Queens of Glass, Stone & Iron: Tyrants Fall Trilogy

By Tommy L Barton

Three queens. Three kingdoms. One queen must defend against powerful invaders. Another must find a way to end the political strife within her borders. The last queen sits in her dark temple, breeding a monster, and must be stopped at any cost. An unlikely group of heroes must fight to defend the innocent people caught in the middle. Will the heroes prevail? Can any of the three queens survive and hold onto their rule?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tommy Barton
• Release date: Apr 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223388890

Tommy L Barton

Tommy L. Barton grew up in the heart of South Carolina where he read til the wee hours of the morning when it was too hot to sleep, or he just had to know what happened to the hero.  Reading has always been a passion for Tommy, which explains how he even married a librarian.  It has been a lifelong dream of his to share his own stories with the world.  Tommy currently lives in the much cooler but no less weird state of Oregon.

Book preview

Chapter One

The dungeon smelled like rotten cabbage. Zenith Alexander, former king of Erimos, sat on a mattress full of hay. He missed comfortable beds packed with goose feathers. He missed the Cornish hens dressed in gravy, and the apple pies, even the thought of salad made his mouth water. The idea of fresh greens and an assortment of crisp vegetables drove him mad. A small smile creased his face. The fact that a garden salad made him drool told him he was in a crisis. He felt his stomach rumble. He sighed and threw another small stone into the soup bowl in the corner. It plinked and settled in the bottom, which meant his aim was improving. Three out of five so far today. He watched the sunbeam slowly crawl to the bottom of the stone wall. Dinner arrived when the beam stretched across the seam of the floor.

Zenith considered the vagaries of life. A madman, an upstart duke, and the duke’s daughter shaped the very fabric of Zenith’s current existence. A potioner turned madman had killed his entire royal family. Zenith’s younger brother had been the king of Erimos. Zenith had never wanted the trappings of power associated with being king. His brother, groomed since the age of ten, ruled the peaceful kingdom of Erimos instead. Zenith’s brother had died a gruesome death at the hands of a potioner, the madman, whom Zenith had personally recommended to take his place as the king’s Master Potioner. As for the duke, he used treachery as a weapon to take the kingdom when Zenith’s brother died. Stephen, Zenith’s adopted son, had stopped the duke’s plan in its tracks. Stephen had assassinated the foul-mannered Duke Kedwin, but Zenith did not see the serpent in the weeds. Duke Kedwin’s daughter had stolen the kingdom from Zenith with a military coup. Afraid for his life, Zenith had transformed into a pterodactyl to escape the young woman’s wrath. A pterodactyl has a pea-sized brain, making it hard for Zenith to formulate a plan beyond flying South and escaping. Zenith hadn’t known how far the dinosaur could fly in twenty-four hours, the duration of the transformative potion he drank. Now, he threw another stone into the ceramic bowl.

Gruels on, said the jailer. Fabio slopped maize gruel into the bowl held by Zenith through the bars of the jail cell. I found a couple of pieces of chicken in the pot.

Thank you, replied Zenith. In the three months of his imprisonment, Zenith had lost over a hundred pounds of fat. Once jolly and fat before he had found his way to the dungeon, the homespun clothes he wore now hung on him like rags. The dirt and grime had worked their way into the very fabric of his skin. Once clean and neat, his dirty beard and hair lay on his face like matted strings.

You have a visitor today, said Fabio. Leaning down, Fabio said in a conspiratorial whisper, An acolyte named Hagen wants to speak to you.

Zenith stopped shoving maize in his mouth and asked, Who is he?

A minor functionary. Not someone who could reliably help you but be respectful. He is a priest.

Zenith nodded assent. Fabio had been the only contact in Zenith’s world since he had awakened in his cell. For some reason, Fabio had always been polite and informative to Zenith. Fabio, over the past three months, spoke to Zenith every day. When Zenith first arrived, Fabio had answered all of Zenith’s questions to the best of his limited abilities. Fabio was a simpleton. He could only answer basic questions. Zenith learned the prison’s name was Calakmul. Fabio described the city they were in, which he called Tikal. A beautiful city made of stone and stucco. The city of Tikal was in the kingdom of Yucatec. The people were the Yucatec Maya. Even though Fabio was a jailer, he had been kind to Zenith. Zenith thought of him as a friend.

A short man approached the cell. Dressed in a robe of blue silk, Hagen wore a wooden mask with jade inlay. Hollowed-out holes served for the eyes, and the mouth had what looked like engraved fangs for teeth. On the top of the mask, tufts of wiry pig’s hair hid the man’s bald head.

The acolyte’s mask garbled his speech. In a voice that seemed to echo in on itself, the man asked, Are you a priest?

Standing next to the bars of his cage, Zenith responded, I once was a king.

A king is useless. There are many kings in this world.

I am also a Master Potioner, said Zenith quietly. I control magics of force or healing.

That we could use, said Hagen. I will speak to my High Priest, Eadrich. Your life is in danger. Queen Dacey wants to sacrifice you to the god Hunhau. We will speak again if you prove to be valuable.

How can I prove that I am valuable?

I will ask my High Priest, said Hagen. Don’t worry. You will either be dead tomorrow or a member of the Izamna sect.

As the priest walked away, Zenith asked, What is the Izamna?

Over his shoulder, the priest answered, Maybe your salvation.

Zenith watched the priest until he turned the corner. Holding on to the bars of his cell, Zenith fell to his knees and slowly cried in frustration. As the tears fell, rivulets of clean skin marked his face.

As the sun set, Zenith tested the bars of his prison window seven feet high in the air. His best guess was that the bars were wood encased in hard leather. That meant they were unbreakable without tools. He sat down in a corner and cooed softly. At the sound of his voice, and now that the cell was safely dark, a dinosaur the size of a mouse scurried out from a small hole in the wall. The starlight cast just enough light for Zenith to see the small green scales of the dinosaur. It was bipedal with a long neck. Holding a piece of cooked chicken in his hand, Zenith fed the small, harmless thing. After eating, the dinosaur curled up on Zenith’s lap. Zenith slowly stroked the tiny head and delicate backbone. The scales felt slippery under his fingers, but it calmed Zenith’s nerves. Zenith did not want to name it; afraid it would disappear. Zenith leaned his head against the stone wall and peered at the stars in the window. He did not recognize any of the constellations. He feared he was in a dangerous land. A society that worshiped a death god and made human sacrifices flummoxed Zenith. He would have to tread carefully. Any help from the priests would come with unfathomable costs. Zenith reconciled his feelings. Death or freedom lay ahead tomorrow. He just hoped it included a bath.

Zenith woke up with a start. His heart in his chest beat rapidly. It was the middle of the night. The moonlight pressed between the bars, lighting up the small jail cell. Zenith did not move in the dark as he lay on the straw mattress and tried to discern what could have awoken him. Scanning the cell, he saw the ceramic bowl in one corner and a piss pot in the other corner. The cell dimensions were paltry, barely ten by ten. His eyes adjusted to the gloom, and Zenith could see a flicker of light outside his cell. Trying to hear over his hammering heart, Zenith listened intently. He could barely make out voices coming from down the hall. He recognized Fabio’s voice but not the other person’s voice. The light began to sharpen as two figures marched down the hall. Fabio was holding a torch to light the passage for a priest. The priest stopped in front of the jail cell. He wore a green silk robe and a pair of leather sandals on his feet. Like the other priest, he wore an intricate mask. A carving of a demon face decorated the surface of the mask. Flecks of jade and touches of gold paint enhanced the contours of the sides. The eyes of the mask were big circles carved into the wood, while the bottom ended in jagged teeth. The firelight played across the surface of the mask in the eerie darkness, making it seem fluid and alive.

The priest spoke first. He said, Are you awake?

Zenith sat up in bed and said, Just barely. Who are you?

I am the High Priest, Eadrich. I wanted to speak to you before the ruling about your fate in the morning. I want to know if I should save your life.

Feel free to ask me anything, said Zenith.

Is a potioner a priest in your land?

No. Potioners wield magic. We concoct potions that can heal the sick or imbue a person with magical powers.

You landed on the sacrificial table on the highest pyramid in our city. You transformed from a pterodactyl to a man. Some believe you are a type of God. Others think you are a demon sent from Hunhau to punish us.

I am just a man. A lost and confused man.

Why should I save your life?

I would be indebted to you. I will not leave your side until I have paid that debt. I will be faithful to you, but I will not use my powers to hurt the innocent.

You do not know our ways.

No, but I could learn.

I belong to the Izamna sect. We are a peaceful clan dedicated to helping the people of our city. The Kan sect wants you dead. They only listen to our Queen, Dacey. Her power enthralls them. Lucky for you, we do not currently have an Ajaw for the city.

What is an Ajaw?

He is a war captain. The leader of our fierce warriors and the ruler of the city. Queen Dacey murdered our last Ajaw. The priests will vote for a new Ajaw. After that, your fate will depend on the vote of the clans. I do not know if I can persuade enough priests to come to your aid in the vote.

What do you want from me?

Eadrich leaned against the bars and whispered, I need you to kill the evil Queen Dacey. She has been an unholy blight on our people for the past couple of hundred years. The Kan sect wishes to learn her secret of long life. They will do her bidding until they discover her secret.

I can help you, said Zenith.

We will see, potioner. Your fate is on a razor’s edge. The High Priest turned and walked away.

Fabio stood in front of the bars holding the torch. He said, Can you do it?

Maybe, but why is it important to you?

Queen Dacey sacrificed my brother to the gods. He was a dissenter. He just wanted to help the people of our city. The queen has split our city down the middle. The Kan sect only wishes for her power. Kans are no longer holy.

It seems that Eadrich could determine my fate.

High Priest Eadrich is the leader of the Izamna sect. He is the only thing standing in the way of the evil queen. The people back Izamna. The queen has been trying for years to kill Eadrich. I hope setting you free will not be an excuse for the queen to sacrifice Eadrich. Sleep well, potioner, said Fabio. Fabio started to whistle a tune as he walked down the hall.

Zenith punched the straw mattress to make a comfortable dent for a pillow rest. He muttered, Sleep tight. Tomorrow you may be dead. On his back, he said, Always something.

Zenith fell into a fitful sleep. His poorly nourished body was slowly shutting down. Without proper water and food, his body had eaten the fat from his bones. He was physically weak. Without nutritional food soon, he would succumb to starvation. The irony was that Zenith could concoct a healing potion from several herbs but only poison concoctions from the mold growing on the cell’s stone walls.

Chapter Two

Queen Dianna Harken sat on a throne made of pure silver. The throne looked like a cube with a seat cut out of it. Despite the opulent look, Dianna thought the throne was less comfortable than a chamber pot. Dianna wore a silver band as a crown on her forehead. The dress she wore seemed to shimmer when you looked at it. The dress was white, multilayered silk with pearls sewn into the folds. Dianna hated the dress. She could not reach the knives strapped to her thigh. Behold, Dianna Harken, Queen of Viridian; she felt more like a bureaucrat holding the hands of the people. If one more person complained about her abolishing slavery in Viridian, she would pierce their heart with a slender knife.

What she would not give to feel her heart race as she stole a purse full of coins from an unsuspecting merchant. After all, she was a thief from a small town in Erimos. Stephen, Soles, and Dianna had killed the murdering tyrant of Viridian. Rex Almanon had been a blight on the Viridian peoples’ minds for over a thousand years. A dragon who could transform into a small man, Rex Almanon had ruled with a clawed fist. He was a tyrant with an egregious hatred for all of humanity. Dianna had personally cut the dragon’s head from the body and dropped it onto the palace steps as a warning to anyone who had profited from Rex Almanon’s reign. By beheading a monster, she not only saved her home of Erimos from a tyrannic invasion but also freed the people of Viridian from the horrors of an oppressor.

Long ago, someone had hung tapestries depicting Rex Almanon’s reign of terror in the great hall. Dianna had them torn down and burned. Now, the great hall’s walls were bare, as was the marble floor of the throne room. During Rex Almanon’s reign, the bloodstained marble floor had stood as a reminder of his power. When Dianna began her reign, she had paid a local merchant to clean the floor. The throne room was now so bare Dianna felt like she was sitting in a crypt. It occurred to her to hire an interior decorator to spruce up the place before the eerie feeling of death overwhelmed her emotions. Dianna wondered if the cute blonde girl who guarded the door could decorate.

Soles, Dianna’s right-hand man, walked into the throne room unannounced. He knelt on one knee to show his respect in case the guards at the door peeked around the corner. The sovereignty of the Queen must look legitimate even for Soles. He said, My Queen, Rex Aristarchus, of the Gosh Kingdom, is massing troops on our border. The day has come. We knew the dragons would not sit in their kingdoms. They will seek reprisal for the death of one of their own.

What about Rex Ptolemaeus of Simian? asked Dianna.

No troop movements right now. Maybe he is waiting for Rex Aristarchus to make a mistake. They hate each other as much as you. Rex Aristarchus has amassed six iron mules and a few hundred men.

Pack animals?

No, mules are like buckboard wagons powered by compression engines instead of horses. You can fit half a dozen men in the back. During a sortie, they can fire into the lines or transport men to flank you.

Viridian had surpassed the agricultural state of Erimos and industrialized their world, which made them much more dangerous. A small black rock mined from the mountains could convert water into steam in a compression chamber. Rifles and vehicles fought in the wars instead of horses with bows and arrows.

How long before they get here?

They must build a bridge over the Quench River to transport their equipment. I can delay the bridge by a few weeks if we play a little espionage at night.

Delay as much as possible. Try to sabotage their equipment as well. We will prepare here. Should we meet them in the field or hold the city?

I say we meet them in the field, and if we need to, we can pull back into the citadel.

What about the city?

"If