Children of the Keeper, Book 2 of The Cursed Ground

By A. Roy King

Temper and her brother, Victor, serve as captains on the Keeper's Guard, the rough-and-tumble security squad that patrols the city ruled by her grandfather, the Keeper of Wit.

Today just isn't her day.

As soon as she comes on duty, Temper chases a thief through the filthy alleys of the city, only to fall on her face in the mud as the criminal escapes. Then somebody pelts her with sheep's dung at the marketplace. And on top of that, she has to confront a band of hecklers harassing a harmless troupe of entertainers in the city center. Maybe such struggles are to be expected among the unruly Borne, a rebellious race long ostracized from the rest of the human family.

But darker conflicts are stirring in the city of Wit. Power-hungry conspirators are plotting to wrest the city away from the family of the Keeper, goaded on by his ancient enemy, the Plainspeaker.

As if that weren't enough, Temper and her fellow patrollers discover that outsiders from the enemy race of the Put have entered the city and are promoting their religion: The ancient fellowship known as Friends of the Becomer. And, surprisingly, some of the Borne are listening to these foreign fanatics.

Temper is an expert at chasing criminals, at stick-fighting, and at breaking heads, but place too many conflicts in front of a hothead like her, and trouble is bound to erupt.

"The Cursed Ground" historical-fantasy saga brings to life a long-gone era when humans lived for hundreds of years and all spoke the same language. This series tells the story of a group of defenders who struggle to protect their communities from the growing violence in the world around them. Meanwhile, a small brotherhood is charged with carrying an unpopular message to humankind: The Creator has declared that this violent world will soon come to an end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Roy King
• Release date: Jun 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9780986276415

A. Roy King

A. Roy King is an author living in Raleigh, North Carolina, U.S.A. He is writing an historical fiction series called "Edhai," set in ancient times and based on Biblical settings. The first novel in the series is called "The Cursed Ground."

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Children of the Keeper

By A. Roy King

The Cursed Ground, Book 2

Copyright 2015 A. Roy King

Distributed by Smashwords

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By A. Roy King

Edhai historical series

The Cursed Ground

+ Book 1: The Child-Stealers

+ Book 2: Children of the Keeper

Martyroi historical series under development

For updates on these series

and other writings by A. Roy King:

+ Please visit http://www.aroyking.com

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at http://eepurl.com/2U3Uf

Contents

Map for The Cursed Ground

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

About A. Roy King

Connect With A. Roy King

Map for The Cursed Ground

Chapter 1

Year of Mankind 1580

City of Wit

A woman's shriek pierced the morning air.

Temper's head jerked up at the sound. She and her brother Victor halted, and the seven other Keeper's Guards stopped behind them. The patrol had nearly reached the end of the Great Bridge, where it gave out onto the Market Street.

Angry shouts rang out from a cluster of women and children only a hundred cubits ahead on the cobbled street leading into the center of West Wit. On either side of the street stood trade establishments and storehouses, some of them solid rammed-earth brick buildings, some lighter booths of woven branches, some mere flimsy stalls sheltered by plant-fiber tent roofs.

Temper caught sight of a small, thin figure speeding away from the women, clutching a sack to its chest. Before the dark-clad thief dodged off to the right between two buildings, she spotted silvery hair streaming behind from under a gray cap pulled down low. Just as the thief vanished, Temper glimpsed a flash of light blue amongst the hair.

Snatcher! Temper yelled, then gripped her staff and launched herself after the fleeing figure.

Temper, stop! Let Staunch take the chase! Victor shouted, but she ignored him and shot past the shouting group of women. A furious voice cried something about all of my trading spices! One of the children started wailing.

Temper ran to the spot where the snatcher had ducked into a narrow alley that snaked between buildings and huts. A figure darted away down the alley. Stop, by order of the Keeper! Come back here! Temper shouted. The thief glanced back, face pale in the shadows, but kept on running. The booted feet of the patrol pounded the street behind her, but if she were to catch the fugitive she had no time for delay. Guts and offal! She charged down the alley, gripping her staff. Mud sucked at her boots.

The fleeing thief rounded a corner, but when Temper reached the corner, all was quiet. She stood for a moment and peered ahead, listening. The morning sun still lingered low in the sky, and the close, narrow passageway lay in shadows, but she made out a cluster of barrels, boxes, and baskets stacked against the outside wall of a brick building.

Temper calmed herself, slowing her heartbeat and breath, as her trainer, Staunch, had taught her. Treading slowly and quietly, she approached the carelessly stacked pile. She thought she heard a light breath coming from the other side. A loud cry startled her, and a wooden box, shoved from behind, flew from the top of the pile at her face. Temper deflected the flying box with her staff, but it glanced off the side of her head. Though softened by her leather helmet, pain lanced her temple.

A figure fled from the other side of the pile, feet squelching in the mud. Temper vaulted over the containers, but her foot caught on something, and she went down in the mud in a heap.

She scrambled to her feet, then heard a sound behind her and turned, brandishing her staff. Someone leaped the stack of containers and came down next to her—Staunch. Two other men from the patrol followed.

Come on! she cried. After him! She turned to give chase again, but Staunch took her firmly by the shoulder.

Give it up, Mistress, he said in his low gravelly voice.

We can't let him get away!

But Staunch took her by the other shoulder as well and held her tighter.

Give it up, child. The thief is gone. Far away by now.

Temper wrenched away from his grasp. Oh, rot! She swung her staff at a basket sitting on a barrel and sent it flying. He stole from that good citizen! It infuriates me to let such a one get away!

Come, child. Your brother and the patrol are waiting for us back at the street. This city will give rise to enough trouble today, too much to squander more energy chasing this one little snatcher. You've accounted well for yourself in this pursuit, although you should have waited for a backer. Suppose the thief had had compatriots lurking in this warren of alleyways?

I would gladly take them all on, those flea-crawling rats! Such ones are a plague on this city!

Staunch smiled. That you would, little one, that you would. But now, let's take you to the water station and get you cleaned up.

Temper looked down at herself. Muck covered her shiny leather armor. Oh, all right, let's get out of here. She shouldered past the two guardsmen, who stifled smiles. She gritted her teeth and stalked away.

They emerged from the alley into the daylight. Victor stood in the midst of the group of women, interviewing them. Temper rolled her eyes. The women had recovered from their outrage and distress over the robbery, and now smiled at Victor, cooing at him the way women always did, flattered by the attentions of a son of the Keeper. One of the women held a fussing baby in her arms, but the other children, three of them, had quieted and gawked up at Victor in wonder.

Temper ignored her brother and his fluttering admirers, and stalked up the street to the next public water station. Staunch and the two Guard members trailed behind her.

An elevated cistern stood at the corner of the Market Street and a side road. An aqueduct and a network of hollowwood conduits fed the public tanks from a lake up in the hills. One of the guards held the pull rope down, and water streamed from the spout at the base of the cistern. Temper stood under the stream and washed off the mud of the alleyway, cursing the city's selfish, greedy, thieving vermin class that just seemed to grow every month and become even bolder.

She shook herself off and turned to find Victor smiling at her. Finished impressing your admirers? she snapped.

Her brother's grin grew broader. I assured them the Keeper's patrol would do all it could to apprehend the thief. In the meantime, the victim's friends all loaned her trading goods so she can do her shopping. All of them are wives and daughters of prosperous traders, so they won't suffer.

Well, I'm glad to hear it, Temper said. But it's not only the prosperous who get robbed in this city. The weasels also steal from poor tradesworkers and widows, and it's getting worse all the time.

For that reason, Grandfather established these patrols. And he says he's going to have to add more teams.

Really? That could mean more patrol duties for us, then?

Victor smiled. You would like that just fine, wouldn't you? The city is crawling with troublemakers, but all you want is more opportunities to break heads.

A corner of Temper's mouth pulled back in a half-grin. I haven't broken any heads yet today, I guess.

Did you get a look at the snatcher? Victor asked.

Small and thin.

A child, then?

Most likely. Silvery hair.

Victor grimaced. Doesn't tell us much. Many of the Borne had silver hair, and especially here on the west side of the river. Temper and Victor themselves had hair streaked both black and silver. Staunch tells me you gave a good account of yourself in that alleyway.

Temper sighed. If tripping and sprawling in the mud is a successful pursuit.

Your reflexes are quick, little sister, and you're fast. Pursuit is crucial in this patrol work. We won't catch them all, but we have to try.

She felt a pleasing warmth at her brother's praise. His easy good humor usually brought her around from her rages and funks. She smiled. Well, the day has only begun. Perhaps a little later I will recover some of my dignity.

Chapter 2

Staunch arrived at the cistern, bringing with him the neighborhood overseer, a short, pudgy man of about a hundred, named Stark. Stark's down-turned face showed that he was aggrieved to be dragged into the thievery incident. Temper distrusted anyone who had enough extra resources to grow fat. She left it to Victor to report to the overseer about the snatch-theft.

Stark shook his head sorrowfully, his head down so his bulbous chin ballooned out from his neck. Temper looked away.

Such a shame, Stark said in a high, whiny voice. I am so sorry to hear of this happening again in our neighborhood. So much of this thievery nowadays! But what can be done?

The Keeper will add more patrols, Citizen, said Victor, but you can accomplish much by warning your residents to be alert and report anything worrisome to you.

Oh, yes, certainly. Our neighborhood council meets tomorrow night, and I will bring up that very concern. Such a shame, such a shame.

Temper sighed. This silly incompetent would go on and on like this. Brother, the marketplace grows crowded, she hinted.

Yes, you are right. We must be on our way.

Before they left, though,