "Thank you for saving our flowers.

That beast was going to plow them asunder to make more gold for his purse."

Yes, he was a heartless oaf. The man had no beauty in his soul. He couldn’t see what joy the flowers brought to humans as well as the fey.

We’re glad you’re Sea Breeze’s baroness. For you have an affinity for the flora. You’re our sister at heart.

Well, I can’t deny that I do love to grow things. Tell your king the offer still stands. He can have anything I produce on my lands.

I give you his many thanks. He has truly enjoyed the spirits brewed from your grain. Now that Sir Howe has departed, what are you going to do about Sir Kelly?

Stella turned inward towards the keep. Across the grassy bailey she could see the ghost of Sea Breeze glide towards the stairs leading up to the battlements. With a nonchalant shrug she stated point blank, He wants the land and gold, not me.

But he is a proper chivalric knight; kind to women and children. Why he’s written you a dozen sonnets to your grace and beauty.

Stella snorted. If he were an honest man he would be lauding my winkled face, droopy breasts and saggy bottom.

With a stifling hand clasped over her mouth, the fairy’s shoulders shook with laughter. Regaining her composure the fey woman took wing. The lad approaches. I must go. Farewell, sweet Stella. Before I leave, I must tell you my troupe departs soon to well-wish the baby sorceress and give her our blessings.

Give her mine, too. Stella held up her hand in farewell. May Danu bless you and yours. In a puff of pollen the creature was gone.

Stella’s hand fisted on the battlement. Why wouldn’t the dratted king listen to her? She and Chip were quite capable of running the keep and making it profitable. Hadn’t she paid all her taxes? Hadn’t they had a bumper crop of grain? Weren’t the livestock fat and ready for the winter? Didn’t the king’s agents have eyes in their heads? She released a snort of disdain. Evidently not.

Men! They always thought a woman needed them. Even though his queen could take the eye out of an assassin across a great hall with her dirk, King Wolfrick Asarlaís was no different from the rest of his gender and insisted that Sea Breeze needed a firm hand to guide it—a male’s firm hand, that is.

Little did the king’s tax assessor know, thanks to her special magic, Sea Breeze’s bumper crops were not only large enough to nourish the serfs and set seed aside for next year’s planting; they were also enough to convert into spirits and ale—lots of spirits and ale of which a good bit of it would be sold under the table to the local innkeepers and an enterprising sea merchant at a discounted price. In fact, the last crop had been brewed to perfection and was waiting on the full moon for delivery.

The clanging of chains and ringing of bells herald the arrival of a ghastly apparition. The cause for Sir Howe’s hasty departure raised blood drenched hands and wailed in a voice that cracked and quivered in early puberty as it stopped by Stella’s side. She turned to the specter and laughed. Based on the amount of haste Sir Howe was in, I think it was your best performance.

Chip pulled the painted sheet from his head and grinned from ear-to-ear. His hair, the same harvest gold as his father’s and grandfather’s, was mussed from his theatrics. Willow-green eyes glittered in his excited face. Sir Howe didn’t even bother to take his squire with him. Do you think we should wake Robin up and tell him his master has abandoned him to the evil Banshee of Sea Breeze?

Stella smiled down at her young charge. He’d grown so much this year. He was almost as tall as she was. That wasn’t saying much since she was only five foot and a few inches. She’d stopped growing at age thirteen and now that she was approaching her fiftieth year, the chances of getting any taller were zero. In fact, it wouldn’t be long before she started shrinking, just like Granny Cromarty, and napping by the hearth as she shelled peas. Nay, Chip. Let him sleep. We’ll send him and Sir Howe’s possessions along after a hearty meal in the morning.

She pulled her grandson to her amply rounded figure in a victory hug. Speaking of sleep, there’s a few more hours till the cock crows. Why don’t you go back to bed?

Chip sniffed in disdain. Couldn’t possibly sleep a wink. However, haunting does work up one’s appetite. Are there any apple tarts left? I’m famished.

I’m sure there are. She joined her arm with his. Together they made their way down the steep granite steps of the protective wall, across the bailey and into the heart of the stone keep. Soon she was going to have to broach the subject of fostering him with a knight for training, just as Robin was fostered with Sir Howe. Chip was ten, past the age most boys were sent into training. It would break her heart to see him go, but he was turning into a man right before her eyes. It would be an injustice to deprive him of his heritage and the skills he’d need to protect Sea Breeze from usurpers. One couldn’t always rely upon painted sheets and harness bells to keep avarice hands off the plump estate.

After seeing him off to his room with a full stomach, she resumed her watch atop the outer wall. This was her favorite time of day, the quiet period just before the sun awoke and greeted the world. It was during this time she made plans for the present and reminisced about the past. This keep and the surrounding lands had been in her family since Morgan Le Fey created the magical realm of New Camelot after Mordred defeated a villainous Arthur and a treacherous Merlin. It had been dowered to Niles, her last husband, when she accepted his proposal.

Stella had survived two husbands, a passionate love affair, the Troll Wars and the deaths of her children. Chip was her only surviving grandson and no knock-kneed, weak-chinned pitiful excuse for a knight was going to take Sea Breeze away from him, despite the king’s well-meant intentions.

Lost in thought, Stella walked around the ramparts to face the east. False dawn lightened the night skies with a grey light separating the firmament from the darkness of the ocean lapping in the protective cove at the base of the escarpment Sea Breeze sat atop. She waited in stillness for the sun to crest the horizon while planning the winter garden in her head. In between the turnips and parsnips the sun broke free from its slumber and pierced the sky with slashes of bright pink and red rays mixed in with streamers of gold. The portent was ominous. A storm was brewing out in the deep sea.

* * * * *

Bloody Matthias, fourth son of a heavy-handed sire, quickly became known as the Hanging Sheriff after taking over from his predecessor, Séamus Toleman. Upon the arrival of the Crystal Sorceress, the proliferation of the fey throughout New Camelot resulted in more human exposure to them. Commoners and nobles, prone to distrusting things they didn’t understand, were quick to cry evil and blame their woes on the fey people. He quickly grew irritated at investigating false accusations and acts of stupidity blamed on the fey. While he was out calming the populace, the true villains—the human scum of New Camelot—were having their way.

Getting cranky in his old age, he’d grown an even fouler humor these last months. Arresting lawbreakers, releasing them after a heavy fine, then seeking them out a second, third, nay even until perpetuity had drained his patience. His solution was to execute on the second offense. The technique had run most of the predators out of New Camelot to safer hunting grounds and easier marks among the merchants traveling to the frontier where, if they were unlucky, Prince Darren and feral dragons made quick work of them.

Tonight Matthias was seeking purported murderers in a warm oasis amid the frigid northlands. Holding the voluptuous Sally in a loose embrace on his lap, he buried his troll-scarred face under her long red locks and nuzzled her scented neck. Her fingers caressed a scalp, once thick and golden, that had turned bald and barren.

He was fortunate the whore favored him, for the Squealing Pig was doing a booming business with merchants, freelance knights and local farmers, all seeking to warm themselves from the icy storm that arrived that evening. Sally should have been hustling watered down ale and spirits to the patrons at this crossroads of civilization, but she had chosen to ignore the baleful eye of her master and share her favors with him.

Her breath was hot against his ear. Do you want to go upstairs?

Ten years ago, he’d been willing and raring to ride a colleen like Sally throughout the night. Now, at two and fifty, the warmth of the hearth and the fire of the spirits in his flagon were more appealing than stripping down in an icy room for a few minutes of earthly pleasure between her plump thighs.

His pale green eyes were rueful. Alas, fair Sally, Bronson’s outside freezing his cockles off waiting for my signal. He watched two newcomers elbow their way into the crowed common room. Are those the men that killed Merchant Sylvester?

She turned in his lap and gave a quick glance in the direction of the men that had come in with a blast of frigid air and were making their way up to the bar. The two dressed as huntsmen with the rabbit-skinned cloaks? Aye, they’re the ones that followed the merchant out. Jenny found the poor sot’s body not more than five minutes later when she went to relieve herself.

She wiggled on his lap, searching for something that wasn’t there. A sly knowing grin crossed her face. Why don’t you send Bronson in? Since you’re not up to the occasion, I’ll warm his cockles instead and you can wait in ambush outside.

Ah, Sally. You pain me so. And here I thought you’d love me through thick and thin.

Well, we must be in the thin years for I can find nothing thick.

Releasing a self-disparaging chuckle, he stood up. Saucy wench! Go tell Bronson they’re here.

She held her hand out and waited with expectation. He released a sigh. Business was business regardless of the commodity sold. He’d occupied her time; he’d have to pay. Pulling a silver coin from his money sac, he flipped it to her. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. Maybe the brawl will stir your blood.

Matthias cast her an assured look. This will be an easy arrest. There’s not going to be a brawl. He swatted her behind and watched her sashay her away across the room, evading groping hands with practiced deftness. Pausing, she whisper in one of the fur-clad men’s ear and received another coin. She tucked it into the bodice of her linen kirtle and then whispered again before quickly moving towards the staircase.

The two men’s heads snapped in his direction. Their eyes flew wide in alarmed recognition. He gave an acknowledging smile. Yeah, I am the High Sheriff, here for your murdering arses. Like the rabbits they wore, the men leapt towards the oaken exit portal knocking all aside in their haste to flee. He mused to himself, Guess there’s going to be a brawl after all.

Matthias’s long legs took him over the carnage in their wake. He dove for the trailing man. As the lead murderer yanked the door open to flee, Bronson’s gauntleted fist crashed into his face. The four of them rolled on the thrush covered floor, arms and legs swinging, teeth biting and nails clawing. Not wanting to draw out the brawl and subsequent damage, he and Bronson shoved small powerballs into their quarries’ chests to stun the two suspected murderers.

’Ere now! What are you about, Matthias?! Bertie, the apron bedecked proprietor, waved a stout cudgel over their heads.

Matthias rolled off his captive and pulled his wolf-skinned jerkin open to display the eagle emblem of the sheriff. Official business of the king, Bertie. I got word these two assisted Merchant Sylvester to an early grave.

The wrinkled proprietor squinted at the downed men. Aye, that looks like them that followed Sylvester out. Pity. Sylvester had a mighty powerful thirst.

Getting to his feet, Matthias spat out saliva-tinged blood from where a fist crushed his lip against a canine. Bending over, he patted his victim’s garb searching for his money sac. Finding none, he grabbed the cowl at the man’s nape and hefted him over a broad shoulder. Grumbling to Bronson, he said, I’m getting too damned old for this.

Bronson’s handsome face cleaved into a broad smile, displaying strong white teeth. His sable head lowered as he searched the second villain. Finding some coins, he tossed them to Bertie. For damages.

The young deputy then hefted the prone man up under his arm like a sack of flour. He grinned at Matthias. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You conducted yourself quite spryly for an old man of ancient years.

Matthias stretched out a swatting hand towards Bronson, dislodging the dead weight from his shoulder in the process. The suspect fell on his head and landed in a tangle of arms and legs. In disgust, Matthias reached down and hefted his limp load again. He hid the twinge of pain that zinged through his back with a curse. Damn me! I have to get him to trial alive if I’m going to hang him. Since when did he have aches and pains? When did the thought of getting up and dealing with villains become an onus?

Bronson waggled thick eyebrows. Or you could do what the prince does.

Eh? What’s that?

Kill them and let your dragon eat the evidence of your execution.

Tempting. But I can’t afford to feed a dragon in the down time. Both men chuckled at the quip.

Matthias felt a chill of unease when Bronson’s lighthearted words struck a hidden worry. Common folk and nobles resented and feared the magical power of the fey, and to some extent, the lesser power of the Royals. In the medieval society created by Morgan Le Fey, they were not allowed to technologically nor socially progress beyond the thirteenth century. Whereas, the strongest of the Royals could traverse the time and space continuum and travel to Old Earth’s modern eras for brief periods of time, the lesser folk were destined to live out their lives in a rigid caste society.

When Bethany Regina Maguire was transported from the twenty-first century to New Camelot, her arrival revitalized magic throughout a realm that had been slowly strangling over the past centuries. Unlike other fey and Royals who had to rely on their own magical reserves, as a Crystal Sorceress, Bethany was able to draw from the kinetic power in stones and crystals for an unlimited source of power. Fortunately for all, she was of a sweet and gentle disposition. She used her power to heal those the local medicine women could not. But every time she used her powers, the magic within the fey ranks increased, much to the consternation of the average man.

Rumors had reached his ears of villains disappearing near Dragon Keep in the frontier where she and her prince resided. Most suspected Darren was overzealous in protecting his fey queen. Rightfully so. If harm should come to her from a human hand, all hell would break loose. There would be a war the likes no living mortal had ever seen between humans, the not-so-human, and the definitely-not-human.

He forced a grin. "Give Prince Darren some praise, Bronson. He has the entire frontier to defend