The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

By Kenneth McDonald

The Graves Crew has split up. Without their leader, the men of the crew face what might be their toughest challenge yet: building a road up an almost sheer mountain. The job is hard enough, but something else waits for them atop the mountain, something that doesn’t want the road to make it through. Meanwhile Graves, alone with Keev in the Duke’s capital of Kalvanis, finds that danger also lurks in the heart of the White Order’s power, a hidden enemy that wants to use him to advance its own agenda.

This is the fourth story in the “Graves Crew” series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth McDonald
• Release date: May 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463356692

Kenneth McDonald

I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

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The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

Kenneth McDonald

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: the cover image is adapted from the painting Cathedral Rocks, A Yosemite View by Albert Bierstadt (c.1872). The image is in the public domain.

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Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

The Graves Crew

The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Balance of Power

Soul Weapons

Wizard’s Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard’s Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Dwarf on the Mountain

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm’s War

Grimm’s Loss

Grimm’s Love

Of Blood and Magic

Of Steel and Sorcery

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran’s Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

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Chapter 1

Graves wasn’t technically a prisoner; he just couldn’t leave.

Not that there was much to complain about when it came to the hospitality of the White Order. He had free range through much of the interior of the vast, multi-building complex that everyone called The Round: the library, gardens, guest wing, and the common halls that each could have accommodated every building in Raviston with space to spare. The food at the commissary was excellent, so much so that Graves’s trousers were already feeling a bit tight after just a week. The visitor’s badge that he’d been given was also all the payment he had to provide for any of the services available for the Order’s guests.

There were two places, however, where his badge was ineffective. The first was in the inner ring of structures, the circle within the circle that made up the Round. Only members of the White Order were allowed within that sanctum, unless they had an escort. Graves had been there twice, both visits shortly after his arrival in Kalvanis, but no one from the Order had summoned him in the last four days. It was almost as if they’d forgotten he existed. He might have believed that, if not for the second place where his badge was useless.

That place was the only exit from the Round—or at least the only one he was aware of. The arched majesty of the Lion Gate was big enough to drive two wagons through at the same time, but Graves doubted that even a cockroach could have scuttled through without drawing the attention of the guards who were on duty there at every hour of the day or night. He’d only tried them once, and while the guards had been unfailingly polite, and hadn’t quite blocked him, they’d made it quite clear that they would not permit him to depart without authorization.

So, he’d been left to his own devices, in the most luxurious prison he’d ever had the fortune to visit. He couldn’t see how his continuing presence benefitted the Order. His initial interviews with their representatives had been quite thorough. They seemed to know everything about him, including his encounters with dead men who had risen from their graves in the Dun Hills, the clash with the fish-men at the dam project in the riverlands, and most recently, the battle with a fire-demon that had possessed Barek and nearly burned down the conquered town of Raviston. Thinking on all of the events that had befallen his crew, Graves couldn’t help but be amazed at the odd course that fate had crafted for him. What was even more odd was the demeanor of the Order officials who had interviewed him—a old woman and a younger man maybe half Graves’s age—and their reactions to his tale. Both had acted as though his account was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe for the White Order that was true. Graves had no way of knowing if either of his interlocutors had been mages, but that was the first thing that most people thought of when the name of the Order was invoked.

Magic. Mysterious, rare, and dangerous, beyond the understanding of normal folk. Graves had had more interactions with it than most, and he’d have been quite content not to have any more. Except for one other thing, ostensibly the reason for why he’d come to Kalvanis in the first place.

He’d been allowed to see Keev freely after their arrival. The young member of his crew had been kept in another part of the Guest Wing, but the Order hadn’t made any attempts to keep them apart. That had abruptly changed three days ago, when Keev had been brought into the inner ring.

Golden rays of sunshine drifted down through the huge skylights that topped the Chamber of Owls. Graves hadn’t been able to figure out why it had that name; there were no owls in either the design or décor of the place as far as he could tell. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and sprawling carpets in front of them formed nooks populated with padded armchairs, polished coffee tables, and standing lamps. About a dozen people were seated in those chairs, reading or engaging in quiet conversations. Some of them had badges like the ones Graves wore on a long cord around his neck. He hadn’t made an effort to get to know any of the other guests of the Order, although he was getting to where he could recognize some of them on sight. It wasn’t just that they were different than him. Even without speaking a word he could mark them out from the cut of their clothes, their unblemished skin, their hands lacking old scars and calluses. Graves was a crew leader, the head of a gang of laboring men. They were technically part of the Duke’s army, but at the bottom of that or any hierarchy.

But it wasn’t just that. Most of the men on the crews had developed a sense of smugness at their low status, a realization that because they were at the bottom of the social order they didn’t have to take any shit from anybody. Graves was not shy. But there was something about this place, and more significantly the people who ran it, that encouraged keeping one’s secrets close. From the ways eyes flicked up to him as he passed, curious and wary and warded, he wasn’t the only one who felt it.

He walked down the long central corridor between the carpeted spaces, his footfalls making a soft sound on the marble floor. His destination was at the far end of the hall, where a large open archway was flanked by an armed guard on one side and a tall booth where a young woman sat on the other. There wasn’t anything more overt to indicate its significance, but Graves knew that it marked one of the transitions from the public parts of the Round to the inner circle where only those of the Order were permitted.

The woman looked up as he approached. Can I help you, sir?

Yes, Graves said. I, ah, I was wondering if you could tell me, that is, I’d like to speak to either Keevan Toller or Vice-Lictor Haddin. He hadn’t known Haddin’s title until he’d arrived here, and still didn’t know what it meant. In his week here he’d learned that the White Order had a complicated system of ranks within a hierarchy that put anything he knew about the army to shame.

The young woman consulted her record book, but as was often the case with the servants of the White Order, Graves got the feeling that it was only a perfunctory gesture. After a moment she looked up again, the same plain smile on her face. I’m sorry, sir. Those individuals are not available at the moment. However, I will be happy to pass on a message.

It was nothing he hadn’t heard several times already, almost word for word in each instance. Thanks, Graves said. Just let them know that I came by, please.

Of course.

Graves turned around and headed back the way he came. He thought about what might lie beyond those doors, and what the Order might be doing to Keev. For all that Haddin had convinced him to come to Kalvanis, Graves knew that his young friend was the real reason they were here. For Keev had a secret, one that Graves had spent a long time protecting until that encounter a few weeks ago in Raviston.

As he came to the end of the hall Graves glanced once more down its length, at that guarded archway. He’d come here because he felt it was his obligation to look out for Keev. He’d left behind the rest of his crew to come here. They were probably fine; it would take months, if not years, to finish building the keep they’d been working on when he’d left. Squints would look out for them. They would look out for each other, as they had many times before.

Keev was Graves’s responsibility. But as he stood there, an outsider in this strange place, powerless to even get through the door, he wondered at just what he could do to help him.

* * *

The room was fancy, fancier than anyplace Keev had ever been up until a week ago. The walls were covered in elaborate wood paneling, with a huge fireplace in which a merry flame danced. The marble mantlepiece was carved into scenes of human and animal figures that were so detailed that Keev had to look the other way to avoid being drawn into them with curiosity. The furnishings were