Deaths reckoning the mor.., p.1
Death's Reckoning (The Mortal Aspects Book 1), page 1
Dedicated to the people who listened to me ramble on about my ideas for this story, especially my mom and my fiancé. Thank you for your all of your help and patience!
Contents
Dramatis Personae
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Dramatis Personae
Tarana (Blacksword) Tevulun: The Aspect of Calamity.
Bilal Pacorro: Captain of the Lontiel city guard.
Hector Pacorro: Bilal’s father and employee at the Mare’s Respite inn.
Fevre Geere: Commander of the ranger division of the Tevulun army.
Cora Tevulun: Tarana’s younger sister and heir-apparent to the kingdom of Accalia.
Captain Okal: Captain of the Vicrum city guard.
Idris Tevulun: Tarana’s father and the current king of Accalia
Essien Tevulun: Tarana’s aunt. The previous Aspect of Calamity.
General Gratianos: Lead general of the main Tevulun army
Mer: Surgeon and lieutenant serving in Fevre’s ranger company.
Finn Tevulun: Tarana’s uncle and general of the secondary Tevulun army.
Alafin Tevani: A distant cousin of Tarana’s, from the Tevani cadet branch of the Tevuluns.
Syed: Captain in the Tevulun army.
General Faris: Ma’isan general. Commands the contingent that supports Pestilence.
Aster: Leader of a mercenary group working out of the Tevulun Protectorate.
Aali, Jib: Members of Aster’s mercenary company.
Sergeant Gnarl Dubern: Leader of the Gray Masques, the most decorated squad in the Tevulun army.
Yone: Royal guardsman.
Khalil, Sef, Ran, Zo, Rike, Oya, Sergeant Sora: Rangers.
Masak, Ghita: Servants who work in the Vicrum castle.
Micol Merdado: Tevulun capit stationed in Lelet.
Asoka: Micol’s friend in the Tevulun army.
Visala, Gwynn, Jehan: Priests of Mirao.
Vasha, Joji: Leaders of the Wolves of Vicrum.
Lieutenant Abena: Leader of the Tevulun army forces stationed at Lelet.
Barke: Manservant to Lord Farai.
Lord Farai: Tevulun lord whose main holding is the village of Lelet.
Pilar, Lon: Dock workers in Vicrum.
Rivas: Dock overseer in Vicrum.
Darshan, Sakaye: Members of the Wolves of Vicrum.
Rikke, Valda, Baden, Gull: Members of the new Wolves.
Itan Mirao (née Ade): Young priest of Mirao who travels the lands of Accalia gathering souls of the dead for the Aspect of Death.
Fyodor, Tira: Priests of Mirao and members of the Synod.
Cosimo Mirao: The Aspect of Death.
Elysa Crane: A demagogue in the city of Jaruna that has turned the people against the priests of Mirao.
Ponto, Padme, Heck: Orphans living in Jaruna.
Magistrate Nur: Magistrate from the Ma’isan Protectorate.
Chapter 1
Micol
Legend tells of the immortal gods, masters of unfathomable power. From gilded thrones they reigned, unconcerned with the fates of those who worshipped them.
What remains of history from those times paints a grim picture of the world under their charge. Theirs was a world of darkness, of sorrow and pain. Thus were the first mortal aspects driven to overthrow them.
Mortals, who soon proved themselves far worse stewards of power.
- Ysolde Vael, The Mortal Aspects
“Look sharp!” Lieutenant Abena’s shout broke through the darkness. Micol shook himself, tightening his grip on his bow.
The lieutenant’s footsteps crunched against gravel as he approached. “Anything to report, soldier?” Pockmarks covered the lieutenant’s face; even though his thick beard hid the worst of it, an errant constellation wound its way from the top of his left cheek to the middle of his forehead.
Micol shook his head. “No, sir. It’s been a quiet night. I think Old Man Foster is drunk again. I heard him singing a while ago.”
“Yeah, you and half the company. Where’s that accursed partner of yours?”
“He had to relieve himself, sir.” The lie was an easy one. In truth, Micol had no idea where Asoka had gone, but with their camp a few hundred miles away from the Ma’isan front it didn’t seem worth worrying about. Most likely, Asoka had snuck into the village of Lelet for some company.
Lieutenant Abena gave Micol a frustrated look. “Well, when he gets back tell him to report to me. The Gray Masques are getting called back to the west and we’ll need someone to cover their watch shifts. Looks like Asoka just volunteered.”
Micol had to work to suppress a sigh of relief at the news about the Gray Masques leaving. “Yes, sir.”
“Your shift will be over in another hour, city boy. Try not to fall asleep before then.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that, the lieutenant left. Micol tested his bowstring, turning back to face the darkness. A meandering breeze teased the tops of some long grass, making the tips flutter. He thought he saw something moving in the tree beyond, but it disappeared a moment later.
Bad luck for Asoka, he thought. No one in the company had known why the Gray Masques had shown up a few months back – they weren’t exactly a talkative group – but they’d taken over all the worst shifts. The late nights and long hours would be enough to make anyone miserable, but as far as he could tell no one in the Gray Masques cared.
Micol started at the sound of a twig snapping. He fit an arrow onto his bowstring, eyes hunting for signs of movement in the forest ahead. For several seconds, there was nothing.
And then the nothingness gave way to movement. Micol heard hooves drumming toward him moments before a white horse broke through the tree line. “Raid!” he shouted, nocking an arrow. “We’re under attack!”
The horse galloped toward him, bearing two riders: one wore a hat bedecked with red-and-black feathers, while the other was slung across the back. “Shut it!” the rider hissed. “You’re going to get us in trouble!”
Micol relaxed his bow, recognizing the voice as Asoka’s. “Where were you? What’s with that ridiculous hat?”
The horse Asoka was riding slowed. He hopped off with surprising agility, looking past Micol to see if anyone had heard his call. Micol followed his eyes; several soldiers in various stages of undress were piling out of tents, readying weapons as they rushed to the post.
Lieutenant Abena was one of the first to arrive. His sword was still in its sheath, his eyes narrowed. “Ah, Asoka. So much for relieving yourself. Pray tell, whose horse is that? And who is that on the back?”
Asoka gulped visibly. “It’s a long story, Lieutenant. See, I went to relieve myself in the woods and next thing I knew I found myself in the Lelet tavern. And, well, I admit card games have always been a weakness for me. When I saw Lord Farai at the table, I just couldn’t keep away. Next thing I knew, we were playing with insane stakes. He started gambling things I never would have thought to ask for – like his horse, and his manservant. He must have done something to anger Loss, because those next few hands were the best of my life. So next thing I know—”
The lieutenant interrupted him. “Are you telling me you fleeced Lord Farai in a card game?”
“No, sir. I didn’t fleece him. I won fair and square.”
The lieutenant sighed. “Regardless, that’s his horse and manservant?”
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
The lieutenant was speechless for several seconds. Micol watched as the rest of the company – some hundred men – arrived. There was a chorus of whispers as those who’d heard the story filled in the late arrivals.
Lieutenant Abena cleared his throat, glaring at the company until the whispering died down. Once it was quiet, he focused on Asoka. “It’s crucial that you be honest with me, boy. The game you played, were there others at the table who could vouch for the stakes?”
“Yes, sir,” Asoka answered. “About half a dozen.”
“Who was dealing when you had this good fortune, as you claim?”
“Lord Farai was dealing, sir.”
Lieutenant Abena rubbed his temples. Micol got the feeling he was at once relieved and frustrated by the answers Asoka had given. “Alright, then. Until I hear otherwise, it seems you made a fair deal. You’ll have to release the manservant; he’s not a slave, and therefore his ownership can’t be transferred to you. But I will allow you to keep the horse, provided you can care for it outside of your regular duties.”
Asoka’s grin widened. “That’s the beauty of it, sir. Lord Farai transferred his contract to me, all paid up through the end of the year. He can take car
“Don’t smile too broadly, son. There’s still the matter of leaving your post unmanned. Given the story you spun, it seems to me you must have been gone for some time. How long do you reckon it was, Micol?”
Micol shook himself, surprised to be pulled into the conversation. “I don’t know, sir. Probably an hour or so.”
“Your camaraderie is admirable. Since you have no problem lying to me and putting the whole camp in danger, I think you deserve the same punishment as your friend. The pair of you are assigned to latrine duty for the next seven months. Also, I’m looking for soldiers to cover the Gray Masques’ old watch. Micol knows this. I was going to select a group of three or four, but given this fiasco I think I’ll keep things simple. You two will cover all the were-hour watches. The remaining watches will be split among the company.”
“But sir...” Micol said, trailing off at a look from the lieutenant.
“Believe me, you’re getting off easy. I’ve half a mind to send you to the Ma’isan front for neglect of duty.”
Micol grimaced, stifling the rest of his complaint. Guarding the village of Lelet may have been a boring assignment, but at least it was a safe one. They were far enough from the front as to be out of danger, and he wasn’t about to let his big mouth wreck it.
“As luck would have it,” the lieutenant said, once it was clear no more arguments were coming, “Your watch is nearly over. Your old watch, that is. Your new watch is just starting. I’m sure the Gray Masques could benefit from a little more sleep on the last night before their departure.”
Asoka and Micol shared a look, daring each other to protest. We’ve been up the whole night, Micol wanted to say. But he doubted the lieutenant would care.
Lieutenant Abena raised his voice to address the rest of the company. “That’s right, the Gray Masques will be leaving tomorrow. I hope you lot learned something from them, because we aren’t likely to see such accomplished guests again anytime soon. I expect you to continue to show them the respect and courtesy you’ve shown them the last few weeks. Now, back to bed. I think we all need some rest after this excitement.”
As the rest of the company returned to their tents, Lieutenant Abena lowered his voice to speak to Micol and Asoka. “Do not think my threat hollow, boys. If I so much as see you nodding off at your post again, I’ll ship you to the front so fast that… that… well, it’ll be faster than you can imagine. Hmph.” With that, the lieutenant left as well.
Micol waited for the footsteps to die down before turning to his friend. “I know you explained where the horse and manservant came from, but where did you get that ridiculous headdress?”
Asoka’s eyes twinkled as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask. “This, my friend, is the source of my good fortune. A woman put it into the pot after the third hand I played. Claimed it was a worthless trinket, but I recognized it from Rorsche’s Compendium.”
“Rorsche’s Compendium? What’s that?”
“It’s an old book I read when I was a kid. Lists all the known tuqara of the time.”
“Tucara?”
“Tuqara,” Asoka corrected. “An aspect artifact? Seemingly ordinary item imbued with the power of the immortals?” He sighed. “You’re hopeless.”
“Okay, so a tuqara is a magical artifact. And you think that ridiculous thing is one?”
“Why not? Those last hands I was talking about? I played all of them with the headdress on, and it was like I couldn’t lose no matter what I did. I think this thing is magical, Micol.”
“Yeah, well, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“You’re just mad because we got latrine duty,” Asoka said.
“Of course I’m mad about that! And the were-hour watch as well. And I didn’t even get a horse or a manservant out of the deal.”
Asoka clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Aww, don’t be like that. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you order him around too. He’ll be our manservant. As for latrine duty, I’m sure Barke wouldn’t mind helping. Would you, Barke?” He shook the manservant’s leg.
A groan was his only answer.
“See? Barke would be happy to dig the latrines for us. He’s just having a hard time speaking in complete sentences right now. To tell you the truth, he was drinking nearly as much as Lord Farai.”
“Great,” Micol said. “So this new manservant of yours is an alcoholic. You know the lieutenant will hold you responsible if he steals any mead from the company’s stores?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see what the headdress has to say about it.”
Chapter 2
Idris
Late afternoon light cast the throne room of Vicrum in hues of orange and gold. Marble tiles lined the entrance for forty feet on either side, rising up in a long march of steps leading to the gilded throne of Idris Tevulun, the sixty-first king of Accalia.
Idris leaned against the rear cushion of his throne, filling the chamber with his uneven snoring. Wrinkles framed his mouth in the shape of a permanent frown; his bushy brows had likewise been worn into submission until they stayed furrowed even as he slept. A messenger bedecked in yellow and red inched toward him, his footsteps light against the ground; he clearly didn’t relish the idea of disturbing the king’s nap.
The guard standing to Idris’ left nudged the guard on the right, smirking at the poor messenger. Both men watched his approach with eager fascination.
“Father, someone’s here for you,” a girl said. She was crossing the room with a pile of books, but she paused long enough to make sure the king had heard her.
Idris blinked back the dregs of sleep. “Thank you, Cora.” To the messenger, “Well, what is it?”
The messenger bowed low before responding. “Sir, Prelate Gratianos sent me. He wanted me to inform you that your daughter has been given a temporary reprieve from the Ma’isan front. She’ll arrive in the city within a fortnight.”
The effect on Idris was immediate; his hands closed like talons around each arm of the gilded throne. “My daughter is already here, as she has been for the past twelve years.”
“I meant your other daughter, Your Highness.” The messenger blanched. “Calamity.”
“The aspect is no blood of mine, boy. As to her leaving the front, I would question the wisdom of such a move. Has Gratianos given up on protecting our lands from the Ma’isans? How does he intend to hold Fovas without her assistance?”
“I—I don’t think anyone’s given up, Your Highness. All I was told was Calamity would be arriving soon and I should give you warning so that you could prepare.”
“And you took it upon yourself to name her as my daughter?”
“I thought since… I didn’t realize it was a…” The messenger trailed off, failing to find an end to the sentence that wouldn’t make matters worse.
King Idris sat forward in his chair, his brows knitting as he decided what to do with the man. Finally, he released his pent-up breath. “Your message is received. You may leave now.” He glared at the messenger, who stumbled down several steps in his rush to escape the king’s wrath.
Red-faced, the messenger scrambled back to his feet. His eyes remained glued to the tiles as he double-timed his way out of the chamber.
Once he was out of sight, Idris rose from his throne. To his guards, he said, “I’ve grown tired. I’m going to retire to my room. If any more petitioners come, tell them they will have to wait until tomorrow.”
The guard to his left nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. We’ll ensure you’re left in peace for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Thank you. Do we still have venison stored from the last hunt?”
“I don’t believe so, Your Highness.”
Idris sighed. “Shame. In that case, have the cooks prepare a mutton stew. I’m in the mood for an early dinner.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said, but Idris barely heard him. He strode out of the throne room, following the path his daughter had taken. She would be in her chambers no doubt, studying the books he’d seen her carrying.
As expected, Idris found Cora at her desk. He leaned against the doorway, watching her in silence.
Cora looked up at him after a few seconds. “Do you need something, Father?”
