Lady Victorius

By Stacy A. Wright

Lady Victorius, a strong, beautiful, leader, who after the death of her husband, is willing to live out her life caring for her daughter, Zoe. What Victorius doesnt know is she must face an unknown destiny, that like her mother, she must embrace to save the world.

Lord Devare, a confident, brash, and sometimes arrogant warrior, who is also known to be a caring and giving man. He has shunned his past and learned to live for the day, by the day. But life is about to change for Devare also. He too shares the same destiny as Victorius, but it is unknown to him as well.

These two people have four days to meet, survive the battles of the war for Earth, and fall in love. Together, they must learn what their roles are in this destiny, and how to save the world. Many will join and fight for their crusade, and many will be lost. All of this to save humanity and keep the realm of Earth free of the Devastators reign.

What is the ultimate sacrifice to save the world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 3, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452098357

Stacy A. Wright

Well, here it is, for all of you waiting for the next chapter. I must admit that I love the way my growing fan base is embracing my characters and stories. To those followers, you are my inspiration and drive to produce the best books possible. Until the next book, The Crimson Tempest, welcome to the frontline.

Book preview

© 2010 Stacy A. Wright. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 12/14/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9834-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9835-7 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9833-3 (dj)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010916432

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prelude

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

It was written a long time ago, that the Devastator shall never be allowed to walk the face of this Earth. If the darkest of Lords is given reign over this domain, the lands of our world will forever be shadowed in darkness.

Queen Bonna Min

image#1.tif

This tale is dedicated to my loving wife, Vicki; you are my world, my love, and my life. It was truly destiny, and tricks of fate that brought us together. You are my Lady Victorius. And to my children, Austin, Dallas, Zoe, and Cami, who all love the worlds of fantasy, this is for you.

In memory of William Henry Shepherd

August 11, 1935 – November 6, 2010

When I felt alone and against the world, you were there to believe in me, to give me the guidance, and courage needed to face my trials and tribulations. I loved you like a father, and proudly called you my dearest friend. I, and my family, will truly miss you.

Gather around children, and I will tell you a wondrous tale of legend and lore. A long, long time ago, a Princess and a gallant Knight fell deeply in love. This was forbidden between their clans, but the Knight soon proved himself, time and time again that he was worthy of the Princess’ hand. Even though their love affair was brief, they did have a daughter. Her name was Victorius, and this is her tale.

Victorius was raised by her father, Arencius. No one ever knew the story of what happened to her mother, and no one ever pressed the issue. The young girl Victorius was already five years old; by the time her and her father took up residence in Coventry Hall. It was by order of King Dragaen himself that Arencius was to take the position of High General, of the King’s Royal Guard. The rumor was that Arencius single handedly fought off an entire Boreknocke patrol by himself, to defend a King that everyone believed he had no allegiance to at all, he did. Dragaen found this to be so noble that he personally named Arencius General of the Guard, or so the story goes.

Victorius grew up in the palace keeping the company of royalty, mainly the King’s eldest son, Graeson. The two fell in love and were married by the King himself. They were the future King and Queen of Coventry Hall.

Soon afterwards, the Good King died from a mysterious illness. It was a sad day in the lands, to be sure. King Draegon was loved by all for being a just and good ruler. Some suspected the younger son Daenon of evil treachery. Daenon’s defense against the accusations was that by killing his father would only perpetuate the rightful succession of his elder brother to the throne, and not himself.

There was a darkness that was beginning to settle over the lands. King Graeson was leading his army into battle with General Arencius more times than not. They were trying to halt the attacks of vicious Boreknocke troops who are attempting to invade his lands, and attack his people, once and for all. In fact, Victorius was giving birth to their daughter the last time Graeson went off to war. It was his last time, because he never returned. Victorius’ father was also killed defending Graeson to the end, adding to the sadness in her heart.

With the loss of his brother, Prince Daenon declared himself Heir to the throne and crown with a heavy heart, of course. He had the laws of their ancestry on his side, forcing Victorius to renounce her crown and move out of the castle. Her daughter, however, was still of royal blood and in good favor with the people. For that, Daenon granted Victorius and his niece a farm just outside the castle walls. It was far enough from the castle for Victorius, but it was close enough for Daenon to keep an eye on her. Here, on the lands of Coventry Hall she will live out her life caring for her precious Zoe.

Lady Victorius

Written and Illustrated Stacy A. Wright

Edited by Paul Rabideau and Pat Shaw

Prelude

The moonlight was shining bright on the wooded meadow. The sounds of the night call out as two chubby little imps move through the trees, searching the grounds for their prize. A hoot owl sits above them, more than willing to give his contribution to the symphony playing in the meadow, as a band of crickets join in to offer a chorus of strings. The oldest imp looks up and gestures at the owl, unappreciative of his mocking song. Winter was moving into the region making the air crisp and still, just laying against their skin. That is, until a gentle breeze picks up causing those two chubby little imps to shiver as they moved faster through the ground fog. I’m telling you Tryn, Master Mynan is keeping things from us, again. I saw visions of wars. I saw visions of dragons and fiery birds of prey.

That maybe true, but Master Mynan doesn’t always tell us everything. He only tells us what we need to know. Isn’t that right, brother?

Yes, but I’m telling you, there is something about to happen. I fear that it is something that will have bearing on us all. With that, the older brother Tryne stumps his bulbous big toe on a stone protruding from the ground. He hops around on one foot while holding the injured appendage with both hands. I can’t believe the Master sent us out on a night like this! How are we supposed to find the star weed when we can’t even see it? Tryne spins around and then falls on his butt. Without any consideration, he shoves the swelling toe into his mouth hoping to comfort it, or at least himself.

I can’t even see you brother. Tryn chimes in. He is always more the easier going of the two, but mainly because he is more the dim witted of the two. This tends to keep him out of mischief, unlike his brother, but it also blinds him to the perils of life as well. He picks a night flower and buries his nose into the pedals. A mistake he soon learns, stirring an insect within the flower. He leans his head back and blows the bug from his nostril and then he lets fly a sneeze.

A pair of evil eyes watches the antics of the two imps stumbling around in the fog. Its movements are that of a predator stalking its prey. Closer it moves gaining the perfect vantage point for the strike. The little demon rubs its bulbous belly remembering the last time it had fed. Its actions had gone unnoticed until the sound of its drool splashing on the ground is heard. Tryne raises his head into the air. He senses the dark presence but it is too late. Run Tryn, run for your life! Warn Mynan, should I not return! Tryne throws his collection of supplies to the ground and rushes into the woods away from his brother’s last location.

Without hesitation Tryn follows his brother’s instructions running as fast as he can, forgetting he can fly as he usually does. In the distance, he could hear the snarls of the demon that pursued his brother, and the screams of Tryne as the dark beast drew first blood. So distracted by his fear, Tryn doesn’t see the hunter’s net descending on him until it is too late. Snatched up and whisked away, Tryn was now at the mercy of his captor. The hunter pays no mind to the commotion taking place not too far away. To him they were the sounds of a beast and its prey, giving him no cause for alarm. He whistles for his dog to follow him and heads out of the woods. The dog, who was growling at the sounds coming from the dark trees barks once to state his distaste, and then hurries off to find its master.

Tryne claws at the ground trying to pull himself away from the demon as it feasts on Tryne’s severed leg. Bleeding heavily from his mortal wound, he hopes that the end will come soon and not too painful. This was his karma coming back on him. Tryne was a snoop of sorts. He was so bored with his own existence that he would eavesdrop on the thoughts of others, especially those who had power over him. No, no, do not leave. One little leg is not enough. The demon reaches out with its exaggerated long arm and pins Tryne’s other leg to the ground with one clawed finger. Its movement toys with its prey as it slinks over closer prolonging the inevitable. The demon plucks off one of Tryne’s wings to use as a toothpick. It runs its long pointed tongue around the rim of its mouth, trying to relish the flavor as much as possible before continuing with its feasting. If it is unable to catch the other one, there’s no telling when it will have another such tasty meal. Know your devourer, Imp. I am Krog, first demon of Lord Doomsayer. With that, Krog leans in and offs Tryne’s head with one swift bite. The night demon begins to convulse and shake as its weak mind absorbs the thoughts and memories of the now dead imp. Once Krog comes out of his stupor, he finishes the rest of the dead flesh before heading off to his master. Surely this will bring him good favor with the dark Lord.

Please good sir, you must free me so that I can return to my master with urgent news. Tryn wrestles around in the web of netting that holds him captive, to no avail. He can only watch helplessly as he sees the devourer of his brother scurry off into the darkness. If only his brother Tryne were here. He would save Tryn and probably beat this dreadful human into submission. Tryn can’t believe his brother is gone. Who will take care of ol’ dimwitted Tryn from now on? It’s been Tryne’s responsibility for the passed fifty eight years. Please, I sense the good in you; can you not hear the truth in my voice?

The hunter does not truly intend on eating the imp. However, he does recognize an opportunity when it arises. He makes his way back to his campsite where his faithful mutt of a dog waits for his return. Happy for its master’s return, the dog rushes over, sniffs the net, and then its master, before rushing off into the woods for a little exploring. Troddan pulls the netting from over his shoulder and holds it out in front of his face. Would your master find value in your return?

Oh yes, Tryn returns. Let me free and you can follow me to my master’s home and he will reward you! Finally, some measure of a civilized man could be recognized by Tryn, causing him to release a sigh of relief.

I’ll tell ya what, I’ll take ya there myself and then demand my ransom. If he doesn’t think you’re worth it, then I’ll just have to eat ya. Troddan slings the netting back over his shoulder and gathers his camp to head out on this new endeavor. Point the way my little blue captive. The sooner you get home, the sooner I get to eat. Troddan gives a short whistle. C’mon Dawg. The hunter pats his hand against his leg. Soon after, his trusted friend comes out of the brush with his tail wagging.

Krog travels fast for such a small demon. His advantage is his movements from shadow to shadow. To him the shadows are portals, enabling him to travel great distances in a short time, popping in and out of the darkness. His movements carry him into a dark and dreadful forest. The trees and plant life have been perverted and cursed by the evil that has moved into these woods. In the center clearing, an army of Boreknockes and conquered souls slave away building the Dark Lord’s castle fortress. Krog makes its way through the scaffolding and beam supports, trying to reach the center structure without being crushed. A huge parapet stone crashes to the ground right beside the little demon, emphasizing his urgency. It looks up to see the blank stare of a human slave that was responsible for the incident. Krog shakes a fist and bickers at the lost soul before entering the main hall. Master, I have news for you. Krog announces as it scurries into its master’s chamber. Lord Doomsayer sits at his makeshift throne of human remains staring off into the blackness of the chamber. His mysterious priests and scribes show their dark nature before scurrying away at the sight of Krog. Master, I was out in the night and came across two light imps. One of them was very tasty. I wish I could have caught both of them. I am still very hungry.

Why do I tolerate your babblings? Lord Doomsayer turns from his readings and kicks at the dark servant. If you have something for me, then please give it to me so I can continue my work with little distraction.

Krog picks himself up from the floor and rushes back over to Doomsayer. It is a very obedient creature if nothing else. Yes master, it is news of your former teacher, Mynan. I was eating this imp when I had these visions of battles between good and darkness. That imp was a tasty one. He tried to get away, but I stabbed in the leg with my claw, and I told him…

Krog, tell me about the visions!

Oh, yes master. A thousand pardons my Lord. I don’t know why I can’t stay focused. Once something gets stuck in my head, I can’t seem…

Damn you! Doomsayer scatters the books and scrolls in front of him and snatches the demon from the floor, burying his teeth into Krog’s neck. He drinks, and he receives what he desires. The visions flood his mind, overwhelming the dark Lord. Doomsayer throws Krog to the floor and staggers back against a stone altar in the middle of the room. The filth of Krog’s demon blood is more than he can handle. He turns and pukes the vile green liquid into a shallow basin on the altar. With that, the visions cease. It takes a moment for him to regain his composure, as does Krog. Weak, the demon staggers off to go lick his wounds. Being a demon, he has that ability. Focused, Lord Doomsayer knows what he must do, and retrieves several small saucers from a shelf, each one containing a different kind of powder. He slings the powders over the demon’s blood and watches anxiously as the contents of the basin begin to react to one another. Doomsayer waves his hand over the bubbling mixture causing it to burst into flames, burning blue in color. With a small vial of liquid held high, he yells out with a demanding tone, Show me everything! He throws the vial into the burning mixture, causing it to erupt into a column of fire that laps at the ceiling. Then one at a time, Doomsayer sees the visions play out in the flames. Each one would wisp away, as another would form to take its place. There is one of a fair maiden from the west, and another was of a man from the not so distant northeast. There are images of battles with many different tribes. Always, it is his dark warriors who are attacking. There is an image of a phoenix and one of a dragon, and then another image of his father’s face, warning him he will not succeed.

With that, the column of fire burns out, leaving Lord Doomsayer standing alone in the dark. There is something familiar about all of this, something from long ago. He smiles as he remembers a bedtime story from his childhood. He knows what must be done. Finally, after more than two decades, Lord Doomsayer has found a possible way to free his new master and allow the Devastator to walk the realm of Earth. Time is short and much has to be done to bring this plan to reality. He walks over to a shallow platter filled with a murky fluid. He waves his hand over it causing the fluid to stir. Seconds later, and image of a dark sorceress appears on the murky surface. Jezana, you are summoned at once. It is time to use your puppet king for our bidding. Doomsayer grabs a piece of parchment from the table and begins to draw a portrait of a young man using his fingernail as his quill. The mere touch singes the parchment forever, engraving an image for all to see. Krog, come here my pet. You are needed to take this to my Generals. This man is our number one priority, and he is not to survive the season. He takes another sheet and does the same, this time drawing the portrait of a young woman. Jezana, have your puppet king hunt this child down. I want her tucked away for safe keeping, should I need her."

Here she goes again, pleasing her upstart son by catering to his whims. Alas, it is something she must do until the next opportunity arises for her to carry out her plan. It has been nearly a quarter of a century since her last attempt to cast humanity into darkness. It was a well crafted plan taking nearly as long to construct, only to be foiled by the elf princess Teera Min in less than two minutes. Twenty two years is a long time to spend waiting for the ultimate revenge. Crennius my son, Jezana replies stepping from the shadows of the room. A quick look around the room tells her what her son is doing. Priests and scribes rush from the room, scattering their scrolls and pages about as they hurry from her sight. At one time they served her needs and purposes. The question is what can he be looking for in the scrolls? There was nothing in them she found worthy of so much time. But she has good reason to be suspicious of Doomsayer’s actions. He believes that he holds all of the knowledge for the Devastator’s arrival. She has to be sure he never learns everything about the event. He tends to forget that she was the one who educated him about the pleasures of darkness. Somehow, she will have to learn what knowledge he possesses about these two humans, and what parts they play in Doomsayer’s grand scheme. She will be a willing participant in his play, until it doesn’t suit her any more. Then, and only then, will she make her move and take control. She is not one to be outdone by her son. Jezana walks back to the shadows and looks back at Doomsayer one more time before vanishing into the darkness.

In a matter of seconds, she is standing in the bed chamber of her servant king. Of course the sudden appearance is more than his concubines can stand. Fearing for their lives and the mood of the moment gone, the young women rush from the king’s bed, leaving him alone and very unsatisfied. Jezana, what is the meaning of this?

Do not fret, my love starved pet. Answer my one question and I will satisfy your needs and desires. Jezana slides across the floor and eases herself down onto the king’s bed. With one touch of her hand to his head, his mind is filled with visions of women ready to fulfill his every fantasy.

What do you want from me, woman? He asks, caught in her trance. His weakness for the flesh is the one vice that makes him satisfy her every whim. In fact, one would say that she is more the ruler of Coventry Hall than Daenon is.

Why my dear Daenon, I want you to find this woman and put her away for safe keeping until I call for her. Jezana hits him again with another vision of a red headed beauty, and then one of more goddesses waiting on him hand and foot as a reward for his success. You can do this for me, can’t you?

Lady Victorius

image#2.tif

Chapter I

A cool wind blows through the trees, as a warm sun shines down on the small farmhouse, at the edge of a great forest. This farm does not stand alone in this land. Right behind the fields of crops is a great castle that constantly looks over this small family. Mama, There are riders coming! The child runs to the front fence to see who it is. Visitors are so uncommon for this little girl’s home. Her mother, a tall beauty with long flowing auburn hair, had managed to catch the night’s meal and was coming in from the meadow to prepare the catch, when she saw the riders approaching. She knows all too well who they are, but what they want will have to be discovered when they arrive. Exiled from the castle, the visits from anyone are a rare thing, which is why Zoe seems so excited. The little girl is only six but very mature for her age. Still, she is but a child and that side will always shine brightest. Her mother has done well to raise her daughter on her own, but this is no ordinary woman. Mama, who are they? Zoe asks, pointing towards the approaching horsemen. It is a sight that doesn’t occur often around their house. In fact, one would think that their home was purposely off the beaten path. The child’s mother walks over to her daughter’s side, brushing the garden soil from her daughter’s face and hands. Darkness rides the winds with these men and the mother senses it.

I don’t know, little one. Hurry into the house and I will be there, shortly. The young woman strolls towards the roadside to greet the riders. In times like these, most women would be fearful of such a confrontation. But this is no ordinary woman. The auburn haired beauty stands her ground, almost defiantly as the lead rider stops his horse just inches from her position. Instead of falling back, she simply reaches up and strokes the horse’s nose. Good afternoon, warriors. Perhaps you could tell me why you are trespassing on my land.

The lead rider was obviously the one in charge of this band of soldiers. She knew this by his pompous nature in the saddle. Madam, do you claim to be one Lady Victorius, of Coventry Hall? The Captain gives her but one second before he is demanding her response. Did you not hear me, woman? Speak your name before I have you whipped!

Do not work yourself into a fit, Captain. She is Victorius. The voice comes not from behind the soldiers, but from the lady’s home. She turns to see an arrogant, brash man dressed in regal garb stepping from the doorway, holding Victorius’ young daughter, Zoe. My how your daughter has grown; she was but a toddler in swaddling, the last time I saw her. King Daenon messes the girl’s hair with his fingers.

Don’t you mean, when you exiled us from the castle? What is your purpose here, Daenon? Victorius starts towards the young man, only to be halted by the riders’ horses. She concedes her approach to allow Daenon his chance to explain before innocent blood need be spilled. It was not her daughter that was Victorius’ concern. No, the child was safe as long as there was breath in her mother’s chest. It was the innocent soldiers that would fall to her, and that is a past she doesn’t want to relive. So what is your answer, my husband’s brother? Do you come here to finish off the true heirs to the throne?

Daenon gives her a confident laugh as if to assure her of his good intentions. On the contrary, m’ lady, I have a strong love for my niece and would never want to see any harm come to her. Daenon shows a quick glimpse of his true nature to Victorius as he presses his head against Zoe’s. It is a sign of affection to most, but a sign of danger to Victorius.

What do you want, Daenon? She knows that she could take him in a fair fight, but with Zoe as the prize and the soldiers stacking the odds against her, she has no choice but to play his game.

Very well, I need the greatest Commander of my father’s army to lead my troops to war. Since he is dead, all I have left is you. A rival to the north has raised an army and intends to invade our domain. My Captains have fallen before this barbarian, and the troops have lost heart for the battle. Daenon sets the young girl down and steps from the entry of the home, making his way out to face Victorius, eye to eye. As a member of the royal family, you are charged to go meet this barbarian under a sign of truce to draw up terms of surrender. While the leaders of this band of rabble are distracted by your beauty, my men will slip in and dispose of the threat once and for all. Once they have fallen, the army will vanquish their troops. Daenon looks to Victorius to see that she doesn’t approve. Don’t you see? This is a winning situation for all of us. My army will conquer this upstart with your guidance, my lands will be protected, you can regain your standing with the Nobles, Daenon pauses for a second to stare back at the little girl in the doorway. And young Zoe will be safe from harm, because of her mother’s involvement. His tone is dark and ominous, warning her of the dangers involved.

Victorius reacts without hesitation. Very well, Daenon, I will do anything you want. Zoe, come to me, daughter. She starts towards her daughter, only to be halted by the riders again.

No, no, no, my little princess must come to the castle with me, while you’re out conquering armies. Wouldn’t you like that, sweetheart? You will have everything and everyone at your beck and call. You’d like that Princess Zoe wouldn’t you? Daenon gives Victorius a devilish smile.

Oh yes, yes, I would like that very much! Zoe’s eyes light up at the thought of being treated like royalty. Oh please mama, can’t I go with him! I have never been to the castle before. Zoe looks to her uncle and then raises her chin to imitate his royal stature.

No child, I would want you close to my side during these coming times. Go to the house and wait for me there. Victorius looks up to one of the soldiers sitting on horseback, giving him a warning stare that tells him to move or else.

NO, I insist upon her returning to the safety of Coventry Hall. Daenon starts for his horse as several of the riders draw their swords to protect their king. Oh, and to keep from setting a bad example for my men, I would appreciate it if you would refer to me as M’ Lord, or King Daenon. You wouldn’t want to suffer the penalty of insubordination, would you? Daenon looks to Zoe, sitting on her own horse in front of him, as if the cretin knows that the young girl is his trump card, to be played against Victorius at his discretion.

Tell me, oh great King Daenon, how did you get to my home without being seen? Her sarcasm is at its finest but her question is genuine. How did he get there without being seen?

As King, I have the knowledge and ability to go wherever I want. Of course having a hidden passage to your home helps me greatly.

Know this, King Daenon, if any harm befalls her while she is in your custody, there will be no one that can protect you from a mother’s vengeance. Victorius looks to her daughter to assure her all is well. The innocent little girl had no idea that dark peril now enveloped her life. Victorius didn’t want her to think anything else, for it was better that way.

Daenon discards her threat and allows his true nature to surface for a moment. Captain Broddack will take you to where the army is camped. We have suffered casualties equaling a thousand. We can suffer no more. Broddack will hand deliver you to the military leaders that called for your name. Inspire the troops, lead my army and vanquish the infidel that threatens little Zoe’s kingdom.

Do you hear that, mama? He said Zoe’s kingdom!

Victorius calmly walks over to her daughter and kneels down in front of the child. Yes baby, I heard the man, uh, king. Fear not, little one. Mama will return soon, to bring you home. Victorius knows that if she makes a move towards her brother-in-law, she could put both of their lives in jeopardy. If I catch you sneaking around my home without your guards, I’ll gut you myself for trespassing. For now, Daenon has the upper hand and she must play hers that way. The King motions for three of the riders to follow him, leaving the Captain and the other two riders with Victorius. She watches her daughter ride off with the man that killed his brother, and then turns to the soldiers waiting for her. So tell me, Captain Broddack, why is it that you still live, while the other Captains have died? Are you a coward, or just green to the rank? Either way, I can see why the good king needs a woman to lead his army. The two subordinates snicker to themselves at the woman’s remark. Broddack glares at her wanting to remove her head where she stood. She ignores his threats and starts for the house. Wait here, you war dogs. I shall return in a moment with my things.

Yes, and put your laundry and cooking away while you are at it. Broddack was trying to sound macho and tough. He should have chosen his words better than that.

As a matter of fact, I just finished baking a humble pie. Would you like some? Without warning, Victorius uses the toe of her sandal and flips a large rock up into her hand. With lightning speed and reflexes, she spins around and hurls the stone at Broddack’s forehead. Before anyone knew what was happening, Broddack was flipping off the back of his horse to land face first in a pile of warm dung. Pick your Captain up boys, and clean him off. It wouldn’t look right for us to ride into camp with the Captain covered with himself. With that, The Lady enters her home while the riders try to help the Captain up, who did not want their help whatsoever.

Broddack has never suffered such humiliation in his entire career. To him, the importance of Daenon’s plan does not compare for his need of avenging his honor. He pushes his two subordinates to the ground and