Reign of Madness (King's Dark Tidings Book 2) Read online

  King’s Dark Tidings

  Book Two

  Reign of Madness

  By Kel Kade

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events in this novel are fictitious. Opinions and beliefs expressed by the characters do not reflect the author’s opinions and beliefs.

  This book is intended for adult readers. It contains graphic violence, creative language, and sexual innuendo. This book does not contain explicit sexual content.

  Text copyright © 2016 Kel Kade

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system.

  Written and Illustrated by Kel Kade

  King’s Dark Tidings Series

  Free the Darkness

  Reign of Madness

  Acknowledgement

  Thank you to my family and my most patient and understanding daughter who have encouraged and supported me throughout this writing process.

  Map of Eastern Ashai

  Map of the Souelian Sea

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Characters

  Definitions

  About the Author

  Note from the Author

  Prologue

  King’s Dark Tidings

  In the darkness with no ember, cold coals bear no flaming tinder,

  All the shadows man resemble, in the darkness wise men tremble.

  Prodigious foes made thee for pointless sake of prosaic power;

  Visited upon thyself no vestige of vision by late night’s hour;

  In the stillness of normal eve, in longing for the night’s reprieve,

  In air and earth arise a faint and subtle shift – ‘tis folly’s gift.

  With tremulous breath, whisper faintly from thy spirit’s tower –

  “Woe to me!” thy soul says – “Cometh nigh the Rez.”

  Know not the source of sudden searching – terrorizing, inner lurching,

  Not of fallen feet on fitted floors or creaks and sways of distant doors;

  Know ye cometh darkness, ‘tis this oath of righteous reign’s foul reaping,

  In the silent stillness plead thy heart doth surcease salient streaking.

  But why within, the heated rush, when without, all’s well and hush?

  Be this mourning mists of magnanimous Maker? – the soul’s taker?

  Calls thy soul from madness, distant mind of fear-filled keeping –

  “Forsaken am I!” thy mind says – “Cometh nigh the Rez.”

  Whether merchant, sword, or money taker, son of lord or common baker,

  None escape when cursed with Knight, fall thee all by morning light.

  By thy virtue – desirous dissidence, drawn ye an inexorable imperious ire;

  Cleanse thy soul with steel or poison, drown in pool or blaze in fire.

  Never hear the slip of blade, never spy foul form or ghostly shade,

  Never taste the tincture’s tasteless tinge on tongue – cook’s praises sung.

  Nightly wakeful walking midst the walls and anxious dreams turn dire –

  “Maker, save me!” thy prayer says, “Cometh nigh the Rez.”

  Field of foe or Father’s breaker, never slip beyond the taker,

  Gracious court and pristine ball, in Maker’s house and saintly hall,

  Bulwark’s burden, breadth of boundary, lock and bar and solid door,

  Talents of a warded wielder, whispered prayers from ancient lore,

  Wealth and title, promise paid, a sultry seduction, no hand is stayed.

  Never bar nor divert passage of thy regal call – await thy fall!

  Penance paid by blood, thy witness, righteous raven’s razing soar –

  “Gone be thee!” thy voice says, “Cometh nigh the Rez.”

  At the hour, on the morrow, not with certain sadness, woe, or sorrow,

  Prey ye never see him coming, never feel thy heart’s hard thrumming.

  May ye never mind the missive, forbidden song unsung in writings –

  In dark and devilish dirge, “Come I to thee with King’s Dark Tidings,”

  Fall to dream, thy breath deceased, dance with sylph, a soul released,

  But ‘twas day! – with bright and luminous halls – no shadowed walls!

  Knight of Shadows, ruler’s summons; ride thee swiftly, bear no sightings –

  “Kingdom calls,” yon mark says – “Cometh nigh, the Rez.”

  Chapter 1

  The young travelers left General Marcum’s estate in a mixture of excitement and apprehension. After an uninterrupted trek through the city, they met up on the docks near the Luna Mara. Frisha’s cousins and their entourage had yet to arrive. Captain Jimson was standing to one side going over the paperwork with the dock master and ship’s captain. Frisha stood huddled next to Tam, and both were staring at Rezkin who was tending to Pride several yards away. He was dressed in the most ostentatious finery they had ever seen on their companion. He wore a fine silk doublet in charcoal and silver brocade over a silver silk shirt and dark charcoal breeches. About his waist was a shiny, embossed black belt with a large silver buckle embedded with several large emeralds and sapphires.

  From his belt hung his two swords, whose scabbards were now clamped within cages of silver filigree inset with a number of sapphires. Hanging from each were dark blue silk tassels that swung as he strutted about in a manner they had never seen from their friend. His high boots were made of high-quality, soft, black leather. Rezkin’s hair was not pulled back into the usual queue, but rather was plaited past his shoulders and tied with a silver silk ribbon whose ends hung half way down the man’s back. Rezkin was a picture of perfection if one were painting an idealized haughty noble.

  Reaylin had only just arrived at the docks and was leaning over Frisha and Tam’s shoulders as she asked, “What is Rez wearing and why is he acting like that?”

  Frisha shook her head and said, “I have no idea. He changed after breakfast and told us to just go with it. I can’t imagine how he could even afford all that, much less why he would want to.”

  Reaylin’s eyes roved over the young warrior, and she said, “It looks good on him, though.”

  Releasing a wistful sigh, Frisha said, “It really does. He looks so dashing. He’s exactly how I imagine the heroic prince would look as he sweeps the princess off her feet.”

  Tam laughed and commented, “I’m pretty sure you both said the same thing when you saw him wearing nothing at all.”

  Both girls’ faces flushed, and they simultaneously took to pummeling Tam. Rezkin glanced over at the raucous group with a questioning lift of his brow. The girls flushed again as they composed themselves. Just then, two fine coaches drew up at the end of the dock. The second coach was unoccupied but was filled to capacity with numerous bags and trunks. From the first coac
h stepped Frisha’s cousins and their friend, Lord Brandt. Every one of them was dressed just as grandly as Rezkin. All three men were wearing fancy doublets and breeches with gaudy accessories, and their hair was plaited in the same manner as Rezkin’s. Shiela fussed with her lavender gown that fell in waves of layer upon layer of silks and laces. Her dark brown hair was pulled over one shoulder and was curled and wound about itself within a fine lace netting. She wore short, white lace gloves and grasped a parasol that matched her gown, which she immediately opened upon stepping out of the coach.

  Several servants had been crammed atop the coaches with the drivers. Two of the male servants were directing the deckhands to the luggage while another assisted a petite, timid woman in a drab servant’s smock to the ground. The tiny woman promptly began patting down Shiela’s gown, ensuring no wrinkles could be seen.

  Once the four young nobles were satisfied that their attire had survived the short coach ride through the city, they began making their way down the dock. The servants and a number of dockworkers began unloading the luggage coach and were already passing by the strutting nobles. Shiela, who seemed to be in the lead, stopped a few paces short of Frisha and her companions. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed disdainfully as she eyed Frisha’s sensible tunic and pants.

  “Frisha,” she said, “Cousin, it is a pleasure to see you again, I am sure.” Her tone made it seem like it was anything but a pleasure.

  Lords Malcius and Palis next greeted their cousin with little more than a slight bow. They even neglected to introduce their friend. Well, Frisha would not be so rude.

  “Malcius, Palis, Shiela, this is my friend Tamarin Blackwater, and this is Reaylin de Voss,” Frisha announced. All three nodded vaguely and mumbled something that sounded like “pleasure” without actually acknowledging the presence of Frisha’s companions. At that moment, Rezkin chose to make an appearance.

  He strode up to the group with a broad smile and overly loud, cheery voice. “Greetings! It is a pleasure to finally meet you all. Ah, you must be Lord Malcius,” Rezkin said as he clasped forearms with the young man in a familiar greeting between close friends and peers. Malcius and Palis both had the dark brown hair that ran in the Jebai family, but while Palis’s eyes matched the warm brown of Frisha’s, Malcius’s were a soft grey like his mother’s. The older brother had broad shoulders and was slightly taller, about six feet, while the younger brother had a leaner, wiry build.

  Malcius grinned and greeted Rezkin with just as much enthusiasm, “And, you must be Lord Rezkin! I heard you would be traveling with us. Our uncle spoke highly of you.” Frisha and Tam shared a surprised glance, both thinking the same thing. “Please, allow me to introduce my companions. This is my brother, Palis.” The warrior-turned-noble clasped arms with Palis and exchanged pleasantries. Malcius motioned to the young woman and said, “And, this is our sister, Shiela.”

  Rezkin bowed low and intoned, “Lady Shiela, it is most gracious of you to bless us with your stunning presence.” He gave her his best smile, the one that women seemed to prefer. Shiela blushed as Rezkin brushed a soft kiss across her hand.

  “Oh, Lord Rezkin, the pleasure is mine, I am sure.” The way she spoke most definitely made it sound like a pleasure. “You are one fine gentleman.”

  Rezkin bowed slightly, again, and said, “Thank you, Lady Shiela, that means much coming from a lovely lady such as you.” Shiela actually giggled as she fanned her face with a lacy hand.

  Malcius grinned and continued, “And, this is our good friend, Lord Brandt of House Gerrand.”

  Not having a direct connection to Lord Brandt, Rezkin gave him a more formal bow in greeting rather than the familiar one he had used with the Jebais. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Brandt,” Rezkin stated. “If I might be so bold, I would just like to say that I have always admired your mother’s artistry.”

  Brandt’s brows rose in surprise, “You are familiar with my mother’s work?”

  “Of course! Lady Gerrand has a way of capturing the light with a softness that makes one feel as if he is looking upon a dream. It is quite easy to forget that underneath the fantasy lies simple paint and canvas,” Rezkin remarked.

  “I had never really thought of it that way, but you are correct. I can see it, now. Which is your favorite?” Brandt asked curiously.

  “I once had the pleasure of looking upon The Lilies of the Lake.” Rezkin shifted his gaze to Shiela and grinned as he mock-lowered his voice conspiratorially. “If I did not know any better, I could swear that fairies lived among them,” he confided with a wink. Shiela giggled and blushed as she batted her lashes.

  Reaylin, who was standing behind the stunned Frisha and Tam, leaned forward and whispered, “Oh, he’s good. I didn’t know the tough warrior had that in him.”

  “Say, Lord Rezkin,” Malcius spoke up, “is that your magnificent beast?” Malcius waved a manicured hand toward Pride who was standing further down the dock. The reins hung limply, brushing the ground in a silent command for the horse to remain where he was. Pride was nearly as opulent as Rezkin today. The stallion’s black coat was clean and brushed to a shine. The embossed black saddle and black and silver bridle were polished, as well. The horse’s mane and tail were braided and woven with silver ribbons in a parade style.

  “Why, yes, he is. But, please, you may dispense with the title. I am quite sure none of you will forget who I am. Just call me Rezkin, although my friends sometimes prefer to call me Rez,” the young man said with such confidence it was infectious.

  “Yes, quite right, Rezkin…Rez. It would please me if you called me Malcius, as well,” the noble replied. Frisha’s jaw dropped. Her egotistical cousin never dropped his title – for anyone. No doubt Malcius thought he would look weak and insecure if he insisted on continuing to use his title after Rez’s speech. The announcement was followed by a round of permissions by all to dispense with the titles. In only a matter of moments, Rezkin had completely disarmed the nobles of their pretentious snobbery, at least as far as he was concerned.

  “You were speaking of the horse?” Shiela prompted demurely as she batted her lashes.

  “Yes, tell us about the stallion,” Palis piped up. “It is massive. I have not seen the like. The only horse I have seen that comes close is Uncle Marcum’s.”

  “What breed is it? Is it of the Cronelis stock?” asked Brandt.

  Rezkin grinned like he was holding all of the candy. “No, Palis is quite right. He is a purebred battle charger of the Augmerian line. I call him Pride.”

  The men’s jaws were slack as glances darted back and forth between Rezkin and the horse. “But, that is the king’s stock,” protested Malcius.

  Rezkin grinned broader as he placed his hands loosely in his pockets and rocked back on his heals in an uncharacteristic display of pride. “Indeed,” was all he said. “Speaking of which, it is time I get him rigged so they can haul him aboard. You had best keep your distance. He tends to maim or kill anyone but me.”

  The three male lordlings followed Rezkin but kept their distance, whispering between themselves as he removed the saddle and tack and strapped the horse into the harnesses, readying him to be hoisted aboard the ship. The lords looked like children drooling over their new best friend’s amazing toy. Shiela’s eyes never left Rezkin, and every once in a while, he would bend or stoop, and her face would flush. Frisha had no idea what Rezkin was up to, but if he thought for one second that she was going to lose him to Shiela, then he had another thing coming.

  Once everyone was aboard, they received their berth assignments. Rezkin already knew the assignments because he had made them himself. The young warrior assigned himself to share a room with Malcius, while Palis and Brandt shared a second. For strategic reasons, Rezkin would have preferred to place Tam with Brandt, but it would have been considered unseemly for the young lord to share a room with a commoner who was not his manservant. Frisha, Reaylin, Shiela, and Shiela’s maid, Tami, were assigned to share a four-person berth. Re
zkin could get away with placing Reaylin in the room since she was the only other female onboard. As both officers and nobility, Captain Jimson and Lieutenant Drascon shared a berth; and Tam was left to bunk with Sergeant Millins as commoners. The four Jebai house guards shared another four-person room, while the other servants were placed with the crew.

  The rooms were small and cramped since two or three of the berths could possibly fit into a single average room at an inn. When it came to the confines of a ship, it seemed the nobles preferred privacy over space. Malcius looked around and wondered, “Where are the rest of my belongings?”

  Rezkin laughed, a sound that would have seemed unnatural to anyone who knew him but sounded genuine and effortless to the unsuspecting lord. “I do not know about you, but I would prefer not to sleep on a trunk.” Rezkin waved a dismissive hand at the two trunks that had been placed at the ends of their respective beds. “I believe we only need one in here at time. The rest are stored in the hold below. If you require something, I am sure one of those crewmen will be delighted to retrieve it for you.” In order to keep up appearances, Rezkin was also traveling with several trunks. It would have looked odd for a noble of his unspecified, but presumably high, standing to be traveling with nothing more than a single pack and saddlebags. So far, no one was willing to risk offending him by questioning his place within the ranks of the nobility.

  Since the crew had situated their belongings and Rezkin had already seen to Pride, there was little to do. He and the other passengers found themselves standing on the deck waiting to depart. The women approached the huddle of young men. All three wore sour expressions, but Frisha and Reaylin stood back as Shiela sidled up in exasperation.

  Malcius grinned and said, “Ah, Sister, so nice of you to join us.”

  Shiela batted her lashes at Rezkin to whom she directed her answer. “Nothing could keep me away,” she said with syrupy sweetness.