The Paladin's Lament: The Paladin's Sin, #0

By Jessica Kemery

He must make a decision that will define the rest of his life. Will he be able to overcome his doubts and take the final step to become a mighty paladin?

Rordan has trained with his brother in arms his entire childhood. Finally, nearing the end of his education, he faces a choice that will bind him forever to the Temple. He will lose his freedom but will gain honor and prestige as an elite paladin knight. But a disastrous training mission pulls the curtain off the order, and he is left wondering if a lifetime of guilt is worth it.

Sent to serve an angry king, he witnesses the king's violence firsthand. Their first mission leaves him confused and broken, and the only solace he finds is in prayers and the arms of his forbidden love.

Can Rordan make peace with himself, or will his mental anguish tear him apart?

The Paladin's Lament is the prequel to the Paladin's Sin series. If you love Sword and Sorcery Fantasy with a sweet romantic couple, you will love Jessica Kemery's action-filled world.

Read the book today, and join the paladin on his path to redemption!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hot Mess Express Publishing
• Release date: Jul 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215495292

Jessica Kemery

Called by some a multi-tasking ninja, Jessica Kemery lives in Crystal Lake, Illinois, where she works a day job so that her dog, Rocky, can live a life of pampered luxury. The Hobbit is the first book she read, and she has been searching for dragons ever since. She has two teenagers who firmly believe their mother is slightly unhinged and roll their eyes every time she starts playing the greatest hits of the '80s. She also has a husband who dreams of becoming her business manager one day when she "makes it big." Powered by caffeine and the bare minimum of sleep on a nightly basis, she thinks the world's greatest invention is meal delivery services.

Book preview

Chapter 1

VALLEY OF DEATH

Rordan Armond reported for morning prayers, falling to his knees on the cold stone of the cathedral just as the sun was casting a rainbow of colors through the stained glass. As the Master intoned the Latin morning mass, his mind wandered as he watched red, blue, and yellow splashes of colors creep over the bodies, kneeling in supplication.  

His lips moved along with the responses, but he had been saying these same prayers nearly every morning since he was a small frightened boy, sent to the Temple by his father, Lord Daniel Armond. He could say these prayers in his sleep, and sometimes he did.

Introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui lætificat iuventutem meam, the Master intoned, resplendent in his purple vestments, looking over his assembled paladins and students with serenity. They were nearly two hundred holy men strong. The might of the Temple was at his fingertips.

Rordan tried not to chuckle at those words, translated they meant, I will go to the altar of God: to God who gives joy to my youth. Unfortunately, none of them had a joyous childhood. Training at the Temple had been difficult and mentally challenging. There was no fun, no childhood games that didn’t involve competition, pain, and near death.  

He rose from the ground and made his way into the dark wooden pew, sitting next to Zach Demilo, Dean Torn, Brandon Duchard, and Augustus Shill. They were all in the same year; they were brothers, if not by blood, then forged by the hardships they had all faced while students at the Temple. Nearing their eighteenth year and the end of their training, they soon would all take the oath. 

Their first assignment was likely to be Castle Eastmere, as it was customary for new paladins to serve in the king’s service. The Master would choose only best of the best to begin their service as priests, the stern men who trained and taught the novices and apprentices in the art of magic and warfare.  

There was some gossip among them all that Rordan was destined for the priesthood. In fact, it seemed the Master had taken a liking to the young apprentice. Even now, he smiled in Rordan’s direction and nodded as the prayers ended, and the young men stood up to kiss the Master’s hand before leaving to start their day.

Rordan, please see me later, the Master said as Rordan’s lips dryly pressed onto the man’s limp hand.

Yes, Master Simeon. Should I bring your book back? Rordan said quickly so as not to hold up the line.

No, keep it for a bit longer. We will just practice tonight, Master Simeon said as he moved off. His friends noted the Master had not chosen them for extra lessons, but then again, Rordan was the most talented magic user currently studying at the Temple.

He hurried through the church with his friends, keeping quiet to avoid annoying priest Cassius, who strictly enforced the no-talking rule. In fact, he was currently beating a young novice off to the side with his cane. You will LEARN, boy! There is NO talking when the Master gives us the word of the Lord. How dare you! he screamed, his arm moving in a steady beat as the novice stifled back tears and took his punishment like a man. 

The apprentices reported to the training grounds after their school day for sword lessons. Rordan pulled off his robe to reveal his apprentice leather armor, burnished and gleaming underneath. He took great pride in his armor and weapons, making sure everything was just so. His blue eyes glinted as he surveyed his peers and wondered what torment the priest would inflict on this day.

Alarmingly, a large crate sat in the middle of the dusty training grounds, and a roar emanated from inside that sent chills down Rordan’s spine.  

We have a special treat for you today, Cassius chuckled. This section of the training we usually do with more local species, but the King of Norrse sent this as a gift to our king from his own personal menagerie. King Corcoran has no need for a Norrse Bear, so he sent him to us to practice with.

A Norrse Bear? What is that? Augustus said, looking worried while clutching his sword tightly in his hand. He pushed back his eyeglasses, shooting Rordan a worried glance. Augustus was the shortest of them all and the weakest fighter. He struggled to master weapons of any type. He wasn’t a fighter, instead preferring to bury himself in books.

If anyone deserves to be a priest, it is Augustus, not me, Rordan thought as they formed a line.    

Rordan always took it easy on his friend and tried to pair up with him in training exercises. Unfortunately, this didn’t appear to be a group project. Rordan was third in line behind him. He would have preferred Augustus to be farther back in line, so they wore out the bear before it was his turn, but Cassius smirked as he stood near the bear’s cage.

He’s properly hungry and angry, and we will take turns fighting him. When I say next, the next person in line will step up. Try not to kill it right away. I want to make sure you all get a turn, Cassius said. In fact, if this bear dies before the halfway point, there will be repercussions. This is an exercise in wearing your opponent down, he bellowed and gripped his beloved cane, which hung on his belt. Before he opened the gate, they were each given a small shield to use as a defense. 

As the crate door creaked open, a massive white bear ambled out, blinking in the sunlight. Dean Torn stepped up. He made an impressive figure, with his fiery red hair and intense green eyes. Dean was a brawler, and Rordan thought he was an excellent choice to start this fight.

The bear’s eyes narrowed as it sniffed the air and spotted Dean. It was lean, too lean for a bear, and Rordan wondered when the last time they had fed this thing. Drool dripped from its long sharp teeth. The beast looked desperate.

Dean quickly moved to the bear's right, bringing up his small shield. In a flash, the Norrse bear charged. His arm moved lightning fast, and the sword slashed across the bear’s face.

With a howl, the bear rose on its hind legs, its claws raking toward him. Dean raised his shield, and the sound of the bear’s claws across the metal was grating.

The bear retreated, pacing just out of reach, and Dean stopped to consider his opponent. He wasn’t even sure he could get close enough to the bear to stab it in the heart, he would have to wear this creature down, bit by bit, but before he could advance to attack, Cassius spoke, Very good, Dean. NEXT!

Dean stepped back, looking at Augustus worriedly. This was not where their friend shone, but he would have to do this alone. There could be no interference from the others.

Augustus had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He gripped his sword with white knuckles. Perhaps sensing his fear, the bear roared and charged again. Augustus swung wildly, forgetting about his shield. He somehow connected with the bear’s front leg, and it stumbled before retreating again.

Good, good, Augustus. Don’t forget your shield! Rordan called out, and Cassius shot him an evil look.  

Augustus looked down at his shield, remembering he had one. In that instant of distraction, the bear moved to his right side almost faster than the eye could track. In a state of confusion, Augustus did not bring his sword arm up but turned his body, intending to block with the shield.

But the bear was too fast. It was on him instantly, its claws ripping and its teeth biting. Augustus let out a blood-curdling scream as the bear wounded him. He crumpled on the ground, his shield falling uselessly out of his hand.  

Get up! Cassius screamed, the cords on his neck standing out, but he did not move to assist. Instead, he watched how his student would react. He could heal the boy, and sometimes he taught his best lessons with pain.

Augustus got to his feet, blood flowing quickly from his shoulder, his right arm hung uselessly at his side. He grabbed the sword with his other hand and brought it up just in time to swat at the bear. But not being a natural lefty and having never mastered using a sword in his off-hand, his strike was weak. The bear licked its lips, his white muzzle now covered with bright red blood.

It lunged again with a massive roar, and Augustus could not defend himself. The bear roared and charged, meeting the boy straight on. As the bear opened his mouth and clamped it around the boy’s neck, Rordan moved forward. His hand outstretched, sparks appeared, dancing over his fingers playfully. But Rordan was not playing. He drew his hand back and threw the bolts directly into the bear’s face.   

The bolts merged in mid-flight, glowing with the intensity of the energy contained within. Fueled by Rordan’s alarm, they grew bigger and brighter before hitting the target. The bear dropped with only a whimper, its colossal body sprawled across Augustus’s legs. The boy laid still and silent on the ground, his fingers clawing at the gushing wound on his neck.  

Well, you killed the bear. Cassius’s eyes turned angrily to Rordan before he crossed the field and knelt beside Augustus. Cassius held his hands out to heal the boy, but hissed quickly and pulled them back. Alas, it’s too late. The bear must have hit a vital spot. Your friend is all but gone. The darkness is too great.  

No! Rordan yelled, rushing to Augustus’s side. I’m sorry, Augustus! Tears were in his eyes. And he held his hands out, quickly mumbling the healing prayers. He felt the blackness of the injury surrounding his friend, threatening to pull him in. He could not save his friend without losing himself. He withdrew his magic and collapsed on the ground next to his friend, sobbing.

Augustus reached out his hands for him, Rordan, save me! he gurgled as blood rushed out of his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he lost consciousness.

Brandon, your turn is next. Before he dies, I want you all to try to save him, Cassius said, pointing to the boy’s unconscious body.

Brandon hurried forward and tried his healing magic, the glow emanating from his hands as he mumbled the healing prayers. Hades, Brandon whispered and then looked up frantically, He needs last rites.

No time for that, Christopher, you next, Cassius said, motioning to the boy behind him.

Christopher gulped and moved forward, trying in vain to heal Augustus. While he failed, Rordan pulled himself together. He moved to the other side of his friend, tears still rolling down his face. I’m giving him prayers, he said with firmness, looking at Cassius. He knew he was already in trouble. He might as well just add to the list. He leaned over and kissed Augustus’ head. He was already slipping away.  

Another boy moved forward at Cassius’s direction, who just stood with a grim smile on his face as boy after boy failed to heal Augustus. But the priest made no move to stop Rordan or do the prayers himself, so he continued. He dabbed blood on his finger from the copious amounts pooled around his friend, touching Augustus’s forehead, then his chest, then his left shoulder, and then his right. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen, Rordan said, choking back tears. He gently held his friend’s hand. The least he could do was be with him as he passed into the valley of the shadow of death.

All the students had taken a turn, and they were now a weeping mess. Dean Torn was now kneeling next to Rordan. He tried healing Augustus himself and turned away as he also failed.  

When Augustus’s hand went slack in his, Rordan knew he was dead, and he closed his eyes as