Cedric of RoseThorn: Book One: Cedric of RoseThorn, #1

By S. Thomas Kaza

After a near fatal encounter with Death, Cedric wakes to find his castle abandoned, his people scattered, and enemies at his gates. The world he once knew has been turned upside down, and he is now hunted by the very outlaws he once hunted. But Cedric is a man of RoseThorn. Not only is he resourceful and a warrior of the first class, but also heir to the noble values of his ancestors. Determined to keep RoseThorn alive as the last hope for the weak and outcast, Cedric rescues the few survivors he can find and brings them back to his castle. Therein begins his struggle to outsmart an army of bandits and their charismatic leader, Luther, while trying to make sense of the ghosts from his past. As the story reaches its climax, Cedric begins to get an inkling of a traitor in his midst. But can he uncover the truth in time to save his castle and his people?

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. Thomas Kaza
• Release date: Jun 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201684839

S. Thomas Kaza

S Thomas Kaza was born in blue collar Michigan, grew up along the Maumee River in Ohio, went to school in the cornfields of Iowa and the great city of St. Louis, before spending several years living in Japan and China. He returned to the U.S. to raise a family. He is the author of a medieval dystopian series, a middle grader fantasy series, and short stories in several genres (realistic fiction, science fiction, fantasy, and ghost stories).

Book preview

Chapter 1- Stranger in the Tower

The lords of RoseThorn Castle always flew their colors from atop the three towers rising high above the castle walls. On a clear day the flags could be seen more than a mile away. People in the valley catching sight of the red and white banners waving in the distance knew all was well. Peace reigned in this land. They were safe. But on this moonless night a deathly stillness settled over the castle. The wind did not blow. The flags did not stir. The whole castle sat in darkness, broken only by the light coming from the narrow windows high in the East Tower.

Inside the tower, Cedric, lord of RoseThorn, kept a vigil at his wife’s bedside. She lay sick with a strange illness that seized her only the day before. The nurses did all they could. Then a healer was sent for and expected to arrive by dawn. The only thing remaining to do was to comfort the lady through the long night. Cedric stayed by her side, speaking words of encouragement when she cried out, wiping the sweat from her feverish brow. But most of all he prayed.

An hour earlier the fever seemed to break. His wife looked up at him, smiled and said his name. He held her hand. She squeezed his. He could have sent word to the kitchen for soup. He could have called for one of the servants to come change the bedding. But he didn’t. He thought it best to let her rest. Now he began to wonder if he made the right decision. After closing her eyes the lady did not move again. Her face now looked pale. Her breathing became shallow. He could not discern the rise and fall of her breast beneath the blankets. Cedric brushed his wife’s auburn hair back. Gently he took her face in his hands.

Milona! he called to her, Milona!

She did not respond.

Cedric took her hand. It was cold. He patted it while calling her name. But still she did not respond. He felt desperation creeping into his heart and considered going to the door and calling for help. He wanted to send a rider to find the healer who must surely be nearing the castle by now. But he didn’t. He secretly feared what might be waiting if he opened the door. Not knowing what else to do, he knelt at his wife’s bedside, clasped his hands together, and bowing his head began to pray.

Great Father, the new day has not yet arrived..... nor the healer promised me. There is nothing more anyone at the castle can do. By your most gracious mercy do not let this come to pass. Grant this good lady one day to regain her strength. Allow her just one small measure in your infinity of time.

Cedric paused, hoping for some sign his prayer might be answered. He held his breath, listening for his wife’s breathing. But he heard nothing.

Please, Father, he said, I beg of you. I will do whatever you ask of me. I will lay down my sword, if you so desire. I will build you a chapel in the forest. I will...

But before he could say anymore, Cedric heard movement behind him. He realized someone else was in the tower chamber with him. He jumped to his feet and turned around. Before him stood a tall stranger dressed head to feet in long, black robes, his face hidden in the shadows of a hood drawn up over his head.

Are you the healer? Cedric asked.

The stranger shook his head no.

Then who are you? Who let you in here? Cedric’s face flushed with anger.

He had given specific orders that no one, except the healer, should be allowed to enter the chamber before dawn’s first light. He was about to call to the guard, when he noticed the door, the only door into the chamber, was still bolted shut from the inside. Cedric felt the hair rise on his neck.

How..... how did you? he began to ask.

The stranger lifted his arm. The long sleeve of his robe slid back, revealing a fleshless hand of white bones. One finger pointed at the Lady Milona.

It is time, the stranger hissed.

Cedric stumbled back. You... you have come..... even now as I pray to the Great Father.

With a wave of his hand, the stranger motioned for Cedric to step aside. But the Lord of RoseThorn would not yield. He knew there was only one chance now. The first light of dawn should not be far off.

If I can only keep him away from her until then.....

It is time, you say, Cedric said, hearing the tremble in his voice, But..... but how can it be time for this woman? Look at her. She is yet young and fair. Turn your gaze instead to the village down in the valley. There are others there, old and tired. They have lived full lives. Now their bodies are failing them. Fly to them now. Quick, before dawn! They eagerly await your arrival.

The dark stranger did not turn away. Instead he tried to step around Cedric. But Cedric moved to block his path. As he did, he felt an icy chill wash over him. Instinctively he stepped back and drew his dagger.

Hold, please, Cedric said. He could not see the stranger’s face hidden in the shadows of the hood drawn up over his head. But for the moment the stranger did not approach any closer. Cedric lowered his dagger.

I mean you no offense, he said, I would like a word..... just a word."

The stranger nodded.

You say it is time, Cedric said, But how can that be? How can it be time again so soon? Or have you forgotten? Just last year, it was late spring. The fields and the forests were green and fresh after a long winter. You came to RoseThorn. You came to this very castle. Don’t you remember? Nobody saw you. A stranger was not reported. But it must have been you. For when I returned from my journey, I found the castle in mourning.

The Lady Milona had locked herself in this tower. She would not come out. When I asked the servants, no one would tell me. They were afraid to give me the news. They would say only that someone died the night before. I suspected it was someone close, but not my children..... never my children. They had not yet seen their first birthdays. I left them bright-eyed and laughing, full of life. When I learned that not one, but both of them had died the night before, I could not believe it. Not until I went to the nursery. Not until I touched their cold, little bodies with my own hands.

Cedric fought back the tears welling up in his eyes. He waited for the stranger to say something, but he remained silent..... watching.

And before my children, there was my brother. Think back to the day you came for him. He was not yet twenty. He was young and strong and full of courage. By the heavens, he would have made a great warrior. But he fell from his horse, and instead of a broken arm you were there to catch him, weren’t you?

Still the stranger said nothing. Cedric felt anger growing in him.

And before my brother there was my mother. Do you remember that? I do. I was only a boy, just eight years of age. But you came and took her from me. God, how it broke my heart! She meant everything to me!

Cedric clenched his free hand into a fist. He felt the skin on his face tightening. I know that death must come to all things that live, he said, but why..... why is it always time for the loved ones of Cedric? Could they have not been given another year, another season, another day?

Cedric glanced up at the rafters. Through the narrow windows set high in the chamber walls he thought he could see the sky getting lighter. The healer should not be far off. He knew he needed more time. But he could think of nothing else to say.

The dark stranger reached into the folds of his robes and took out an hourglass. The glass was clouded and scratched, but inside Cedric could see that all the sand had run out of the top into the bottom.

All men live and die by the sands of time, the stranger hissed.

Cedric felt the hair on his neck bristle. The words of the stranger rang true in his heart, but he shook his head. No..... no, it proves nothing! You can just as easily turn it over and send the sand pouring back in the other direction. No! You have taken everyone from me, everyone I have loved. The Great Father would not ask this sacrifice of anyone!

The stranger replaced the glass within the folds of its robe. Now Cedric felt the moment fast approaching. He would try once more.

Tell me, he said, is it not true the Great Father asked you this very night to fly out into the world and bring Him a soul? But He did not say who. He did not mention a name. And is it not true in your haste to please Him, you found this woman lying here? And you thought how she is near enough to death, so you might as well take her and be done with the task?

The stranger shook his head. No, he hissed, it is her time.

But would not another serve as well? Cedric asked. He could hear the pleading in his voice, and he did not like it. He was a lord, not a commoner.

No, answered the stranger.

It was not the answer Cedric wanted to hear. He raised his dagger and leveled it at the stranger. He felt rage now. It filled him, threatening to spill over into his actions. I warn you! he shouted, Do not approach this woman! There was venom in his voice.

But no sooner did he raise his dagger, when he found he could not move it. In fact, he could not move his arm. He tried to step back away from the stranger, but he found he could also not move his feet. Something had seized him, a powerful force many times his own strength. He tried to turn, but he couldn’t do that either.

The dark stranger now simply moved around Cedric to the Lady Milona’s bedside. Cedric tried to shout out against him. He willed every ounce of his strength against the spell that held him frozen like a statue of stone. But he could not move. He could not speak. The only thing he could do was watch and listen.

And from the corner of his eyes, he saw the stranger remove a pair of long, shiny scissors from the folds of his robe. Cedric felt a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. The stranger bent over his wife. Then Cedric heard a crisp, clear cutting sound from the scissors.

The moment he heard it, he knew his wife was lost to him. It was over. The deed was done, and it could not be undone. As soon as he realized it, the force holding him released him. He found he could move again. He staggered forward, the dagger slipping from his sweaty hand, clanging on the stone floor. He found his voice and moaned as he dropped to his knees too exhausted to stand.

The stranger replaced the scissors within the folds of his robe and turned to face Cedric.

I will not forget this, Cedric said feeling the blood rushing from his head. The room began to spin. I cannot raise my hand against you, but with my sword I will strike down your own. I will hunt down those who draw their inspiration from you, those who steal and rob the treasures of others, and I will kill them. For the rest of my days, I will keep you busy, so you will not have time to gaze at the pretty face of my wife...

Cedric’s vision blurred. He felt blackness approaching.

Mark my words.....

Swaying Cedric reached out for something to hold onto. His hand grasped at the air, and he collapsed on the floor.

Chapter 2- Ghost in the Corridor

Cedric pulled back the bolt and threw open the tower chamber door with such force, it banged against the wall. A whiff of warm air brushed across his face. There was no guard outside the door. He stepped out into the corridor, which was known in the castle as the East Tower Corridor. Running from the Main Hall near the center of the castle to the East Tower, it was the longest corridor in the castle, tall enough for a mounted warrior and wide enough for a cart. But Cedric did not see anyone its entire length.

Guard! he shouted. Nobody came running. No footsteps could be heard, no doors opening. The corridor remained empty and quiet. Guard! Cedric shouted again, straining his voice even louder.

Cedric leaned against the wall. He felt tired and cold. He knew he had passed out on the chamber floor. And judging by the light, he guessed he must have lay there for several hours. He rubbed his arms, trying to stir the blood in them, and waited. But nobody came.

Looking back into the East Tower chamber, he saw that the candles he lit and placed along the wall had all burnt down to stubs. A few had melted into splotches of wax on the floor. He saw the bed where his wife lay several hours before. The sheets had been pulled back. It was empty. But he didn’t remember anyone coming to claim the body.

Why doesn’t anyone come?

Cedric wanted to shout again. He wanted to kick the door into the wall, but he didn’t feel like he had the strength. He felt nauseous. And the longer he stood there, the more he began to feel dizzy. A part of him wanted to sit down, just wait for somebody to come find him. But another part would not stay put. No matter how bad he felt, Cedric wanted answers.

What day is it? Where is everybody?

He pushed off from the wall and stumbled down the corridor, passing doors on his left. Each door led to a guest room. On his right, he passed a series of stained glass windows, which let light into the corridor from the garden beyond. In the days of his grandfather, paintings of his ancestors hung in the corridor. But Cedric’s mother had commissioned artisans to replace the paintings with stain-glassed windows, each depicting an important scene from the history of the Empire. The grim-looking paintings now hung in the Main Hall to watch over the meals.

Cedric knew by heart all the historical scenes portrayed in the stained glass along this corridor. As a child he studied them for hours, playing out each famous event in his imagination. As he grew older, he began to notice the symbolism. The central figure, usually a Lord King from a past age, was always positioned higher up in each scene, always near the sun and always clothed in purple, the color of majesty. His foes, dressed in darker colors, always took a lower position. Green and gold, the colors of the Empire, emanated from the each figure of the Lord King, swirling and gathering force as they prepared to crush the enemy. His mother had also made sure that somewhere in the scene the artist included plenty of red roses, the symbol of Cedric’s family.

Halfway down the corridor, he paused at an alcove to rest. The nausea passed, but he now felt the full weight of his exhaustion and leaned heavily against the wall. The alcove was empty, but he remembered it as a child always filled with boxes and crates belonging to those who visited the castle. He used to like to hide among them to spy on the guests as they walked past in the corridor.

Cedric listened to the sound of his own labored breathing. He began to feel something at the edge of his awareness. He turned his attention toward it. He felt it was something he should know. He tried to draw it out and lead it gently to the forefront of his thoughts. But it slipped away. When he tried to will it back, it would not come.

It is a black kitten, a woman's voice said, I had it brought up from the village. It is not sure if you are its friend.

Cedric turned and saw a tall, slender woman dressed in a white robe. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders. A veil covered most of her face.

Mother?

Be still. Say nothing, the lips of the woman said, Close your eyes and breathe softly. If you are patient, it will overcome its fear of you. And you will feel its soft fur against your hand.

Cedric recalled the incident. He had been a small child trying to coax a kitten out of its hiding place. He asked it to come to him. When it didn’t, he ordered it to come. His mother tried to teach him how to earn the kitten’s trust.

Mother, Milona’s gone. Death has come and taken her away, Cedric said. He opened his eyes. He was standing in the empty alcove. He looked all around him. There was nobody. And yet he felt sure he had just seen a woman, a woman in the likeness of his mother. She had his mother’s height, her hair, and her mouth. The sound of her voice still hummed in his ears. He shook his head.

A ghost? A waking dream? I am not well.

Once more Cedric started down the corridor. At the end he came to a wide door. Behind the door was the Main Hall of the castle, where he and his men usually took their meals. At this time of day there should be someone in the Main Hall, someone cleaning up or setting the tables for the next meal. At least the old man, his father’s retired servant, should be sitting in the corner by the fire.

Cedric grabbed hold of the door handle, a cold iron ring, and heaved the door open. He stepped into the doorway of the Main Hall, ready to bark out his commands. But except for a single torch flickering on the far wall, there was nothing but shadows. His gaze swept the Main Hall from one end to the other. There was nobody in the Main Hall.

It is quiet..... as quiet as the night watch. Something is wrong.

Alarmed now, Cedric found the energy to cross the Main Hall. He hurried between the rows of tables and benches. As he made his way, his frustration began to grow into anger. He kicked a chair out of his way. It went tumbling to the side, a leg breaking off. On the far side of the hall he passed through an open doorway, then another short corridor that led to the Kitchen.

Cedric wanted to shout and kick open the door to the Kitchen. Instead calmer thoughts prevailed. He stopped just outside the door and listened. It was as quiet here as in the Main Hall. He leaned into the door with his shoulder, nudging it open enough, so he could see inside. There were windows in the Kitchen, and Cedric could see the light streaming in through them. He could see pots and pans hanging on hooks along one wall, knives lined up near the chopping block. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped into the Kitchen. Immediately he caught sight of a person lying on the floor near the fire pit. It looked like one of the servant women.

Cedric started across the Kitchen toward the woman on the floor. He noticed a pot of water set out to boil, but the kindling beneath it had not been lit. He noticed a bag of flour and a jug of water sitting on the table next to a bowl. It appeared preparations for the morning meal had just gotten started.

What happened here?

He reached the woman and bent down to shake her. But suddenly he felt uneasy. He stopped, looked around, and once more listened. But there was nothing. He guessed his uneasiness must be coming from the woman on the floor and decided it best to be cautious. Finding a long, wooden stirring spoon, he crouched down