The Jewels of Life

By Robert E. Vardeman and Geo. W. Proctor

Davin Anane has lost his best friend, Goran One-Eye, who returned home to an alternate plane of existence. While happy for his stalwart battle companion, Davin finds life challenging without him. Once the greatest thief in all Raemllyn, his light-fingered talents have waned as he wielded the magical Sword of Kwerin Bloodhawk to defeat a tyrant.

But his services are no longer required as soldier and savior. Raemllyn is at peace with his half-brother on the throne. Worse, Davin's rusty skills at thievery are subverted for an evil purpose. The Jewels of Life can give incredible power—he wants them. But Davin pursues this quest fraught with danger, duplicity and deception, until...

...he finds an unexpected, comely companion willing—oh so willing!--to aid him. Davin discovers mere friendship might be overrated when he finds a new partner and true love.

The final adventure begins!

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Cenotaph Corporation
• Release date: Apr 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370236435

Book preview

As if possessing the sense of smell, the pulsating lumps slithered forward toward the Jyotian. No matter how he turned or tried to dodge the creeping masses of ooze, they unerringly followed his movements.

Davin's gaze darted about the corridor in a desperate search for table or chair. There was no furniture on which he might vault to escape. He jumped to one side, then the other. Rather than confusing the flowing blobs, the slime oozed together when they touched and formed a larger mass.

The pulsing globs stretched across the hall now as though they herded him toward the main entryway. At least that was the way it appeared until the ends of that line arched forward in an attempt to encircle the,thief.

Davin drew his sword and poked at the nearest blob. Rather than injure it, the sword was simply subsumed. The tip disappeared into the heaving body and when Davin drew his weapon back was astounded to find the steel had been eaten away. The Jyotian leaped back as the gray blob surged up the length of polished metal toward his hand. He dropped the sword. A sucking noise marked the complete dissolution of his weapon a moment before the oozing monster once again advanced on him.

The Jewels of Life

Swords of Raemllyn #9

By

Robert E. Vardeman & Geo. W. Proctor

Swords of Raemllyn Series

To Demons Bound

A Yoke of Magic

Blood Fountain

Death's Acolyte

Beasts of the Mist

For Crown and Kingdom

Blade of the Conqueror

Tombs of A'bre

The Jewels of Life

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Sample chapter The Jewels of Life

Author Biographies

The Jewels of Life

By

Robert E. Vardeman & Geo. W. Proctor

Chapter 1

Davin Anane pulled a threadbare brown cloak about his broad shoulders and hunched over in an attempt to appear insignificant while he adjusted the thick padding beneath the faded cloth. In a sluggish shuffle, the soles of his boots scraping noisily over the cobblestones, the Jyotian thief edged through the main bazaar in Gatinah. His keen gray eyes darted about even though his head hung down and bobbed erratically from side to side like an unfortunate beset with palsy. Occasionally, he lifted fist to mouth and coughed loudly or cleared his throat as if preparing to hawk a gob of phlegm to the ground.

Across the market two of Lord Hormachi's elite guard, resplendently arrogant in their crimson and azure uniforms and dangling swords sheathed in golden scabbards, strolled among merchants selling breads still steaming from the oven and sausages sizzling atop charcoal-fired grills. Should any of the savory aromas tantalize the soldiers' nostrils, they openly sampled the feast spread about them without leaving so much as a single brass coin before striding toward a brewmaster's table to wash down the tasty tidbits with an equally free draft from that merchant's wares.

Davin Anane concealed an amused smile behind fist and cough. Lord Hormachi's guards were as reliable as the rising and setting of Raemllyn's sun. No matter the time of day, the soldiers never failed to route their patrols of the bazaar through the tables laden with foodstuffs. A wise thief confined his activities to the remaining areas of the vast, open market.

With equal wisdom, the son of Jyotis did not underestimate the predictable guards. During his four months in Gatinah such caution had kept him beyond the grasp of the overbearing authorities and their decided tendency to throw freelance thieves into the lower levels of the dungeons, seldom releasing their prisoners, and if they did, always minus vital body parts. Nor were the guards particular about which parts they sliced from a man. The Brotherhood of Pliaton paid well for, and demanded, such harsh treatment of those who transgressed the rules of their society.

Davin spat to the ground, bile rising within him at the mere thought of the Brotherhood. Organized unions of thieves were not unheard of in Raemllyn's cities, nor was the practice of liberally bribing local officials to assure that the wheels of illicit commerce were greased and rolled onward with no more than an occasional squeak. The Brotherhood of Pliaton spread tentacles far more insidious than a mere guild of thieves.

Pliaton, God of Thieves, normally gathered prayers and tribute from those who whispered his name under their breaths. In Gatinah, Pliaton was worshipped openly by those who trod on each side of the law. Not thieves but priests ruled the Brotherhood, presiding over the rituals they performed within their great marble-columned temple. The merchant who gave generously to the temple's coffers found that thieves shied clear of his business ventures. Those who did not quickly discovered that thievery fell on them like a plague.

To assure the generosity of Gatinah merchants when the offering plate was passed, the priests kept thieves not aligned with the Brotherhood outside the city walls. The perfect henchmen to deliver the Brotherhood's bloody form of justice were city guardsmen whose palms were spread with silver and gold. Simplicity from axle to gear, the priests had constructed a machine equal in strength to those that rolled across the fields of battle. Merchants either tithed regularly or were beset by a series of insoluble thefts; freelance thieves either embraced the way of the Brotherhood or never saw light again, lost for ever in Gatinah's deep dungeons.

Davin admitted that he had rarely encountered thieves so strongly organized, even in the Upper Raemllyn city of Bistonia where thieves ruled a kingdom constructed in the sewers beneath the city's streets. At the same time, the Jyotian also admitted the challenge Gatinah presented had kept him within the coastal city for four long months. Gatinah afforded the perfect arena to hone the fine art of thievery.

Or, as it was for the Jyotis-born Davin Anane, to relearn the intricacies of his chosen profession. After a year spent in the fight to return his half-brother Felrad to his rightful place on the throne of Raemllyn's High King, Davin knew the edge to his skills had dulled, becoming nicked and pitted from disuse.

With the clarity of hindsight, he now saw how those once finely whetted abilities had slipped away. With their minds focused on returning Felrad to the throne, he and his former companion, Goran One-Eye, a changeling from another realm of existence, had bungled theft after theft, nearly costing themselves their lives time and time again. Luck more than ability had seen them through one misadventure after another. A year and a half ago Davin openly called himself the master thief of all Raemllyn. This had not been a mere braggart's claim. Now he carefully trained himself to reclaim that title.

Nor was there a better instructor, Davin thought as he shambled toward a merchant sporting a rounded belly heralding his prosperity, than the presence of constant danger. Nothing honed a man's senses more nor sharpened his skills, than the possibility of forfeiting one's life should the slightest mistake be made. And nothing was sweeter than snatching a sparkling treasure from beneath the very nose of Black Qar, the God of Death.

So it was, to practice the quick fingers of a pickpocket and the sleight of wrist of a cutpurse, Davin Anane came to Gatinah's bazaar, selected a target and bumped into the gaudily dressed merchant, sending the man reeling.

Swine. Get away from me, you piece of filth! The merchant recovered his balance and spat his anger at the brown-clad beggar.

Davin bowed and backed away muttering apologies. Sorry, Master, sorry, so sorry. I am an awkward pig unworthy of your spittle.

To the untrained eye, so busy was the Jyotian in making obeisance that he clumsily backed into another merchant, knocking an armload of goods to the cobblestones. In truth, Davin's movement was a perfectly timed ballet of thievery.

Sorry, so sorry. I did not see! Davin bent double as the second merchant used a small quirt to smite him repeatedly on his shoulders. He winced but felt nothing as the heavy padding beneath the worn brown cloak absorbed each blow. With just the right touch of awkwardness, Davin bent to help the man retrieve he bolts of gold thread-chased cloth spilled onto the ground. The toes of his boots sent three skittering over the dirty cobblestones.

Leave me, leave me be, oaf! the merchant shouted, ire rising. He raised the short leather whip and lashed at Davin's face.

The Jyotian thief dodged artfully, taking the blow on an upraised arm. Real pain brought a wince to his face this time. The quirt's bite would leave a nasty welt on his forearm. Biting back his own anger, Davin silently thanked whichever of Raemllyn's gods had given him the foresight to leave his weapons behind today. Had he worn sword or dirk, he would have opened the merchant's throat from ear to ear. Thief though he was, Davin Anane was also royal born, albeit a bastard son of the now dead High King Bedrich, and it sorely tried his patience to endure the merchant's blow.

Leave or I summon the guard! You fool! The merchant turned red in the face from his ranting, then bent to pick up the merchandise knocked from his arms.

Davin cast a hasty glance across the marketplace and saw the guardsman paid no attention to the little drama he authored. Again hiding a smile with fist and cough, he scuttled away, maintaining his bent posture every step of the way. Only when he found a narrow alley far removed from the crush of Gatinahese citizens did he straighten to his full height. Shrugging precipitated a minor torrent of coins to shower from under his voluminous cloak.

Rubbing his left forearm, he knelt to examine the rewards of a day's hard labor. A pleased smile lifted the corners of his mouth. The treasures scattered about his feet lessened his arm's stinging and dulled the edge of the insult of being spat at.

Nice, very nice! he evaluated the two long golden chains of a single necklace he lifted from the ground.

Taken from the round-bellied merchant, the chains were an unexpected prize. The gleaming gold provided value enough for the risks he had taken, but the small Norggstones mounted in the intricate braiding offered the real prize among those metallic strands.

Davin's smile grew when he touched one milky white, opalescent stone mined in the frigid northern province of Norgg. Although valued throughout the realms of Raemllyn, Norggstone with its warm inner light was particularly revered here along the southernmost coast of Lower Raemllyn where even the smallest samples of the gem were difficult to obtain.

A rootless sigh escaped the Jyotian's lips when he traced a fingertip down the chains. The stones' interior light evoked a peculiar mingling of exaltation and melancholy within his breast. It was as though he triumphed in the greatest undertaking of his life and, at the precise moment of victory, found himself struck by the cruel realization his endeavor was hollow, devoid of meaning.

Davin shook off the curious sensations and shoved the necklace into a leather pouch hung from his belt. The necklace was beautiful and the emotions generated by the stones proved interesting, but not as valuable or interesting as the gold coins to be gained when he sold the delicate strands.

His nimble fingers snared coin after golden coin he had taken from unsuspecting shoppers in the marketplace. Two small coins he threw away; they were counterfeit.

There is no respect for law any more, he said aloud with a sad shake of his head. Too many think to make a quick fortune illegally.

Davin feared the recent flood of counterfeit coins appearing in the city was a weather vane to stormy political times within the Gatinah city-state. Whether external or internal, he sensed an unseen force building to undermine and topple Gatinah's economy—and with it Lord Hormachi's rule. He made a mental note to convert the cache of local coins he had safely hidden away to golden bists or other equally stable tender. He then amended the thought by adding the very real possibility of leaving Gatinah soon. A city afire with revolution was no place for a thief trying to earn a living.

Now, for what the last merchant offered so generously. Davin stood and performed a little hopping dance from foot to foot that shook free two bolts of the luxurious cloth from beneath his cloak.

He leaned both against a wall and ran his hand over the dense weave, nodding in appreciation. The risk in pilfering such bulky items had been great, but when opportunity knocked, only a fool left the door bolted.

The Jyotian smiled at the wit of his mental pun, then grinned with satisfaction. Once again he proved himself equal to the challenge. Stealing under the watchful eyes of Lord Hormachi's guard and two angry merchants, strengthened his bid to regain the title as best thief in either Upper or Lower Raemllyn.

The overwhelming sensations of triumph and melancholy flooded back into Davin's breast with such a heavy weight that he sank to the ground and leaned against the cold brick wall. Another sigh slipped from his lips.

The best thief in all Raemllyn echoed in his mind, taunting him. Six months earlier, he had been half of the best pair of thieves in Raemllyn.

What had appeared moments ago now revealed itself to be a tangle of memories wedged into every nook and cranny of the thief's brain. They all pointed to one simple fact—he missed Goran One-Eye. As often as the young son of the House of Anane had avoided admitting that fact to himself, he missed the Challing he had come to think of as a brother over the years spent adventuring across Raemllyn. Now, here in a cold, dank Gatinah alley, it seemed as if the Challing had been gone for years rather than only months.

Silently, Davin wished his friend the riches of a good life and the hope that Goran's return to his homeworld of Gohwohn had been all he had yearned for during his years of imprisonment in human form within the realms of mankind.

Over the past months Davin had proven that he had not come to rely on the abilities of the red-bearded giant with his single good eye lit with green witchfire to carry a lion's share of their adventuring. Alone, the Jyotian had proven there was a fortune to be made with quick fingers and quicker mind. His fingers and mind. In truth, he admitted, he had sidestepped danger and eluded death with a greater ease than when the changeling traveled at his side.

Yet, the bond of brotherhood forged between man and Challing was missing. The brilliance of a daring theft lost its gleam when there was no one with whom to share the thrill of adventure. And how could he revel in triumph when the slip of a phrase to the wrong ear could result in the loss of his head?

Glylina ...

Davin felt an uneasy squirming within himself when Goran's feminine persona edged into his thoughts. The feelings the beautiful redhead stirred within him were far from comforting. Seeing Goran-Glylina in a Challing's natural body in A'bre had driven home that a Challing was not merely a human with shape-shifting ability but a being from another world.

Nor could he forget the passionate kiss Glylina had left him with before she stepped through the dimensional gate to return to Gohwohn. That kiss had awakened the desires of a man for woman. In that lay Davin's uneasiness. He found it impossible to resolve the fires Glylina had sparked with the bond of brotherhood he felt for Goran.

Nor is there need for resolution, Davin thought as he pushed to his feet. Goran—Glylina is gone. He tried to edge aside the sadness that came with the realization he would never see the Challing again in this lifetime, whether it be in the form of Goran One-Eye or Glylina.

Davin hefted the heavy rolls of cloth and tucked them beneath the brown cloak again. There was nothing to be gained in reminiscence when he had treasures to convert to gold. Besides, when night finally arrived even greater prizes awaited!

Chapter 2

Davin Anane rapped the heavy door three times with his bare knuckles, waited a heartbeat, then knocked four more times.

From inside came muffled sounds as if a giant rat scurried from its lair, frightened by the unexpected noise. The scratching of claw on wooden floor transformed to the distinctive shuffle of nearing boot soles. A bolt disguised as a massive brass screw in the top of the door's three immense hinges vanished inward. A bloodshot eye blinked on the other side of the revealed hole.

Davin threw back the hood of his cloak and let Fole, the owner of that peering eye, study him. The bolt head grated back into place, followed seconds later by the metallic clank of the locking bar retracting. The door opened on surprisingly quiet, well-oiled hinges. Davin slipped into a cool darkness that wrapped around him like a spring night.

What excrement do you bring to defile my home this time? a high-pitched voice with the edge of a razor in it demanded.

A hand more skeletal than human reached out to touch the cloth Jyotian proffered in reply. Davin's gaze followed the angular bend of a bony arm to a body that appeared to be no more than a skeleton with dry, pale skin stretched tautly over it. Fole's eyes blinked from deep within their sunken sockets and the man gave his gourd-shaped head a disdainful shake.

This? Do I look like a tailor? Can I burn it to stay warm?

The winter comes early, even for this southern clime, Davin admitted with a nod, but consider how royal you would feel wrapped in such fine cloth. Gold thread works its way through the fabric at every point.

It is always winter in Gatinah. This is land's end! A man freezes whether he's wrapped in gold or not. Cold, always cold. Fole gave another dubious shake of his head, but his fingertips remained on the bolt Davin held out.

Fifty bists, Davin flatly announced his price. Such fine cloth would fetch ten times that, even sold back to the merchant from whom it was filched, but the Jyotian had no time to haggle and sensed Fole was in no mood to argue over the price.

Forty.

Fifty. Davin stood firm, irritated that Fole would even consider trying to chisel away at the price. There was no time to waste on pettiness. Tonight he would reclaim the title of Raemllyn's master thief. All the exploits of his lifetime would stand in the shadow of the coming night. When he finally bade farewell to Gatinah, he would leave its citizens with a tale of daring to retell for generations.

Done. Fole lifted the bolts from Davin's hands, set them aside on a table. Anything else?

Davin dangled the twin-strand, braided gold necklace under Fole's thin nose.

A jaded dealer in stolen goods Fole might have been, but he could not hide his reaction. His nostrils flared, and he caught his breath. Norggstones—no other jewel glows with such fine light and delicate warmth.

A palsied, thin hand reached out to brush lightly over the luminescent gems. Davin allowed only a fleeting touch, then yanked the necklace away. From the