Atlantis On the Shores of Forever: The Antediluvian Chronicles, #1

By Jennifer McKeithen

A princess seeking to balance duty and her tempestuous heart...
A wanderer searching for a purpose...
A soldier destined for glory...
A doomed civilization.

The princess of an exiled kingdom, Gwenwhyfar's marriage was decided at birth. Enter Marcus Duilius, a career soldier with an eye for beauty. Although drawn to his fatal charms, she knows this son of a Roman naval hero will never allow a woman to stand in the way of his ambition. With her husband's untimely death, she discovers a freedom she never imagined possible.

Ready to make her own destiny, Gwenwhyfar finds she must put aside her desires once more and reforge ties with the mighty Atlantis. Mysterious ships have arrived from the east, leaving destruction in their wake. The known world is threatened. To complicate matters, her former Norse bodyguard has suddenly returned to claim her for his own.

Can she uphold her duty, save her world, and still find true love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer McKeithen
• Release date: Sep 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781386026198

Jennifer McKeithen

Jennifer grew up in beautiful south Louisiana. Her earliest memories were in New Orleans. Living in “America's first melting pot” taught her to appreciate culture, cuisine, and music from a young age. Her lifelong fascination with Ancient mythology and Medieval folklore remains another influence on her writing. She and her dashing husband, Japheth, live in Kansas City, Missouri.

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Ψ

...there occurred violent earthquakes and floods; and in a single day and night of misfortune all the warlike men in a body sank into the earth, and the island of Atlantis in like manner disappeared into the depths of the sea.

~ Plato

Prologue

She ran. Deeper, deeper into the mysterious Brocéliande forest she went. Panic surged through her veins, holding her fatigue at bay. She had lost track of how long she had kept up this pace.

Massive tree branches choked out the waning sunlight, casting eerie shadows across the uneven ground. Soon, complete darkness would fall over the forest.

And, her pursuers were gaining.

Where exactly the princess was going, she hadn’t an inkling. She knew only that she must flee. She also knew that if she stopped for but an instant, the warriors trailing behind would surely catch her.

Her bare arms shivered in the misty twilight air. Ferocious boars and wolves were known to roam the forest Brocéliande. If she happened upon one of these beasts, she would find herself defenseless, as she had not had the time to procure any sort of weapon when she bolted into the wood. But was being maimed by a wild animal worse than the fate which drove her to this course of action in the first place?

The world as she knew it was changing. A dark threat from the east loomed on the horizon. Ships of an unknown people raided coastal towns throughout the known lands at random, leaving utter destruction in their wake.

The most experienced of generals couldn’t predict where this nameless enemy would strike next. Rome and Carthage were so moved that they had put aside their bitterness toward each other in order to fortify against this menace. Rumor had it that even the all-powerful Atlantis felt vulnerable.

Pushing aside those thoughts, she pressed on, racing over the boulders and entanglements of roots in her path. Low-lying branches reached out, snatching at her hair, tearing into her linen gown and any exposed skin. Undaunted, she continued.

In light of this uncertainty, her own people, the Breizhian Gauls of Ker-Ys, could no longer continue their tradition of self-sufficiency and isolation. Rome, their nearest neighbor, held more values in common with the Breizhians than any other known people—except one.

But joining with the Euskaldunak, or Vascones, as the Romans called them, was quite impossible. Her grandfather, Alwyn Meur, High King of the Breizhians, had long ago sworn a blood feud against them. That her great-grandmother was herself of the Euskaldunak was of no consequence.

Ahead she saw a brook, but she already knew how she would cross. The autumn rains had held off of late, and the low waterline exposed many boulders. Skipping across would prove a simple matter. And she felt certain the water couldn’t rise higher than her waist at most.

Since alliance with the Euskaldunak was out, it was therefore only logical that her brothers would choose to ally with Rome. To cement this alliance, they arranged a marriage for her to Valens Petronius, a young, though influential Roman senator. Marrying him was the best thing she could ever hope to accomplish for her people.

High above the brook’s ravine existed a plateau, where an ancient archway had endured the ravages of time. If she raised her head, she could see its cornerstone just above the tree line. This was where the first exiles of Atlantis had crowned their rulers. Her people no longer used the place, but she had often played there as a child—once with Petronius, oddly enough.

And yet, the princess couldn’t bring herself to bind her life to his. From an early age, she knew she would marry for love. She would choose her future husband. Her brothers disagreed. So there she found herself, running through the cold, enchanted forest at dusk.

She reached the first boulder. Upon landing, her foot slid over the slippery moss growing on the rocks. Icy water engulfed her body. She found her feet, but it was too late. The warriors had already surrounded her.

Cahan, her younger brother, scolded her first. What did you hope to accomplish by running away? he uttered between breaths. His disappointment in her behavior soon turned to sympathy, though it was clear his resolve would not waver.

I don’t know, she admitted. Tears stung her eyes. Her wet clothes clung to her body, and she began to shiver.

We made an agreement, said her older brother Tierney, sternly. We will not go back on our word.

A lump formed in her throat. How could you do this to me? You’re just going to sell me off to the highest bidder, like I’m some kind of slave instead of your sister?

Tierney’s patience wore thin. "You’ve known all your life that your marriage would be arranged. I stand in the place of our father. You will obey me."

"I will marry the man I choose," she declared, clenching her fists in an effort to stop trembling.

A calm, deep voice interrupted the argument. Excuse me. Valens Petronius approached the water’s edge.

The princess felt her cheeks flush in spite of the cold. She had not expected him to join in the chase.

On the surface, there was nothing inherently wrong with Petronius. He was near her age, tall and handsome, and by all accounts an honorable and capable leader.

They had met ten years previously. The young boy had saved her life at risk to his own when he pulled her out of a rushing stream. She had thrown her arms around his neck in gratitude, and he in turn vowed he would marry her when they grew up.

As the years passed, however, she forgot his avowal. He, obviously, had not. The irony of the situation humiliated her to no end.

There is no honor in forcing a woman to marry against her will, said the Roman. I wasn’t aware she was ignorant of the negotiations. I will have her willingly, or not at all.

The treaty has already been signed, said Tierney. It cannot be broken.

But I don’t love him! She loathed having to reject Petronius in such a cruel manner. Yet after what he had done for her so long ago, she decided it was far better to do so than to give him false hope.

You were born to privilege, Cahan reminded her. You don’t have the luxury of waiting to fall in love. His tone softened. "You know I want your happiness. That’s why we’ve shown you patience up to this point. But you’ve rejected too many of your suitors. It’s time to live up to your responsibilities."

The tears that had formed in her eyes finally spilled down her cheeks. I’m only sixteen.

Petronius nodded thoughtfully. Very well.

All gasped in astonishment. Was he seriously considering the dissolution of the treaty, with the enemy pillaging all around them? It was beyond foolhardiness.

The Roman obtained a sword from one of his guards and stepped into the water. I propose a choice. He gave her the hilt of the sword and held the blade to his neck. My life is yours. Kill me, and you will not have to marry against your will. Felix, he addressed his aide. Prepare a statement: Rome will ally with Ker-Ys, regardless of her actions.

But Senator—

Do it! he ordered.

Felix reluctantly complied.

Petronius turned back to the princess. His tone softened, and he fell to one knee. "Or you can spare my life and marry me. Either way, my lady, your fate is in your own hands. You have the choice."

This is madness! A treaty without blood ties will surely fail!

Ignoring Tierney’s outburst, Petronius calmly awaited her answer.

She stared back at him in utter shock. Her heart pounded harder than it had during her sprint through the forest. Freedom was within her grasp, if she was audacious enough to seize it. Why are you doing this?

Petronius smiled thinly. You probably won’t believe me, but I meant every word I said when I was a boy. Can you imagine my elation when your brothers offered me the chance to marry the girl I’ve always loved?

She searched his face. Could his claim be true? His handsome brown eyes seemed sincere enough. Desire was there, no question. But, there was something else. Was it truly the love he claimed it was?

For the first time, she actually considered what it would mean to marry him. Her face felt hot again, and instead of pounding, her heart fluttered wildly.

In appearance at least, he was everything she could have wanted in a husband: intelligent, dignified, and definitely good-looking. He was also much closer to her age than any of her previous suitors.

You trusted me when we were children, he continued. Trust me now. I promise to do everything in my power to win your heart.

Yet still, she harbored doubts about the veracity of his words. Offering his life was a bold gesture, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he believed there was any real danger of her taking it.

She had to make sure. Pressing the blade to his neck, she made a shallow incision. Though the cut wasn’t deep enough to harm him, it drew a considerable amount of blood.

The others gasped in horror. Petronius did not so much as flinch, but held her gaze as the creek babbled around his form.

She lowered the sword. You’re a wise and valorous man, Valens Petronius.

We Romans are a valorous people, he shrugged, apparently unconcerned by the trickles of blood staining his white tunic. Besides, I’m a senator. I have to be. He did not rise, but awaited her answer.

She looked away. His courage moved her. She still didn’t love him, but to be the wife of a man as lionhearted as he... Was it possible she could learn to love him?

None of her other suitors would have even thought of that scheme, much less gamble their lives on the outcome. Petronius must have wanted her very badly to risk it.

Yes, she decided, he deserved a chance. I will accept you.

Petronius rose at last and gently kissed her cheek.

Cahan rushed forward and embraced them both. You’re certainly a fitting husband for my sister, Petronius! he exclaimed. Well done! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint us.

Tierney remained skeptical, crossing his arms in reserved judgment, though the outcome pleased him.

Petronius removed his outer tunic and wrapped it around her as a ward against the chilly air. They climbed up the bank out of the stream bed. All the while, his eyes never left hers.

You won’t regret this, he whispered, taking her hand. With the other hand, he pressed a rag to his neck.

She returned a weak smile and hoped she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.

Chapter One

T hey’re gaining. They’ll reach us by nightfall.

Finn Stigandr shrugged at his captor’s statement. Looks like I won’t have to face that trial after all.

Lieutenant Kenda Ptah tore his gaze away from the dark raider pursuing them. So it would seem, he snorted. But don’t relax just yet. It’s said they’re cannibals. You may wish you’d stayed with the Romans before this day ends.

Finn shifted, causing his chains to rattle. It doesn’t matter. My life was over some time ago.

Ethnically, the two men hailed from different backgrounds. Finn was the son of Norse immigrants to Atlantis, while Ptah took pride in his ancestral line of Nubian pharaohs. Both men were citizens of the melting pot of peoples that made up the mighty Atlantean civilization.

As things stood, Finn’s future did indeed appear bleak. He had wandered the world for most of his life, making one mistake after another, getting lured into any cause that promised him a purpose. Now, his past had caught up to him.

Worst than any of his political missteps was his latest personal blunder. But he didn’t wish to ponder at length on that one just yet.

Plenty of time for that in prison, he thought grimly.

Ptah glanced back at the raider. This is how it starts.

To his horror, Finn saw a waterspout form on the waves behind them. Before the raider showed up, the sea had been calm, with no sign of bad weather on the horizon.

How...?

They’ve learned to bend nature to their will, Ptah explained. Their science eludes me.

A sickening lump tightened in Finn’s stomach. "Maybe it isn’t science. Reminds me of the kraken legends of my people. The monster drags its body through the water, forming a maelstrom to sink the ships of men, its prey."

Ptah scoffed. No wonder you’ve never made anything of yourself, when you believe in such superstitions. That’s what comes of spending twenty years with ignorant Romans.

The ocean is vast. Science has yet to explain—

The deck of the Atlantean supply barca heaved violently, cutting short Finn’s rebuttal.

A military vessel could possibly have outrun that dark ship. But the more he observed their attacker, the more he wondered if even Ptah’s Nautilus, the flagship of Atlantis’ navy, could outrun such speed.

The noise of the Pelican’s seawater engines whined through the wooden beams under his feet. The captain was pushing her hard. Even so, it didn’t look like they had any chance of escape.

Ptah continued to study their enemy. A galley, with multiple decks of rowers, he mused. Still, they shouldn’t have the power to keep up with our engines.

There’s more to them than what we see on the surface, said Finn.

Ptah huffed, his powerful shoulders tensing beneath his armor. We can agree on that, at least.

The enemy galley loomed closer, its triangular sails casting menacing shadows over the defenseless Pelican. From across the waves, Finn heard the grunting and howling of the slave rowers. The sounds of the drivers’ whips cracking on their backs sent chills down his spine. He held his own back stiff so that no one, especially Ptah, would notice.

Ptah’s dark cheeks tinged with red. At least we know spirits don’t drive their ships. What superstitious nonsense!

His voice remained steady, though Finn knew Ptah had to feel the same terror he felt upon hearing those awful sounds.

Spirits or not, their pursuers would be on board the Pelican soon. Was this how it would end? Finn hoped not. With all he had done wrong, he yearned to do something right for a change.

Give me a chance to fight, he pleaded. I want to die as I have lived—as a warrior, not chained like an animal.

Ptah eyed him suspiciously. He and his prisoner stood the nearly same height. Ptah poised only just taller, though Finn could boast a little more bulk. A struggle between them would come out close. Finn had served Rome as a Senator’s bodyguard before he decided to return home. If he could call Atlantis home, that was. Ptah wasn’t going to underestimate the Norseman’s capabilities.

I promised my captain I’d bring you back to Atlantis to stand trial for your actions. You are a traitor. Bargaining information or not, you deserve to die like an animal.

If our roles were reversed, Finn persisted, wouldn’t you make the same request? You’re going to need every available fighter if there’s any hope of survival.

After a moment, he relented. Alright. But at any sign of treachery, I’ll slit your pale throat myself. Understand?

Finn agreed, and Ptah unlocked the chains. As soon as his hands and feet were free, he lunged at his former captor.

Ptah reached for his knife, cursing aloud his weak, compassionate fool of a self. They landed on the deck with a hard thud.

Finn released Ptah, who only then saw the flaming spear stuck in the plank at their side. The understanding that Finn had saved his life registered on his face.

They scrambled to their feet, right as enemy soldiers leaped onto the deck.

Ptah brandished his sword. I’ll not end up on your roasting spit, you dogs! With that, he plunged into the fray.

Finn followed right behind him. Together, they fought hard into the night.

A crescent moon rose high in the sky, shining her beams down onto the struggle. Finn’s arm grew weary. As he wondered how long he could keep up the defense, a sudden blow from behind pushed his face into the deck. Dazed, he tried to lift his head.

The last thing he saw was the enemy standard ascending the mast of the Pelican.

FINN AWOKE WITH A START. At first, he didn’t know where he was. Then, he remembered. The enemy had captured the Pelican.

Why am I still alive?

He touched the back of