The Ruthless Ring: The Cursed Heirlooms, #1

By Jessica Kemery

To defend his comrades, he'll risk profane sorcery. But when he's bewitched by an evil enchantment, will he destroy everyone he loves?

Jord Broadbent is ready to serve. Answering the call to enlist in the Emperor's army, the headstrong eighteen-year-old farm boy is confident he'll return a hero. But when a deadly battle leaves him in mortal danger, the young soldier willingly dons a cursed ring to save his companions from a gruesome demise.

Earning victory in fight after fight, Jord's newfound savagery catapults him to fame and power. But as he's seduced by the stolen heirloom's sinister whispers, the once-innocent youth covets treasure beyond his reach.

Balanced on a razor's edge of sanity, will he descend into a malevolent abyss?

The Ruthless Ring is the page-turning first book in The Cursed Heirlooms dark fantasy series. If you like compelling antiheroes, epic combat scenes, and sweeping sagas, then you'll revel in Jessica Kemery's bloody tale.

Read The Ruthless Ring to fall under an insidious spell today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hot Mess Express Publishing
• Release date: Sep 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224678280

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

PROLOGUE

It was a surprise to no one when the conscript officer arrived at their small village that spring, setting up in the square. He had come every year for the past fifty—while the war raged to the east—to pluck the young ones who had come of age.

The word spread through the village like wildfire. It was time to report to duty.

The army chewed up the youth of the land and spit them out. Despite that, the war raged year after year. They said the empire was strong because of mandatory service, but the wounded and traumatized soldiers told a different story. There were plenty of empty chairs at dinner tables and new gravestones in the churchyard. Those were the ones lucky enough to have been returned home for a proper burial.

Jord picked up a pile of cow manure and dirty hay with his pitchfork, throwing it onto the wheelbarrow. His mother planted the garden for vegetables to keep them going, as she had every spring for as long as he could remember.

His da heard his sigh from his workbench, where he was mending a scythe.

Don’t despair, Jord. I’ve taught you well. You’ll do fine, Mazen Broadbent, father of five, farmer of wheat, and veteran of the never-ending war, said. Today, his voice was full of weariness, for they had worked hard in the sun.

I’m not despairing, Jord answered sullenly, picking up another cow pie and tossing it carefully.

I served in the army. It’s been a long time now. But I still remember it like it was yesterday. You’ll learn some good skills, make some lifelong friends, and learn some discipline. You’ll come back with a bit of coin in your pocket, and then you can marry your girl, his da said, squinting at his eldest son in the dim light of the barn.

I’m not cut out for the army, Da, Jord said, putting the pitchfork back on the hook. Farming is in my blood; I’m a farmer through and through. I just want to marry Lorien and get on with my life. Lorien was sixteen and anxious to marry, but there was no getting out of it for Jord. They had decided they would wait and see if he returned before starting their life together. It’s what a lot of young couples did.

His da shook his head. Let me show you something, he said, leading him to the back room. His da’s old chest, filled with his most prized personal possessions, was kept here under lock and key.

Mumbling, he reached into his pocket for his key ring and slid the long brass key into the padlock. It opened with a click and then fell to the floor. His da pushed open the trunk, and they both looked inside.

Old books, pieces of outdated armor, and the remains of broken spears he had taken as trophies from the field of battle filled the trunk. He smiled and said, It's been twenty long years since any of this saw the light of day. I’m sure the army will outfit you with better equipment, but this, this is what I want you to have. He pulled out a long package wrapped in a length of woolen cloth and tied with a piece of burlap rope.

Mazen Broadbent untied the rope and then quickly unrolled the cloth almost reverently. This was my da’s sword. He carried it through the great war, and he gave it to me when it was my turn to fight. A farmer doesn’t have much use for a sword. Mazen paused, and reached over and clasped his son’s shoulder, his eyes a bit teary. I’ve kept it all this time, knowing my sons might be called to serve the empire. I want you to have it.

Jord took it hesitantly, feeling the weapon's weight. The blade needed a bit of polishing, but the sword fit right in his hand. It was jeweled at the hilt with a bit of red jade. Jord was surprised his father hadn’t pried the stones out and sold them. Things were never easy on the Broadbent holding.

He was the oldest of the three brothers and two sisters. His brothers would go to war soon. I’ll bring it back. So Aaron can use it, Jord promised. A dark thought struck him as he took the sword. It was more likely he would become just another nameless corpse on the battlefield, cut down in his prime by the grinding war with the Stoven Kingdom.

CHAPTER ONE

It was a sleepless night, tossing and turning up in the loft with his siblings. The night before had been a sort of farewell party for him. His mother had made his favorite dinner: lamb with mint sauce and mashed turnips. She had even made sweet rolls, a dessert they only usually had at Midwinter and May Day because of the cost of sugar.

In the middle of that restless night, his youngest sister, little Rose, who was only eleven, shook him awake.

Jord, are you going to die? her little scared voice asked. She sat next to him on his bed and took his hand. He was her favorite. When she was younger, she would come find him when it stormed, the sound of the rain beating down on their thatch roof scared her. But now, her round face shone with tears in the night. Her pale blonde hair and blue eyes looked so angelic in the moonlight.

Oh, Rose. You silly goose. Of course not. Da gave me the family sword. He nodded at the weapon, leaning against his bedpost, gleaming in the darkness. I’ll do my best to come home.

Jord on the family farm

Why do you have to go, Jord? I want you to stay here, Rose said, her little lip quivering.

If I don’t go fight, the empire might fall, and then the bad guys will come, he said, giving her a hug. I’ve got to protect you all.

Rose! his eldest sister June said, rolling out of her bed, awoken by their voices. Stop bothering Jord and get back to bed. He’s got a long day tomorrow.

Jord yawned, and ran a hand through his hair. It's okay, June. I couldn’t sleep anyway, and it’s almost time to get up, he said, spying the first signs of dawn out the small loft window. The sky was just beginning to turn bright in the east, and in the barnyard, the rooster crowed. I need to get up, anyway. I’ll help Da with the morning chores one last time before I leave.

He rustled his brothers out of bed. Aaron and Brand stomped downstairs while he tousled Rose’s hair and kissed her blonde head before he climbed down the loft stairs into the warm kitchen below.

His bag was already packed, waiting for him by the door. He pulled on his boots and threw on his clothes, ready to start his day.

His father was waiting in the kitchen, adding some logs to the fire, getting it ready for their mother.

Last day, Jord, Mazen said sadly, looking over at his son. You don't have to do chores if you don’t want to.

No, Da. I’ve got it. Together, he and his brothers went to the barn. It felt surreal to do the milking of the cow while his younger brothers gathered eggs, slopped the hog, and spread chicken feed.

Jord grabbed the water pail off the wall and went to the pump, looking out at the idyllic farmyard. His parents' house was spacious, with a newly thatched roof. They also had a stone barn, which housed their animals snugly through the winter.

To the east, his father’s fields were surrounded by the orchard. The fields were already plowed. In the next week, his father and his brothers would plant the wheat and the peas.

Already, his heart ached with leaving. How could he leave his loved ones behind? He looked out on the tidy farm and he resolved to come back, no matter what. He would do anything to return in one piece.

Boys! Breakfast is done! his mother, Melinda, called, waving from the door of the kitchen. Frowning, he pulled the water pail up from the well, cold and dripping, and carried it into the house for the last time.

After breakfast, he stood with his bag and the sword, looking over his family. His mother was trying not to cry, and even his da looked like he was struggling. One by one, he gave them a hug. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, he assured them. His little brothers were looking at him with wide eyes, no doubt thinking of the day when they would leave to join the army.

His mother stepped forward, wiping tears out of her eyes and wiping her nose with her apron. I want you to take this with you, Melinda said, passing him a small, worn book.

Mother, I can’t take this. This is your Bible, Jord said, caressing the soft black leather cover. His mother always carried it, tucked into the purse at her belt or her apron.

Take it. It will give you something to read when you are bored or around the fire. It will help you remember God is always with you.

Thank you, he said, blinking back tears. He shoved it in his back pocket. He would, for certain, read it later.

You’d best be off. I bet you want to drop by the Turner farm, his father said gruffly.

Take care, brother, June said, looking at him sadly while she held Rose close to her, but the girl broke free, wailing. She ran across the room, grabbing him and hugging him tightly. Don’t go, Jord!

He bent down and hugged her. You be a good girl, Rose. Listen to Ma and Da, and study hard. Take care of Jinx for me, will you? he said, looking down at the old black Tomcat, who blinked its green eyes at him and rubbed against his ankles. He gave his sister one last hug, scratched the black cat’s chin, and threw his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t look back, afraid he would cry.

He headed down his lane, hearing the birds singing. For once, the spring rains had cleared away, and the sun was glorious. The spring flowers were blooming, and everything was bright and fresh. He hurried down the dirt road, avoiding the puddles from the rain last week. After a few minutes' walk, he arrived at the Turner farm. It was a homestead very much like theirs, except that Farmer Turner specialized in pigs. The powerful smell of swine excrement filled his nose, but he paid it no mind. 

He found Rae Turner waiting for him by the fence. She was a fiery redhead, and she had her bag at her feet.

Rae, good morning, he said politely, nodding to her. She was going to war with him. Her sweetheart had gone last year and had died within the first few months on the front. They didn’t even get his body, only a letter from his unit.

Lorien is waiting for you, she said curtly, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding toward the porch. Hurry, I don’t want to be late for the roll call.

He put his bag down by Rae and strode briskly to the porch. He found Lorien there, sitting on a bench, tears streaming down her face.

Awww, Lorien. I thought we agreed. NO crying. I’ll be back before you know it, Jord said, sighing. He sat down next to her on the bench and gathered her into his arms.

I know, she blubbered, wiping her hazel eyes. But I was just thinking about poor Rae, how Max died so tragically. That could be me, Jord.

I’m not going to die! Jord said, getting angry. This entire morning has been like some sort of strange wake. It’s like no one expects to see me again. I’ll be back, Lorien, and then we can get married.

If you don’t return, I’ll take up the sword like my sister, Lorien said, looking out at the courtyard where her sister waited, her back turned to them.

Don’t be ridiculous. You promise me, Lorien, you won’t turn bitter like Rae, Jord said, tilting her head up. He met her lips, and her arms went around him. He brushed back her brown hair, tucking it behind her ear. Their kiss was long, and he didn’t want to say goodbye.

Come on! Rae said impatiently, looking at the lovers over her shoulder.

With a sigh, Lorien broke the embrace and pulled him to standing. She walked with him, hand in hand, to the road where Rae waited. She paused to pick an early spring crocus off a stem at the edge of the lane and handed it to him with a shy smile. To remember me by. 

He took it from her and pulled out the Bible his mom had given him, tucking it in the front cover. I should be the one giving you flowers, he said, squeezing her hand.

When you come back a hero, you can fill my arms with wedding flowers, she said, standing on her toes and giving him a last kiss.

Ugh. How poetic. Let's go, Jord, Rae said, kicking his bag as a reminder they needed to be on their way. 

Lorien's eyes searched Rae's face, Where is the girl I once knew? The girl who would dance in the rain and laugh at the smallest of jokes? You’re consumed, Rae.

Rae’s hands clenched tightly. Max and I had plans, Lorien. Dreams. We spoke of a future, of children, of growing old together on our own farmstead. Every night I go to sleep thinking of him, and every morning I wake up with the bitter taste of reality, her voice trembled with the weight of her pain.

Lorien reached out, touching her sister's arm gently. Rae, I understand your anger. Max was family to us too. But don't let this desire for revenge consume you. Remember the love you had, not just the loss.

Rae looked away, biting her lip. The wind played with her hair, tousling the red strands. The war took him away from me. From us. I can't just stand by and do nothing.

You're so young, Rae, Lorien whispered, her voice thick with emotion. You have your whole life ahead of you. War changes people, and not always for the better.

Rae took a deep breath, her resolve unwavering. They started this war, not me. They took the love of my life, and I can't just sit back. I won't allow his death to be in vain.

Lorien looked defeated, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Just promise me, Rae, that you’ll remember who you are and where you come from.

Rae hugged her younger sister tightly, letting the warmth of the embrace convey all the words she couldn’t say. I promise, she murmured, her voice muffled by Lorien's hair.

Goodbye, sister. I hope you find peace, Lorien said, looking at her sadly.

It's not peace I'm looking for. It's revenge, Rae said quietly, her eyes narrowing. Without a backward glance, she picked up her bag and headed for the road. Silently, Jord followed her, glancing back at Lorien, who watched after them, and gave them both a wave before they disappeared around the bend.

CHAPTER TWO

The conscripts gathered at the town square, all ten of them, mostly young men Jord had gone to school with. Rae was the only woman in their group, but none of them questioned her. They all knew why she was there.

Jord! Leo, the innkeeper’s son, slapped him on the back. Leo had shoulder length blond hair, and blue eyes. He had always been considered scrawny, at least compared to the other farm boys he grew up with.

Jord sneered at him. So, I guess they make even the rich ones go to war, he said, looking over Leo’s ridiculous-looking equipment. He had shown up for the roll call not only with a gleaming new sword with sapphires sat in the hilt but also a chain mail shirt and a helmet, all recently made by the blacksmith. On his skinny frame, he looked rather like a training dummy.

Leo glanced at the other farm boys surrounding them uncomfortably. His father’s inn was quite profitable, and he always had the best of everything. Not that he rubbed it in. Leo was a good sort.

Another boy joked, Your kit is ridiculous, Leo. It’s like you’re playing soldier.

I know, he admitted sheepishly. Da wanted me to have good equipment. He never went to war, you know, because of his club foot.

 I’m aware. Jord rolled his eyes. I’m going to have to protect you. You’re going to be a pincushion for those Stoven Knights.

 I’m not afraid of Stoven Knights, Leo said, tilting his chin up.

Just then, the consignment officer rolled up in a long wagon pulled by a team of enormous black draft horses. You should all be afraid. You all are green-bellied farm boys who don’t know one end of the pointy stick from another. If you all don’t die in a hail of blood in your first battle, I’ll be sorely surprised. One by one, they stepped forward, threw their bags in the wagon, and sat on a bench.

Jord ended up at the end of the line. Sliding on to the bench, he sat next to Rae and across from Leo. The officer stood at the end, glowering at the new recruits with narrowed, mean eyes. A portly man, his stomach hung over his sword belt, and his nose shone red from too much ale. 

He spoke with importance, looking over them seriously. We're going to Ulra Stronghold. You'll join the best farmhands the Maldavan Empire could find. We'll try to make men out of you.

Rae glared at him and pursed her lips, annoyed at the slight.

He chuckled and ignored her. Say goodbye to your little village. What’s this place called again? I see so many of these little backward places I can’t keep them straight.

The village of Sarrif, sir, Jord said dryly.

The consignment officer chuckled. Oh yes. This might just be the last you ever see of this place, so take a good gander, boys. Fix it in yer memory. It’ll serve you well over the campfire after you’ve been marching for days.

Jord took the words to heart and gazed over at the sleepy houses that lined the main street. Each dwelling was filled with people he had known his entire life. He silently said goodbye to the inn at the end of the street and the town square, where they gathered for fairs and celebrations. 

They passed Old Widow Morris, hauling a basket of wash. She stopped and raised her hands. May the Lord be with you, she shouted out as the horse rumbled by. He smiled and raised his hand back, glancing back at Sarrif one last time.

The road from the village was long and hot. They occasionally passed regiments of foot soldiers marching by, ready for war. Everyone headed for No-Man's-Land except them. The regiments were followed by provisioning wagons heavily loaded with boxes and crates of foodstuffs for the army.

The new conscripts passed the time by chatting. They talked about their dreams of battlefield glory and what they would do with the first wages they earned. Each foot soldier earned ten coin a month, which they could draw or bank until later. The young soldiers bragged about how fast they would get promoted, the glory they would find on the battlefield, and the riches they would loot.

Silently, Rae fumed, avoiding their genial conversation until someone asked her what she was going to do with her earnings. She turned her hazel eyes on them. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I don’t expect to come home, and you all are idiots for thinking you will. At least half of this wagon won’t return.

Leo looked a little sick at her words. Come on, Rae, don’t be such a downer, he grumbled.

Max didn’t come back, or Ryan, or Thomas. They all died. And none of their families even got a body to cry over, Rae said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder and returning to looking into the far distance.

The thought of their friends that didn’t return caused a black cloud of grim silence to fall onto the boys in the wagon. The wagon wheels creaked as they pondered her words. Finally, a rest stop saved them from thinking any more about their mortality. The wagon stopped at a pull-off by the stream.

You! the consignment officer said, pointing to Leo. Water the horses. The lot of you can rest and water yourselves.

They all tumbled out of the hot, dusty wagon and gladly drank handfuls of water and refilled their water skins.

Rae sat by herself, looking out at the stream. She had packed a few biscuits for her lunch and an apple. Jord opened his bag and found a hunk of bread and some cheese, which he gobbled down. It had been a long time since he last ate, and his stomach rumbled at the smell of his mother's fresh bread.

Rae. You’ve got to stop talking like that. You're bringing everyone down, Jord said, shaking his head. No one wanted to sit by them. When Leo finished with the horses, he glanced over at Rae and then cautiously took a seat in the dusty dirt next to her.

She ignored Leo but turned her eyes to Jord. It’s the truth.

Jord shrugged. He knew it was the truth, but they would all rather pretend they were indestructible. It was better than the alternative.

 Soon, they were on their way again, traveling until nearly nightfall, when they stopped to camp in a large grassy meadow filled with wildflowers.

They had all brought bedrolls, and Jord was glad the night was clear. He sat up next to Leo, who had packed a thick quilt and even a pillow.

Leo, you can’t take a pillow to battle, Jord exclaimed. He had noticed his friend’s excessively large bedroll earlier today but had quickly forgotten.

Why not! It’s quite comfortable. Why should I be uncomfortable out in the field? Leo asked, fluffing his pillow.

One boy nearby laughed. "Leo, are you