Dominion: Honor Bound, #3

By Jon Kiln

Captain Berengar and Lieutenant Nisero are on a quest to track down a mysterious artifact of immense power.

 

With evil forces threatening the safety of the people, the King sends his two most trusted and loyal men on the most dangerous mission they have ever faced.

 

With lives hanging in the balance, and other hunters after the prize, the fate of the kingdom rests in their hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jon Kiln
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223853770

Book preview

Dominion

Honor Bound: Book Three

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by Jon Kiln

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 : Formula For Madness

Chapter 2 : Upon Bent Pages

Chapter 3 : Home is Where Your Dead Are Buried

Chapter 4 : Swelling Population

Chapter 5 : Only Somewhat Believe in Ghosts

Chapter 6 : Writing on the Wall

Chapter 7 : Expected

Chapter 8 : From the Corner of the Eye

Chapter 9 : What Blindspots Reveal

Chapter 10 : The Cage of Certainty

Chapter 11 : Blood in the Sand

Chapter 12 : Trails of Sand

Chapter 13 : Promises in Halves

Chapter 14 : Fighting Sideways

Chapter 15 : The Line of Faithcore

Chapter 16 : Always Meant to Do

Chapter 17 : All Paths Darkness

Chapter 18 : The Universe on a Tiny Blade

Chapter 19 : Facing the Consequences

Chapter 20 : Banishment

Chapter 1: Formula For Madness

Captain Berengar opened the message. As the wax from the seal crumbled to the floor of the palace chambers, he suspected there would be bad news. When he read the words from Lieutenant Nisero’s own hand, he knew for a fact he was in trouble, and possibly the whole kingdom with him.

He scanned it a second time to be sure he had the details correct, and he rolled the parchment back up. As he fed the roll into his belt near the hilt of his sword, he asked the messenger, Do you know what it says?

The boy blinked and swallowed. I knew who it was to and nothing more, sir. The seal was unbroken, as you saw.

How old are you?

The boy swallowed again. I’m sixteen seasons, sir.

Where are you from?

I was sent from the estate where the Lieutenant is camped.

I mean originally, Berengar clarified. Where is your home? Your family?

My brothers fight on the front, the boy began. My oldest brother is a commander. My father was killed in battle beyond the eastern border. My mother and sister have been missing since Spire first fell two years ago. We presume they are dead, but we do not know. Our home was in Spire.

Captain Berengar eyed the boy a moment longer. Have you been back since the siege broke and we retook the city?

Berengar saw the boy’s jaw muscles tighten and he considered withdrawing the question. The boy answered, My oldest brother was allowed to go in and inspect before he was shipped south. He sent word to all of us that the section of the city where our house once was had burned to the ground. There were no other signs.

I’m sorry, Berengar commiserated. How long have you served?

I joined when I was fourteen and we were driven from Spire.

The boy was already a veteran in the war and he was barely old enough to shave. With the trouble in the south, Berengar suspected there was no end in sight. Berengar considered telling the boy that he had lost his home, wife, and son to the fire of the enemy many years ago, but his tongue would not form the words.

Thank you for your service, he said instead.

Berengar turned and moved deeper into the palace.

Sir, the Lieutenant gave no instructions concerning a return message, the boy called at the Captain’s back. Is there one?

It won’t be necessary. I will be heading out to join Lieutenant Nisero myself shortly.

The Lieutenant had not given instructions for a message because he knew Berengar would come. He knew what this discovery meant or could mean.

I’ll take my leave then, sir, unless there is anything else.

Berengar made a quarter turn. What is your name, soldier?

The boy hesitated, but then answered. I am Belsh, sir. I’m only a messenger. I do not bear rank in the army as a soldier.

You have fought for two years and sacrificed your home in battle. You are a soldier like your brothers and father. Do you mind waiting on me here and traveling with me back to the estate, Belsh?

Belsh cleared his throat. I’m at your service and command, Captain.

Remain here then. I will be back shortly. We will have a few things to see to before we go, but then we will ride.

Berengar turned and made for the stairs without waiting on a further answer.

The Captain was intercepted at the bottom of the stairs by another soldier bearing a map in his fists. Is there something you need from me, soldier, before I go to brief the King, keeping in mind that he is waiting.

I’m sorry to interrupt, sir. The soldier backed out of Berengar’s path. It is about the southern campaign, but it can wait until you are completed with your business with the King.

I’ll have new business after that, I suspect, Berengar said. Can you state your need of me quickly, soldier?

I can try, sir. The soldier turned the map of the kingdom back into Berengar’s view. The units are placed as commanded. The fighting in the middle seems the bloodiest, but all three positions are under pressure according to reports. Commander Holwest sends word that he suspects the enemy armies are operating largely independent of one another.

Berengar looked back over at Belsh and considered the older brother and the bloody fighting. The people of the kingdom were not done losing family. Berengar whispered, Why are they attacking at all then?

We don’t know, sir. There is no love lost, of course. They may think there is opportunity with our long war with the east.

Perhaps, Berengar considered. Hopefully they will delay uniting against us until we find our footing.

The soldier turned as Berengar took the stairs. They hate each other more than they hate us.

Berengar sighed and responded without turning back. Mutual enemies make the strangest of bedfellows, even among those that hate each other desperately.

Berengar moved up and through the palace higher and higher, hoping to avoid any more interruptions. He was not looking forward to this conversation, but he did not want to delay its completion any longer than he had to either.

He paused at the top of the private stairs and stared down the empty hallway toward the King’s chambers. For all the rooms in the palace, more and more of Berengar’s meetings were taking place in the private chamber.

The King seldom ventured down to the war rooms himself, instead opting for diluted summaries. With all the contradictory reports between the commanders over strategy, Berengar was not sure that the King had chosen the best course.

Captain Berengar focused most of his attention on the security of the palace and the capital more broadly, but he was being pulled into more and more of the battle and strategy decisions.

He ended most of his days with headaches that chose one random spot in his skull as the focus of the throbbing pain. His headaches were making far more progress than the armies of the kingdom, most days.

And now the war to the south too...

We did retake Spire, Berengar practiced the words. They did not sound hopeful off his lips. He lowered his voice and spoke more slowly. We did retake Spire.

It sounded even darker and less sure. Berengar shook his head and the first hints of the headache spot formed deep under his right eyebrow. He hated the headaches in the front of his head the worst. He was in for a long night. If he did not have such a hard ride ahead of him, he would retire to his quarters to drink heavily from different draughts of wine to drown the ache. He would pay in a redoubled attack in the morning, but sometimes putting off a battle for a night was all the victory available.

He thought Captain Forseth would agree.

The thought escaped into his tired mind before he could stifle it. Once it had loosed itself within his skull, he tasted bitterness on the back of his tongue and had a greater desire to drink than before.

As he grew older, he found his thoughts slipping away from him into the past more often. His mind wanted to return to the warrior Forseth that he knew during his first stint as Captain before the war in the east, before his wife and son were killed, and before he was betrayed by a man that used to be one of his oldest friends. Lots of good men fell in cold blood during that betrayal, and a few years of rebuilding the Elite Guard from the bottom up had not helped dispel those ghosts.

Berengar forced his feet to move again and he stopped outside the King’s chambers. The flagstone floor still bore the scraps from the scouring it had received following the end of the attempted coup. It had finished in more blood and much of it had been spilled here right outside the doors of the King’s chambers.

Forseth had stabbed out one last time to murder Dreth, Berengar’s son-in-law, leaving his daughter with child but without husband. It had been Forseth’s last act of treachery before being dragged to the gallows.

Berengar narrowed his eyes at the scrapes where the blood had been raked up. Blood stains still marked other floors of the palace, but leaving it outside the King’s doors was too close. It was a reminder of the King’s vulnerability that was too bold for the monarch to face each morning. Berengar was not sure the scrapes were any better.

He raised his hand to give the door a rap, and await being granted entry.

Berengar’s memory drifted again and he recalled Forseth’s face as his body was dropped. He still had a smile across his lips broad enough to show his teeth.

He’s up in the tower.

Berengar jumped and turned his back to the wall beside the doors with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The young man in red held up both gloved hands empty with fingers splayed. Opening his arms out spread his cloak and showed that his own blades were still sheathed. Sorry, Captain, didn’t know any way to announce my presence. Apologies.

He seemed far too young to be ranked in the Elite Guard. If it had been before the great betrayal, he would be one of the youngest members. With the rebuilding, they were all young—all except Berengar and one other.

It is all well... soldier, Berengar said. If his mind were more at ease, he could pull up the name, but the state of his troubled brain left that detail lost in the swirl. More than a little shame accompanied the lapse. Their names should have been etched upon a captain’s brain, Berengar thought. He remembered every name of the ones that had fallen without even trying. The tower, you say?

Yes, sir. He told me to tell you to come up, if you came.

How did he know I might be coming?

I don’t know, sir. It was a short list of names. Everyone else was to be told he was unavailable.

Berengar stared a moment and then nodded. Why are you guarding an empty chamber?

We want to be sure no one sneaks in during the King’s absence. It is your protocol, sir.

Right. Berengar nodded again and walked past. Why are you hiding around the corner like this?

Standing in the open exposes me to bolts and arrows from the stairs, sir. I’d rather surprise others than to be caught by surprise.

This was a good man for the Elite Guard. Berengar and Nisero had chosen carefully during the rebuilding, even with the wars drawing out men from being candidates. They had been very careful. The deceptions of the past had demanded it.

Very well, Stoleck. Carry on.

Yes, sir. Thank you.

As Berengar mounted the spiraled stairs beyond the chamber passage, he paused. His lips drew into a frown. Stoleck was not the right name. Stoleck had died many years ago before Berengar’s first retirement. Stoleck was ten years the senior of that soldier at least at the time of his death. He had the same dark hair. It had been before the battle with the barbarian king Zulag. That was a different lifetime, it seemed.

Berengar shook his head. Calling a soldier by the wrong name was worse than not using his name at all. It showed a level of disregard for a man expected to stand shoulder to shoulder with his captain to the death. It was not fitting of a captain of the Elite Guard.

I tried to retire once already, Berengar said to the empty stairs. I tried very hard. I thought I had hidden myself well enough to avoid being recaptured by the King’s service.

Berengar shook his head again. It was no excuse.

He forced himself to continue mounting the steps through the spiral up into the tower.

Talking to oneself was a habit that Berengar was not enjoying. He found himself doing it in his bedchamber and out upon the walls of the city as he pondered many terrible options. He noticed it more within the cold walls of the palace. There were many ghosts in these halls—perhaps both real and imagined. Berengar imagined anyone wandering the palace would develop the eccentric habit in time. Locking kings into blood-stained palaces had to be a terrible thing to do to men responsible for leading a kingdom. It had to be a formula for madness.

Captain Berengar stepped out onto the top floor of the tower. Even with light filtering through the high, barred windows, the passage seemed very dark.

Two Elite Guardsmen stepped aside to let their Captain pass. He remembered both of their names. It troubled him that the name of the young man on the chamber door escaped his mind.

The King stood at the far end of the passage, leaning on one of the doors and peering into the darkness within.

Berengar approached King Ramael as ordered. The King was an old man with many years upon his throne—years hard earned through attempted coups and wars. He seemed younger and stronger to Berengar though.

Ramael was going outside more and riding horses around the property. It worried Berengar as he scrambled men to secure the grounds, but it seemed to be doing wonders for the King’s health. Maybe Ramael sensed the weight of the ghosts inside too, and feared the risk of madness that they brought.

Captain, it’s good to see you.

Berengar smiled. Thank you for saying so, your majesty. I feel I so often bring you dark news that you would dread my visits.

The King smiled back and returned his attention to the small opening through the bars on the door. Nonsense. The war continuing means it is not lost. That is always good news, is it not, Captain?

That is an excellent point indeed, your majesty.

We have had a few good turns of late, have we not?

Berengar took a deep breath and controlled his voice as he said, We did retake Spire... my King.

The King nodded with eyes fixed into the darkness of the cell beyond the door. That’s the spirit, Captain. What news do you have for me today?

I have word from Lieutenant Nisero that he found the first hint of where the object might be. Assuming that artifact actually exists.

It exists, the King said flatly. Lord Caffrey was a lot of things, but he was not a man that chased after things that held no substance.

As you say, your majesty.

The King took his eyes from the cell door. Berengar heard scratching behind the wood but he forced himself to keep his eyes on the King. The peripheral of his vision was watching the opening for some pale, dirty hand to grab out at any moment.

Speak your mind on this, Captain.

Berengar chewed at the inside of his mouth for a moment. My mind, as always, is focused only upon serving you and your kingdom.

King Ramael sighed and narrowed his eyes. He called over the Captain’s shoulder. Gentlemen, please excuse yourselves to a position at the bottom of the stairs. I will come down with the Captain once our conversation is concluded.

Captain Berengar heard the two Guardsmen retreating down the stone steps of the spiral of the tower.

My apologies, your majesty, Berengar said. I did not intend to portray anything less than full respect and enthusiasm for my service to you.

Stop it. Ramael looked back through the bars. For the sake of the gods, Berengar, we crawled through a sewer pipe together escaping our enemies with nothing but our skins to our names. If I can’t get you to speak to me plainly, what hope do I have of ever hearing the truth in my own kingdom? You’ve earned the right to speak your mind and I’ve earned the right to ask you to do so. So speak.

Berengar cleared his throat. "Do you think Caffrey is out seeking this artifact? And do you believe it holds the powers that the legends claim that