Petty Kings

By B.E. Scott

Petty Kings is the first book in the Petty Kingdoms Series. Twenty years after the collapse of the Empire of Amor a new generation of children come of age.

Kate, a nineteen-year-old woman, living in the poverty-stricken marshes, finds her skills of bow hunting a valuable asset to the all-male guard. As an impoverished

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.E. Scott
• Release date: Aug 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9780578965383

Book preview

Prologue

When the morning sun rose over the camps, nearly everyone was dying or already dead. The chaplains, terrified of the death around them, ran up the hill for a glimpse of their enemy. To their horror, they were the only ones left alive. Each had used thallium to poison the others water supplies in the night.

The death of so many was too much for them, and they dueled atop the hill. The end was slow after they mortally wounded each other. They each stared at the other as the two great kingdoms died there, Chaplain Hill.

Twenty years later, the damage from the war still lingered. Complications of the endless wars and a horrific plague had claimed 90 percent of the continent’s population. The provinces that made up the empire were broken into small, petty kingdoms with their own separate governments and lords. There was no more cooperation or trust among the provinces, and many used their geographic resources to their own advantages.

Elias, king of the Free Marshes, was keenly aware of the lack of trade between the kingdoms. The Free Marsh territory was a creative name for nothing more than a swamp with few resources except fresh water and timber. It had a single port in the south, appropriately called South Pier. The water was so shallow that even if there were heavy trade, it would not support the shipping.

King Elias, frail and infirm with white hair and a long white beard, was now advanced in years. Somewhat to his surprise, he conveniently survived the plague by not getting it. But the plague took his two sons, daughter, and his wife’s entire family. His only living direct relatives were now his nephew Martin and niece Viola, all of seventeen and sixteen. In the past twenty years, one commonly met people over fifty years of age and those under twenty, but the rest had been killed by war or plague.

Breakfast was to be served this morning. Elias sat upon his chair at a long table, alone. His niece and nephew had not yet arrived. The steward approached the table with a plate for Elias and a bright smile. My lord, your omelet has arrived.

Elias scowled at the plate of fried fish. Omelet. I’m sure. Made of three-quarters fish and a quarter of your imagination.

The starvation in the kingdom was becoming worse, not because of lack of food but because the only food they had was fish. Their only trade partners were to the south on the island of Elnora. The other provinces knew the marshes were lacking resources. They themselves did not trade either, but letting your enemy die of slow starvation was preferred to the prospect of giving them the very resources they needed to oppose you. Elnora sent fish in exchange for timber.

The Elnora king was reclusive and isolated himself from the other kingdoms. Rumors abounded about him. Some believed he had control over all the fish and made sure Elnora kept it as a monopoly. True, no fish were near the southern coast of the continent, but the island and south toward the pole of the world had an abundance. The sea between the continent and the fertile fishing ground was so dangerous that no ships dared approach, not that they had any sailors or boats to try anyway.

What I wouldn’t give for game! Anything: deer, boar, or bear, even a rabbit, he muttered under his breath. The trade war must end. And soon, for all our sakes.

Your majesty. An older man with stubble for hair and an unshaven face spoke from the doorway to the dining hall.

Elias rubbed the nape of his neck. Brian. You may enter.

Brian fidgeted as he approached the king. Your grace, I have the figures you wanted and the letter to send to Dulimore for the gala.

That is excellent, Brian. I hope we can work out some sort of trade deal with them for crops for fish or timber. It might not even be in our favor, but we must make desperate decisions. The trade war must end, and quickly. I am not sure how much longer we can survive like this.

Brian stood at attention and nodded as the king spoke. He worried his sleeves as he tried to get up the courage to speak his mind.

My lord...your grace. My daughter is nineteen now, and I wish to have her at the gala. My hope is perhaps securing a betrothal, if possible.

Elias furrowed his brow. Kate? Nineteen? Oh my, astonishing how the time passes. I fear that might be difficult to accomplish, considering her behavior and her appearance. Does she still spend time in the woods gutting animals?

Brian grimaced and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She does, but I am sure I can get her cleaned up for the gala.

The king slowly sipped his cup of water and leaned back in his chair. It makes no difference to me, but I feel bad for the girl. She comes to a fourth of these without a betrothal. I have nothing but sympathy for her. You are aware the castle blacksmith is widowed with three children, all younger than five years of age? If I could convince him, he would not be an unsuitable match for her. I might even throw in a dowry to smooth out the deal. Three sons could mean three blacksmiths if he had a woman to keep the home for him. I know we have little mineral wealth, but someday, we hope to acquire more through trade. What are your thoughts?

Brian’s eyebrows rose, but he sighed. My lord, it makes sense to me, but I doubt my daughter would care to live in the city. Gods know, I have tried. She spends almost all her days and even her nights in the swamps. I will keep this in mind though. This dowry, what would it...I mean to say, how much is it?

Well, Brian, my wife’s family had ten acres of wooded estate up against the mountain to the west. The land isn’t very accessible, but your daughter might be interested in making her life there. That is, after a few decades of service with the blacksmith.

Brian pondered this. It would secure her future and allow him to move out of that hovel in Galebridge. The village of twenty fools was wearing on his nerves, and he only kept the home because of his daughter’s refusal to move to the city.

The idea seemed reasonable, although he was certain Kate would need some convincing. My lord, I will take my leave and return in the morning. In the next week, I will see how my daughter feels about the arrangement and plans to attend the gala.

Elias waved him away. Take care, Brian. The king watched as his steward left the dining room. He stared down at the breakfast the steward had so graciously prepared and fantasized that it was a steak. He pinched his nostrils before taking the first bite.

Chapter 1

Aela Katelyn O’Neill spent all her time in the swampland with surrounding thick trees. She loved to hunt and lived in her makeshift shelter of sticks and leaves. She originally came to the woods to avoid the problems in the village. Three girls and three boys all around the same age lived there, but at nineteen, she was the eldest. Each would clearly marry; however, Kate was not at all interested in the simpletons who lived in th e village.

Two of the boys had already married two of the girls, and Marcus, the third of the bunch, was not really interested in girls. Kate was happy with the arrangement, but the harassment was too much for her.

Kate was average height, but her body was solid, her shoulders and torso square and muscular. She hid her thick, brawny arms under her cloak. She was far different from the slight women that made up the bulk of the province. And she was more than just fit. Her face was round but without the soft features that you would expect from a lady. True, she was the daughter of a noble so, in fact, a lady, but an impoverished one. She tucked her shoulder-length dark-brown hair into a bun at her neck and often pulled it back so that she could pass for a man. She wore a padded coif on her head and hard leather armor that obscured her chest. Two layers of pteruges around her waist formed a skirt. The leather pants and boots underneath had been made from deer hides that she had hunted and tanned herself.

Kate tucked her cloak over her head and held the long knife handle at her waist as she knelt down to attend to a deer she had just killed. The arrow shaft still protruded from the mammal, but it lay silent on the ground. She pulled out the arrow and checked to see if the stone tip was intact. The Free Marshes had no mines of any kind, and most weapons or tools were bone, wood, or rock. It was a good sign that she found the arrow tip as it saved her the trouble of digging around inside the animal.

Dressing a deer was the worst part of the hunt and the least satisfying. Once it was cleaned and prepared, she would lift it over her shoulders and haul it back to camp. As she worked, she wondered if this was how hunters lived: solitary in the woods, claiming a deer or boar a day, and then sitting around the campfire with the drying kiln, working.

Kate had finished cleaning the deer and hoisted it over her shoulders, slogging her way through the swamp to her camp. It was just a lean-to stick-and-leave shelter with a campfire, kiln, drying rack, and a barrel for tanning. The village would never allow the smell of tanning bins anywhere nearby. Her camp was near a small lagoon of fresh water where she cleaned herself after all the work.

Kate absorbed the quiet, settling in to skin the animal as she prepared the hide for drying. She focused on the task, winding down from the day, and planned for a quiet evening.

Chapter 2

The hide was drying, and the kiln was heating up as Kate waited for the meat to smoke. It was her sixth deer in the last couple months. Tomorrow, she would go into the city to trade. Kate had made a deal with a merchant in the city to barter a spear for boa r hunting.

She had seen three boars in the woods over the last week, and she wanted to kill one. The meat was far more bountiful on a boar than on a deer and would fetch more crowns as well. A couple of the hides would bring several crowns a piece while a deer would only bring a couple. And that only if you were willing to haggle.

Kate rested next to the campfire, mesmerized by the flames. Crunch! Snap! Shh. Be quiet. The voice of an intruder drifted her way, but the trio was anything but. She knew exactly who they were and what direction they were coming from. Marcus, Josh, and Matt, the village idiots, had stumbled knee deep in swamp water toward her camp.

Hey, tit boy. Is this where you spend your nights? Josh sneered. Marcus refused to meet her eyes, and Matt snarled at her. They slowly encircled her, pacing as she stood.

Why do you live in a swamp? It’s gross. Marcus has no one, and neither do you. Would you prefer the swamp and dead animals to him? I guess so, considering you are feral, anyway. Kate was used to Josh’s cruel barbs.

Josh stood behind Kate now, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke. She wanted to run but knew all too well that this would end badly, whatever they wanted.

Kate reached for the knife on her belt. Just then, someone grabbed her. With his left hand, he grabbed her around the neck and pulled her to the ground with his right.

Matt, help me grab her knife. Josh struggled with Kate.

Matt knocked the knife from her hand and tossed it out of reach. He was now on top of her with his knees on her arms.

Kate struggled as Josh held down her feet. Whatever you want, I don’t have it. Get off me, she said through gritted teeth.

Let’s go, Marcus, I have her.

You’re going to rape me? For what? Kate screamed. I hate you bastards! She slowly worked her right arm free of Matt’s knee.

Marcus looked down at her legs. I can’t do it. He took off running in the opposite direction.

Matt looked over his shoulder while still on top of Kate. He yelled at Marcus as he fled. You fairy bastard, we did this for you.

When Matt turned his head, Kate wiggled her arm free and landed a blow directly on Matt’s face as he turned back to her. His nose crunched with a satisfying crack as it exploded with blood. He fell to his right, and Kate quickly climbed to her feet. Josh charged her, swinging wildly and striking her mouth. She stumbled, tasting blood.

You’re a freak, you know that? You and Marcus deserve each other. Josh positioned his fists, ready to fight. Still on the ground, Matt held his face with both hands, kneeling over a pool of his own blood.

This it for you, bastards. I am going to turn you into the guard and have you both whipped. Kate struggled to rearrange her clothes and then raised her fists.

Josh and Kate moved left and right, throwing wild punches and missing. Faster by far, Kate threw a quick punch that landed on Josh’s shoulder, but he landed one square on her left eye. Throbbing pain rushed through her head, and she took a step back. Overly confident, Josh lunged toward her, only to catch a swift punch right to the jaw and another to his temple. He fell face first into the swamp. Kate turned sideways, landing a hard kick to his abdomen as he tried to crawl to his feet.

Kate’s head pounded as adrenaline flushed through her body. She leaned against a tree to steady herself as Josh and Matt rose and fled toward the village.

Chapter 3

Kate was shaking all over as fear and adrenaline coursed through her. She held her left hand on her eye, knowing it would blacken quickly. Blood still dripped from her lip down her chin.

Kate had hoped living outside the village would have distracted those boys from any ideas that included her and Marcus. At the same time, she knew this day was coming. She fought back tears. They didn’t care about her or her feelings at all but only cared about the idea of her and Marcus. She tamped down her sadness as she gritted her teeth and hardened her heart.

Kate tried rationalizing her situation as rage boiled within. They would never rape her because Marcus had no feelings for women, and the other two barely grew excited for their own wives, let alone someone like her. As she thought about what had happened, her stomach clenched. She finally rearranged her clothes and grabbed her knife handle, ready to confront Marcus in the village.

Kate normally jumped over the palisade near their cottage, using a nearby log, but this time, she walked through the front gate toward Marcus’s house. As she approached the center of the village, an elderly man, Ronald, approached her. He was Matt’s father. Kate, I know you are mad, but those idiot boys already got a beating. Let it go.

They wanted to rape me. Kate snarled at the man.

The man blocked her way, trying again to calm her. You know as well as I do, they only wanted to help Marcus. No one in the village wants to accept that he is this way.

Get out of my way, Kate threatened as she drew her knife. The man stepped quickly aside.

Kate approached Marcus’s house, and just as she did, the window shutter was pulled closed. Marcus, get out here now! I’ll tell everyone in the village what you did if you don’t. They’ll believe me too. Tell them how you and a boy in the woods get on so well. I’ll tell them exactly what you do at South Pier with the sail—

Before Kate finished, the door opened, and Marcus charged out, his hands shaking. Please, Kate, I am so sorry. What was I supposed to do? They won’t let up, and they hound me day and night about being with some girl. I could never hurt you, and you know I never would let them either. They are just idiots, but they got a huge beating today. I think it’s finally over. Their own parents are wise to their behavior. Just let it go. This is the first and the last time this will ever happen. How can I make it up to you? Is there anything I can do?

Kate clenched the knife in her hand and her teeth so tightly that the pain travelled up to her ear dulling the sound of Marcus’ rambling. She hated him and wanted him dead. Nothing he could give her would make up for what he had done. She knew he wouldn’t have gone through with it, but she wasn’t so sure about the other two idiots. She paused, trying to figure out how to dull the pain or achieve her goal of leaving this crap village once and for all. Finally, she had an idea.

Your father’s old war helm. Do you still have it? Kate tilted her head back, looking down at him.

Yes. Of course. It’s yours. Anything, Marcus groveled. He dashed inside the house and brought it out, worn, but still in decent shape, the straps solid with no cracks. It was a silvery metal helm with horizontal wings tucked tight against the sides, the kind that the great warriors in the continental armies wore. It was surely worth a bit of money as metal in the Free Marshes was impossible to get. She wanted it for protection, anything to discourage those idiots from bothering her again.

Marcus’s mother peered out the door of their house as Kate took the helm. Kate leered at her as the mother turned away. Kate tried on the helm and latched it under her chin as it was a little loose since it was sized for a man. Still, she looked menacing. She put her knife in her scabbard and turned to walk away.

Marcus said to her retreating back, We are square, Kate, right? No more trouble between us. I am truly sorry.

She spoke over her shoulder, her words carried on the breeze. I never want to see you or those bastards again.

Chapter 4

Kate walked across the tiny village of fifteen or so cottages—really only hovels—to her father’s house. She used to call it her home too, but Brian became impossible to live with after he became a scribe to the king. He wasn’t even a real king but an old soldier who just so happened to be stationed at the fortress when all the balance of power vanished in the continent.

Her father incessantly tried to partner her with any man with means, from a sixty-year-old woodcutter to the thirteen-year-old son of a tailor. It was pathetic and all he talked of. The real reason for all this was his desperation to move to the city. Although she didn’t like the village, the city was no place for her either. If he had managed to move her there, the half-wit suitors would only become worse. Her father hated the village of Galebridge, affectionately called Garbage by the local nobility. This was yet another reason why Kate spent her time in the woods.

Kate’s mother was a very distant relative to the king, several levels removed to the point that the relationship was scarcely worth mentioning. She had died during childbirth from complications of the plague. Kate and Brian survived. As far as anyone knew, they were the only ones who ever had.

These facts only made their situation worse as they had no money to begin with, and the wars and plague stole any hope her father had of being a chancellor to the king as well. Before the war, he spent his entire life reading and studying for just such a position.

Meanwhile, as a scribe, he pushed for diplomacy and the opening of trade, but their status in life would not improve while living in this crappy village. Kate knew this and encouraged her father to leave, but though he loved her, he rarely showed affection. Whenever he saw her, he started with a lecture about etiquette or manners or even appearance, how she looked like a ruffian and talked like a sailor. Her ears burned just thinking about her father telling her to act like as lady and soften herself as no decent man would want to live with a wildwoman.

Kate cautiously approached the house, hoping her father had not returned, only to see the candlelight from the open window. Now that she knew, she stopped and tried to mentally prepare herself for what her father would say. The thought crossed her mind to return to her swamp camp, but if she did, no doubt, her father would hear, and the next thing she knew, the village guard would search for her. The guards were six fools with spears led by one decent soldier, Roger, who was at least seventy now.

Kate opened the door to the cottage and casually entered. Da, it’s me, back from the swamp. I just wanted to—

Before she finished, her father rushed over to her, his words tumbling out. My god, what happened to your face? Your eye is almost completely swollen shut, and your lip is the size of a stone. You have blood all over your chin. What happened? He paused to catch his breath. It was those boys from the village again, wasn’t it? The two bastards and their girlfriend Marcus. I’ll take care of those ruffians. I’ll go to the guard and have them strung up or beaten.

Kate sighed to calm herself. Please, da, it’s nothin’. I am fine. They got the worst of it. I don’t want to talk about it. I just came by to let ya know I’m fine if rumors spread around the village.

Rumors. Like the rumor that my daughter lives like an animal in the woods while I dine with the king in the castle? A rumor like my daughter is a lesbian, pretending to be a man? That helm you are wearing will only make them worse. Look at you, battered and beaten, dressed as a soldier or scoundrel. What war are you fighting? With me or yourself or the whole damn world?

Kate just stared ahead and frowned, taking the brunt of the lecture. Just like I expected. Another lecture.

Well, Karl, nothin’ to say about ya getting the worst of the rumors? You need to speak and act proper for once in your life. Brian’s voice rose in animation.

Da, I have told you a dozen times. If I look like a man, it’s only to protect myself, and if anyone says my name is Karl, it’s because I use the fake name in the city so I don’t get attacked, killed, or worse. No one will trade with a girl either. You know I like boys, they just…think I am gross. Or at least not good enough. Can’t you see that?

Brian put his hands on his hips and shook his head. If you had proper clothes, bathed once in awhile, and softened yourself… His voice trailed off.

Kate rolled her eyes as soon as he mentioned softening herself. Here comes another lecture. For the hundredth time at least. Instead, she said, Stop. I only came by to say that I am going to the woods tonight. That’s all. I am fine. Let’s leave it at that. Just spare me the lecture.

"Oh no, you are not going to the woods tonight. There was a raid at the fort at Tallin. Roger told me the bandits are holding up there, and he is waiting on word from the king as to who will go with him to take it back. You need to stay inside the village tonight. They might need you to stand guard on the walls. You are the only archer anywhere nearby. Besides, the gala is coming within the week. King Elias is offering a dowry for you if you marry Michael the castle blacksmith."

Kate looked at him in utter disgust as her stomach did somersaults. The answer is no. No to the woodcutter, no to the tailor, and no to the blacksmith.

The king is offering an estate near Western Mountains that used to belong to his sister’s family. It is the opportunity of a lifetime. Please consider it. The blacksmith is only in his early forties now and has many good years left.

Kate had seen the blacksmith before. He was a very hard man, tall and handsome, but stern. She wouldn’t be surprised if he abused his previous wife, and she had no interest in him anyway. It’s da’s best attempt. At least this man was within twenty years of her age and not a child. Ever since she had turned sixteen, she had had to go to the gala and pretend to find someone. Yet each time, for the last three years, no man had showed her any attention. While she didn’t dress like a lady, she was always bathed with her hair carefully plaited. Many men lost interest when they saw a woman with thick muscular arms instead of soft features. The rumors circulating about her in the woods only drove them further away.

Kate turned to walk away. I am happy. Why can’t you be happy for me too?

Brian stood with his hand at his hip, pointing down as he yelled, "What future do you have here? You hunt and sell hide for armor and weapons. Do you want to be a soldier, to go out on adventures? Girls your age are desperate to marry, but no, not you. You show no inclination toward finding a husband at all. It is as if you live from week to week, not thinking about a long-term future. What are