Secrets in the Shadows: More than Conquerors, #2

By Kaitlyn King

Warring Brothers, Manipulating Advisors, and Secrets in the Shadows.

 

Whispers of a silent civil war swirl through the halls of Endor.

In the wake of King Hadrian's attack, Tridan and his friends are now being exalted as heroes. But can these thirteen-year-olds save the kingdom from itself?

As Prince Altholos' coronation approaches, Prince Oliver starts his campaign to take his brother's place on the throne. Noble families are forced to choose sides and covert battles rage throughout the land.

However, the next generation of conquerors longs to do more. Can they bring peace to a castle where there are secrets in the shadows of every corridor?

 

PRAISE FOR THE MORE THAN CONQUERORS SERIES:

"The Forgotten Prince has everything you could want in a book: action, danger, royalty, etc. Great concepts, great writing, just great!!"

 

"A wonderful kingdom-adventure fantasy."

 

"You fall in love with the characters immediately."

 

MORE THAN CONQUERORS READING ORDER:

The Forgotten Prince

Secrets in the Shadows

A Year of Miracles (Coming Soon!)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen in Hand Publishing
• Release date: Sep 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215228814

Book preview

Chapter 1

TRIDAN RELAXED HIS HOLD on the reins, allowing his horse to crop the grass. He lifted his own head to the sky. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, relishing in the feel of the sun on his face. He missed this. Growing up at the Lazarus Monastery, he had spent much of his time outdoors. It had been a simple life: chores, Bible study, prayer, charity work... All that had changed when Tridan’s eldest brother, Josef, was killed in battle. Tridan, as well as all others his age, were required to return to Endor to prepare to be conquerors like the rest of the kingdom.

Though it had been a year, the walls of Castle Endor still had a tendency to feel suffocating. He reached down and patted the neck of his white gelding, a present from his father. Most people wouldn’t think twice of a king giving such a gift to his son, but those who knew King Ulric recognized the horse for what it was: a reward. Tridan had been instrumental in driving out the invading force led by his maternal uncle, King Hadrian of Samavia. It was he who had confronted his uncle in the throne room. In the end, Hadrian had been defeated. However, it was later reported that he had escaped from the dungeon through the infamous bear cave that guarded the not-so-secret exit. Tridan knew firsthand how difficult that was. Deep down, he prayed his uncle had made it, and would return peacefully to Samavia.

Taking one more deep breath, he sighed and lifted his horse’s head. That’s enough dawdling, boy. Time to get back. I’m supposed to meet the others in the library.

Kicking the gelding with his heels, he smiled, drinking in the pleasure of flying over the grassy hills toward the castle.

JAZMINE MOVED QUICKLY down the crowded corridor. Her silent footfalls were a result of many years as the kingdom’s first and only huntress. She was used to being invisible both in the woods and here at court, which was why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a passing noble called a greeting to her.

Good morning, Jazmine.

Unsure of how to respond, Jazmine merely nodded, and kept walking.

Nice to see you, Jazmine, someone shouted from one of the castle’s many sitting rooms.

Her head whipped back at the sound, but her pace didn’t slow, resulting in her tripping over the hem of her long, emerald gown. Her face flamed. She hurried away, inwardly scolding herself for choosing a day dress over her customary hunting, split skirt. She moved much more comfortably (and much more unobtrusively) in it.

As she passed another salon, it happened again. In fact, it had been happening a lot lately. Ever since she helped save the castle, people suddenly knew who she was. She felt exposed! This was a weird sensation for someone who was used to blending into the background.

Without realizing it, she quickened her steps.

Hey, Jazmine! a male voice belted behind her.

She broke out in a sprint. Rounding the corner, she crashed through the inconspicuous door, slamming it shut behind her.

EMELINE BLINKED IN surprise as Jazmine sagged with relief against the rough wood. Are you alright?

Jazmine met her gaze, nodded once, then pushed herself up and finished entering the room.

Emeline rolled her eyes. She was no longer shocked by the huntress’ taciturn replies. Personally, she thought the girl spent way too much time alone in the forest.

Tridan came through the door a moment later. He waved a greeting to each of them, then went to his corner.

Inwardly, Emeline sighed over the loss of her once-secret library. It had been her oasis for most of last year, but when life had become stressful for Tridan, Zoran, and Jazmine after the Red Tower incident, she had happily given them refuge. Since that night, it had become their unofficial headquarters.

Each member had carved out their own spot. Emeline had kept her window seat, and added a small table, and comfortable sitting chair to the space. It had been quite amusing to watch Tridan and Zoran haul the furniture in there for her. To avoid making multiple trips, they had stacked the table on top of the chair. With Zoran facing backwards, and Tridan carrying the back of the chair, neither one could actually see to navigate the halls. Many sconces were knocked down as they juggled the furniture and bumped into the walls. Luckily, servants didn’t come to this part of the castle or there would have been some uncomfortable questions to answer. In the end, they had delivered the items for Emeline’s new reading corner without injury, and she had agreed to pick up the mess they had made in the process.

Jazmine’s nest resided in the far corner. Emeline really couldn’t call it anything else. The circle of pillows and blankets remained from the night of the invasion. The huntress could often be found lounging in the center, and nonchalantly repairing the fletching of her arrows. Above her, Jazmine’s hunting hawk, Shae, had built her own nest out of leaves and twigs. Emeline tried arduously to ignore the amount of nature that now threatened her beloved books.

To Emeline’s right was Tridan’s space. It consisted of a simple, wooden desk and chair. Every day, Zoran and Emeline delighted in adding things to his area: a vase of flowers, a couple of books, a pillow on his chair; and by the end of the night, it was all cleaned off once again. She doubted they would ever break the habits he had developed at the monastery.

Opposite of Jazmine’s corner was Zoran’s workbench. Unlike Tridan, Zoran had proven to be a very messy worker. Weapons in various levels of completion were strewn across the surface. Tridan often teased that he had no idea how Zoran could concentrate amongst the clutter.

At the moment, as he slammed his tools around, the dark-haired boy was the only one making any noise in the library.

Emeline sunk down into her chair and tried to focus on the book she was reading.

ZORAN DROPPED A SWORD he was repairing and observed each of his friends jump out of the corner of his eye. He winced in apology. It had been nearly three months since the invasion, but Zoran noticed the others still seemed sensitive to loud noises. Perhaps they would always be. He wished he could figure out a way to help them.

The bells from the Infinity Church began to chime, alerting Zoran of the hour. Suddenly, he brightened. He knew the perfect distraction for his frazzled friends.

Grab your cloaks, everyone! he called, making them all flinch again.

Where are we going? Emeline asked.

He smirked impishly. It’s a surprise.

Chapter 2

ZORAN LED THE WAY from the castle through the lower town, and into the Shambles. The nobles at court mocked the Piceous family for the location of their estate, but Zoran didn’t care. He was glad the king hadn’t moved them to the Upper Town. The Shambles had always been his home, and he was proud of the two-story house where his family now lived. As they neared it, his sister, Jaquelyn leaned out the upper window and squealed.

He smiled in return and glanced back to see his friends all doing the same. His plan was working. Seconds later, the door was thrown open, and a bundle of energy came tearing out at them.

Easy, Jaquey, he admonished with a grin. You’ll scare the high-born.

Emeline stuck her tongue out at him. Don’t listen to him. She threw her arm around Jaquey’s shoulders. It’s perfectly natural for you to be excited to see the heroes of Endor.

Tridan groaned. Did you have to use that title?

Emeline pretended to contemplate his question before responding, Yes!

Zoran’s mother laughed from the doorway. Well, come on in, heroes.

Everyone followed her inside, and Jaquey pulled Emeline and Jazmine up the stairs to her room. Zoran watched them go, then greeted the rest of his siblings. His older brother, Peyton, was covered in sweat and soot, having just finished work at the forge. Kaylien, Anne, Zane, and Alys sat at the table and stared at Tridan. After all this time, the young prince still fascinated them.

Zoran heard a shriek and some giggles from above. His heart squeezed. The fame he had acquired last year had driven a substantial amount of business to his brother’s smithy. That, combined with his winnings from the joust, was just enough to allow Jaquelyn to start her training this year. He’d have to remember to thank Jazzy and Em for being nice to her. Hopefully, she would have an easier time fitting into castle life than he had.

JAQUELYN FOLDED HER second-best dress and laid it in her small trunk. Her hazel eyes shifted to where Emeline and Jazmine were packing up brushes and hair ties. Her long, dark hair was thick and wavy. Often, she had to use several ribbons tied along her ponytail to keep it manageable throughout the day.

Look, Jazmine, Emeline suddenly cried in a teasing tone, a comb! Maybe Jaquey will let you borrow it later and you can do something about the tangles in your hair.

I can think of something to do with it right now, Jazmine nearly snarled in response.

Emeline smirked smugly, but Jaquey noticed she moved an arm’s length away. Jazmine caught on to this as well.

You know that wouldn’t be far enough away if I had my bow with me. The corners of Jazmine’s mouth turned up slightly.

But you don’t, so I’m safe. Emeline shrugged.

Without warning, Jazmine scooped up one of the ribbons and a hair pin. Fashioning it into a miniature bow, she shot the pin at Emeline, who jumped and squealed as the object hit her midsection.

Jaquey giggled at their antics. Her eyes widened as Emeline grabbed one of Alys’ shoes and held it threateningly above her head. She stepped between them, but not before Emeline had hurled the shoe at Jazmine...who had simply ducked and allowed the shoe to fly harmlessly over her head.

Truce! Truce! Jaquey cried, hoping to put a stop to the flying objects. If Ma came up to check on them, she would no doubt blame her for this.

The two girls shrugged and went back to packing while she tried to hide her sigh of relief. It had taken a lot to convince her mother to let Jaquey start training, and she didn’t need anything messing that up.

A thrill of excitement ran up her spine. She couldn’t believe today was finally here! She was moving to the castle to be the first Lady Piceous. Nothing would stop her from making her family proud of her.

Folding up the last of her newer dresses, she rushed to cover her more threadbare articles of clothing. Unfortunately, the others saw her actions and smiled sympathetically. Her ears started to burn. She hated pity.

Jazmine laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. I didn’t have a lot of gowns when I first came to the castle either. Still don’t, in fact.

Emeline nodded in agreement. And I know a great dress maker who bargains. I’m sure she can work something out with you.

Jaquey brightened. Maybe she could help the woman in exchange for more frocks. She made a mental note to seek her out as soon as possible.

Hey, what’s this? Emeline asked, holding up a strange contraption.

Jaquey straightened with pride. It’s a new weapon Zoran, Peyton, and I have been working on. You hold on to the handle here in the middle and use the blades on both sides by rolling your wrist around like this.

The two girls stared in amazement...until Jaquey heard a familiar rip and realized she had torn her sleeve...again. She sighed. There are still a few design flaws though.

That’s okay, it’s still really interesting, Emeline rushed to assure her.

Thanks. Jaquey slipped the covers over the blades and added it to her trunk. Zoran and I take the ‘Weapon’s Masters’ title quite seriously. We want the king to see he made a good choice choosing our family.

So that’s what the weapon’s graveyard in the library is for?! Emeline exclaimed. Jazmine snorted at her description. Maybe you two can come up with something special for each of us too.

Jaquey looked between her brother’s friends, and Jazmine nodded in agreement. She stepped back and eyed them critically. I’m seeing matching double-arrow bows.

Jazmine and Emeline exchanged a look of disgust.

Jaquey bit back a laugh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep thinking about it.

You girls ready? Zoran called from the stairwell.

Jaquey felt her stomach flip. Yes, she replied a little breathlessly.

He and Tridan came up to retrieve her trunk. She followed them down and gave each of her siblings a hug.

Her mother took their place and held on to her a bit longer. She wished she could assure her she would be fine, but the words seemed to clog in her throat. Jaquey pulled away and tried not to notice the tears in everyone’s eyes.

Tridan opened the front door with a flourish and a bow. After you.

Jaquey practically bounced over the threshold, all thoughts of hesitancy now banished from her mind.

Chapter 3

OLIVER SLAMMED THE GATEHOUSE door behind him. Fuming, he stomped down the stairs and out into the town streets. He couldn’t believe he was being sent like a common servant to retrieve his brother, Altholos, the soon-to-be crown prince of Endor, from a pub! This was an insult!

Just an hour ago, Oliver had been sitting at his father’s right-hand in the council chambers. The heads of each family surrounded the table. In the balcony, the queens sat on their thrones with their personal crests overhead. There used to be one more – Queen Alainor, mother of Josef and Tridan – but she had died many years ago. It hadn’t taken long for her chair to be removed. The other queens had seen to that. There were three of them now. Queen Millicent was Altholos and Thea’s mother. She had thick auburn hair, and a penchant for wearing gold regalia. Queen Beatrix was a former member of the Beryl family and the mother of Gerard and Gerald. Queen Joselyn was his own mother, as well as Cassius’. Like his strange little brother, she could be a bit odd at times. Luckily, she never noticed when the courtiers were making fun of her.

Seated next to Oliver were the twins, though they were obviously not paying attention. Gerard’s forehead had beads of perspiration trickling down it, and Gerald had a vein pulsing in his neck. (Or vice-versa. Like everyone else, he couldn’t tell the two apart, and didn’t care to try.) They each had an arm subtly twitching. Finally, Oliver realized they were thumb wrestling under the table. He shook his head in disgust.

Off in her own little corner, surrounded by her constant retinue of soldiers, Thea was slouching in her chair. Though Oliver could tell by the way her eyes flicked from speaker to speaker that she wasn’t missing a word of the discussion.

Cassius had elected to show his disciple side today, wearing the traditional, brown robe of the Infinity Church, and was seated at Brother Aaron’s side in the religious advice section.

And, of course, between Oliver and the king was a painfully obvious hole where his older brother was supposed to be. Altholos had missed another council meeting.

After his father adjourned the meeting, he motioned Oliver over. His chest had swelled with pride. His brother’s folly may just be his opportunity to ingratiate himself into their father’s good graces – a feat he had been attempting for years. With each step, he imagined what could possibly be asked of him. Most likely, he would be asked to attend the meeting with the Xanthous leaders.

Each family had their own assemblages, and normally, only members of their family and the king were allowed to attend. With Altholos’ new position in line for the throne, he was supposed to start attending these meetings as well, but since he wasn’t here...

The king was scowling. Knowing the anger wasn’t directed toward him, Oliver ignored it.

Yes, Father?

Go fetch your brother from whatever tavern he has decided to frequent this evening.

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. Surely you’re jesting.

King Ulric’s eyebrows drew even closer together. I assure you; I am not in a jesting mood. Do you wish to try my patience further?

Eager to avoid his father’s wrath, Oliver quickly retreated.

He grumbled with each step he took through the dusty streets to his brother’s favorite haunt. Pushing through the front door, he recoiled as the smell of cheap ale and unwashed bodies assaulted his nose.

Altholos sat in a corner surrounded by his friends and a gaggle of barmaids. Oliver rolled his eyes. He crossed the pub, taking care not to touch any of the sticky tables or the riff raff sitting at them.

Upon arrival, Oliver crossed his arms and glared at his brother. Altholos belched in response.

Through gritted teeth, Oliver hissed, Father wishes to see you.

Altholos waved a dismissive hand and raised his tankard to his lips.

Oliver lunged forward, ripping it away and throwing it against the wall. He wants to see you now!

The patrons had all fallen silent. Their eyes darted between the princes to where the brown liquid trickled down the wall.

Altholos stared back at Oliver, his countenance full of hatred. He blinked twice, then started giggling. After a moment, the rest of his party joined in.

Well, I guess if it’s important enough to waste good ale, then I’d better go. He rose to his feet, pitching forward and then back as he tried to find his balance. He took three steps before stumbling and falling onto one of the barmaids. She laughed and helped him to the door.

As they reached the entrance, Altholos suddenly leaned over to the side and vomited. Oliver wrinkled his nose in revulsion. Pathetic! This was the future king of their country? Altholos wasn’t fit to be the leader of a herd of sheep! Oliver hadn’t been that fond of Josef. He had been too idealistic and heavenly minded, but at least his high morals had kept him sober.

Altholos wiped his mouth with his sleeve, smearing slime and spittle all over his beard. He belched again, then began staggering down the street proclaiming loudly, Make way for Prince Altholos!

SIR LEON STRETCHED his stiff leg beneath the table. Pain shot through his hip. He stifled a grimace. This was what happened now when he sat for too long. Unfortunately, he was currently in another one of these inane meetings for the Xanthous elders. They were trying to find something to do with him since he had been officially restored in favor in the eyes of the king. This, of course, meant hours and hours of discussion. (Even longer than the average person would consider necessary, but this was the Xanthous family, the court lawyers, after all.) Each member in attendance had been trained their entire lives to dispute the same point from all sides. This made it extremely difficult for him to tell what his brethren were actually thinking.

It must be considered, said his father who had decided to come out of retirement to attend these special meetings, that with Leon’s restoration comes the expectation that he will assume his rightful position as High Chancellor.

Leon rolled his eyes. This argument had been brought up and dismissed five times already.

An exaggerated sigh came from the head of the table. The current High Chancellor, Leon’s cousin, Sir Reynard, had taken over when he had been cast out; and from the way he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he had no intentions of relinquishing it.

Everyone else was grumbling. They were obviously tired of this suggestion as well.

Any other ideas? Reynard yawned as he posed the question for perhaps the hundredth time.

I don’t suppose anyone would care what I want, Leon said, not quite under his breath. Twenty heads swiveled to stare at him. Their eyes practically pinned him to his chair.

After a moment of silence, Reynard answered, No, we don’t.

What did you have in mind?

Everyone at the table leapt to their feet at the sound of the king’s voice. Leon was slightly slower than the others on account of his still-recovering leg falling asleep once again. They all bowed as Ulric stalked to their table. They had been unsure if he would be in attendance this time. Especially since this was the third meeting on the subject.

"So, Leon, if you don’t wish to be my High Chancellor, then what do you want?"

Leon covered his discomfort from all the eyes staring at him by clearing his throat. Surely they were all thinking the same thing: Who wouldn’t want to be the number one advisor to the king? But Leon had the future of Endor in mind.

Choosing his words carefully, he replied, The intention of the ‘Conqueror Training Academy’ was to provide unified instruction to the next generation. Everyone nodded as they remembered the king’s words a year ago today as he announced the start of the program. But that didn’t happen through the constant rotation of mentors.

King Ulric raised a bushy eyebrow.

Sir Leon knew how dangerous it was to go after the king’s pet project. They didn’t call Ulric the Great and Terrible, for nothing. Still, Leon had to try.

Therefore, I would like to request to be appointed a new position: Headmaster of the training academy. There. It had been said.

Silence stretched through the Xanthous meeting room. No one moved, no one blinked, no one even breathed.

Finally, after an inordinate amount of time, King Ulric shrugged. Very well, Leon. The position is yours. 

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE him cleaned up by the ceremony tonight, Oliver shouted to the servants as they dragged Altholos from the side entrance, and down the hall towards his quarters. He wiped his hands on his tunic, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed, but it was no use. He was going to have to change as well thanks to his idiot brother. His hair was probably disheveled after Altholos had tripped over nothing in the middle of an empty road and fallen onto him. He started towards his own room.

Quite the embarrassing situation, isn’t it? a voice asked as he passed an alcove.

Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin. Who’s there? he called, growling to cover the slight quiver.

The High Chancellor stepped into the light of the flickering torches.

Oh, Reynard, it’s you. What are you doing skulking in the shadows like that?

My apologies, Your Highness, the Xanthous leader replied, giving a full bow that was normally reserved for only the king. I just happened to stop here on my way to the gardens, and noticed the delicate condition the soon-to-be crown prince was returning in.

Oliver glowered. You should have seen him in the tavern.

Sir Reynard shook his head. It’s a shame that our children have to look forward to living under his rule.

Oliver couldn’t even imagine it. How could Josef be so selfish