The Creator's Vassal

By Tyler Clarke

For generations, an insidious group have plagued Meridians with ritual sacrifice and mass murder.
As the Kingdom of Meridius is ravaged by horrors within and beyond, a boy is chosen by the Creator to stand against this group, bringing salvation to all true believers of the Church.
Young Yecats must learn the ancient secrets of his homeland to cleanse the realm of evil and corruption, while exiles to the east plot their revenge against both his family and the kingdom that had spurned them. Beneath it all, a greater threat looms…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528902083

Tyler Clarke

Tyler Clarke was born in 1998 and raised on a farm in Waikato, New Zealand. He has three brothers and recently graduated from The University of Waikato with a bachelor of science degree (Tech), majoring in biology. Since he was young, he had a passion for creating worlds and the stories that they held.

Book preview

Epilogue

About the Author

Tyler Clarke was born in 1998 and raised on a farm in Waikato, New Zealand. He has three brothers and recently graduated from The University of Waikato with a bachelor of science degree (Tech), majoring in biology. Since he was young, he had a passion for creating worlds and the stories that they held.

Dedication

To Stu, Michele, Jarrod, Logan and Stacey. Thank you.

Copyright Information ©

Tyler Clarke (2021)

The right of Tyler Clarke to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788784740 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528902083 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

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Prologue

26th Day of Drought Break in 608 AD

The ocean was rough in the Dius Strait, the waves crashing against the rocky shoreline and roaring like some savage beast. Prince Donal Ekralc and his wife, Yllek, were watching their sons play in the shallows, after deciding that today was the best time to bring their sons to the beach. The guards had reported a drop in numbers of Seakas over the summer and those days were almost behind them. They were accompanied by an escort befitting the king’s brother and despite the reassurances of the men on watch, Donal was still on edge.

His children had begged to be able to go to the sea and look upon the Dius Strait. It was common practice in the north to bathe in its warm waters, which the priests of Creation claimed washed away your sins. After a summer of denying his wife and children, he had finally relented. They had spent the whole day wandering the rocks and sands, but he had forbidden his children from entering the waters.

With the third migration still in full swing, a Seaka could appear from under the water at any time and he was not willing to endanger his two sons. Mason, the oldest, had spent the day arguing the best that his eight-year-old self could, with his younger brother Caj nodding fiercely along with him. When even his wife had joined in the argument, he agreed, so long as they did not go beyond knee depth. They had run out as fast as their young legs could carry them.

They’re fine, his wife said, watching his face. Look at them, they’re loving this.

He smiled, eyes never moving from the boys as they splashed each other. I suppose.

He never understood the priest’s reverence for these waters. They were the source of centuries of suffering when the migrations were in place. The endless crashing of waves against the shoreline had always filled Donal with dread. He could never think of a reason, but each roaring wave made his jaw clench and made him want to bolt.

Yllek sighed, turning to look at their children. Donal saw her bring one hand to her face and wiping her eyes. She was a beautiful woman, with earthy skin and black hair. The daughter of a Chelawine nobleman, she had agreed to marry him over ten years ago. They had lived happily since then, with access to all the comforts Meridius could offer them. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

When will you tell Mason? Her voice was choked as she spoke, as if she was holding back tears.

He kissed the top of her head, considering her question. My father told me when I turned 20. It feels like that will be as good a time as any. The same will have to do for Caj.

She shook her head. They won’t take it well. They might go the way of your sister.

You mean the Queen? It’s still our only choice. If I told them any earlier, they wouldn’t understand what was at stake. His gaze wandered to the northern horizon, where he knew Armadius lay. According to the history books, the southern coast of Armadius was once visible from their shores, but the centuries had taken their toll on the godless land as it was eroded further and further away. He looked up to the sun, which was making its slow descent to the west. We should be heading off. He pulled away from her, standing and making his way towards the surf.

She followed behind as they made their way into the shallows. Caj was riding on Mason’s back when they called out and told them it was time to go.

Mason pouted for a moment and then smiled wickedly. You have to catch us first! He turned around and waded further out, Caj still on his back.

Donal’s stomach dropped. No, Mason! Come back! He ran as fast as he could after them, images of Seakas emerging from the strait burning in his mind. He finally reached them when Mason had made it out to chest height. He swept Caj off his brother shoulders, passing the four-year-old to Yllek and seizing Mason by the arm. He let out a breath, relief filling him. He turned and began dragging them back up the beach, as Mason started to complain.

But, Father—

"No! Donal yanked on his son’s arm, not stopping. You do not do that! Ever! Do you hear me?"

Looking down, he saw that Mason was on the verge of tears. A cold hand of shame clutched at his heart, but before he could apologise a yell came from the shore.

"Prince Donal!" It was one of the members of his guard, pointing into the ocean behind them. Seakas! Donal looked behind him and terror welled up inside him as he saw a pair of brown, woolly heads rise on long necks out of the ocean not ten metres behind them. They had no eyes from centuries underground, with prominent nostrils positioned above their slavering jaws, lined with rows of dagger-like teeth.

He shoved Mason onto the beach, commanding him to run to the guards. He waded back in to grab Caj and Yllek along with several guards. The Seaka’s bodies broke free of the water, revealing a hulking mass of fur, with a body like a bear’s but far larger. He grabbed hold of his wife and Caj, dragging them out as fast as he could. Just as they were about to reach the beach, he heard his wife scream and felt her pulling on his arm. He looked back and one of the Seakas had latched onto her left arm with its mouth and was biting through to the bone.

He let out a cry of anguish, passing Caj to the nearest guard who promptly ran back up the beach, dragging his son behind him. Donal looked back in horror as his wife’s arm was ripped off by the first Seaka and the second clamped its jaws squarely around her head, severing her neck in one quick crunch. He screamed in rage, clutching her lifeless body as it collapsed into the surf. In the distance he heard the screaming of their children and the shouts of the guards, but his eyes were locked on to the stump where his wife’s head had been.

He hugged her corpse to his chest, tears pouring from his eyes. "I’m sorry, Yllek." He rocked back and forth in the surf, aware of the guards engaging the Seakas with spears and swords but ignoring it. His wife’s body still twitched and jerked as gentle waves washed away the blood that still poured from her wounds. He stayed there for several heartbeats, until he heard a guttural roar coming from further out in the sea and the screams of the remaining guards. He looked up and saw a nightmare playing out before his eyes as an entire pack of Seakas emerged from beneath the waves, hundreds of blind heads searching for the source of commotion, following the smell of blood and the sounds of prey.

He was dimly aware of the first bite around his legs, pulling him away from his wife and through the waves. He never felt the second bite, or the third. All he felt was grief, and regret. I’m so sorry Mason and Caj, he thought, I am so sorry that we won’t be here for you. He closed his eyes and let himself go as a clawed foot buried itself in his chest, ripping him open.

The Child

30th day of The Sowing in 612 AD

How many days and months are there in a year, Yecats?

"Do I have to, Sir Lorac?" he whined, rocking back and forth in his chair. It was the middle of summer, the sun was blazing high in the sky and Yecats Ratiug was stuck in the library with Sir Lorac Cornwell, the captain of Harmagin’s guards and one of the kindest men Yecats had met in all his eight years of life. The knight had taken off his armour for the lesson, but he was an imposing figure even so. Standing straight he was six feet tall and age had not made him any less able with an axe. Unfortunately, when it came to lessons, he was as strict as in the training yard, but there were far fewer axes involved.

At least Caj Ekralc shared in his pain. They were nearly the same age and they both were without their parents in Harmagin. The castle was one of the few left in Meridius not ensconced within a city, located directly on the White River to provide one of the only bridges across the deep body of water.

Well?

Yecats slammed the front legs of his chair onto the oaken floor, rubbing his head as he tried to remember. There are…12 months?

Lorac nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. Can you name the summer months for me?

He glanced to where Caj sat next to him and received an encouraging thumbs-up. His friend was short, even for their age, barely reaching his chest when standing. But what he lacked in height, he made up for in his wits and his devotion to the Creator. He had been taught to read long before him and spent most of his evenings reading the holy book until he could recite entire passages from memory. It helps me forget things, Caj had confided in him once, during one of the brief moments not spent training their bodies and minds.

The current month is the 11th month of the year, the Sowing, and next is Dry Sky. Then comes, uh, Cragmon?

The lines around Sir Lorac’s eyes crinkled and he ran a hand through the thin, grey hair that still clung to his scalp. Good. Can you explain the meaning of the names?

The Sowing is named for the first sowing of grain after winter. The twelfth month is called Dry Sky ’cause there’s almost no rain, and Cragmon…it’s the first month, and… His thoughts flew wildly as he desperately searched his mind for the answer, but he could not remember.

It is Craig’s month, right Sir Lorac? Yecats and Lorac both looked at Caj in surprise.

Very good, Caj. Lorac leaned forward in his chair, joining his hands below his chin. "King Craig Ekralc I, the First Ruler of Meridius, the Staff-Wielder, the Creator’s Chosen. He led the first people of Meridius out of the dark times and into God’s New Creation. Side by side with his wife, Queen Bruda, he ruled wisely and well for thirty-one years and bequeathed the mantle of ruler to his eldest daughter, Eren before his passing.

His body was laid to rest in his personal place of worship, the Keep of Creation, built upon the tallest mountain in the land. His tomb lies there still and his coronation marked the first day of Cragmon and is celebrated with each new year.

Yecats listened intently, wanting to remember for the next time he was asked. King Craig was Caj’s an-ces-tor, right? He liked that word, ancestor. He has just learned it, but he knew how to use it.

The knight smiled, nodding. Indeed, the prince here is a direct descendant of Craig. A holy bloodline that defends us from the demons that seek to destroy everything we mortals hold dear. The Notandal. The name was spoken through clenched teeth, a look of anger clouding his face.

They were the ones that destroyed my family’s home, weren’t they sir? Yecats had heard some men talking about it once.

Sir Lorac shifted from side to side, the angry look in his eyes fading to pity. Aye lad, they were.

Yecats frowned at the ground. Why? He wanted to ask, but he could tell that sir was uncomfortable talking about it.

Lorac stood, signalling that the lesson was over. Yecats leapt up from his chair, grabbing Caj and pulling him towards the door. The best part of the lessons was just after they finished because they got to run down the stairs. The tower had a spiral staircase that wound around and around and running down them almost felt like flying when you went fast enough. Once he had dived head long into a serving girl and they had both tumbled down several feet before stopping. They had both laughed wildly as they lay tangled together. He liked the servants in Harmagin.

Today he took the steps three at a time, with Caj trying to keep up behind him. The air whipped through his hair as he descended and he was almost disappointed when they reached the bottom. But the run had worked up a sweat, which meant it was time for a swim.

Come on Caj! Follow me! He cried back as he made his way out into the courtyard. There were several men training with swords and spears and they waved to him as he passed. He gave a quick wave back before hurrying to the portcullis at the entrance to the