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Table of Contents
Bonus Books Section
Mordred
Night Wolves – Book 1
By Lisa Daniels
Chapter One
Kiara dangled from the branch of a tree. She cursed silently as she swung in a haphazard way. The rope tightened around her right leather boot, and she kicked aimlessly with the other. The basket full of herbs tumbled to the ground and blood rushed to her face. It turned to bright embarrassment when the royal huntsman stepped out from the softly glowing undergrowth, barely concealing the laughter upon his face.
Lightweavings swirled about his face, conjured up by the enchanted necklace and gloves he wore. Kiara's own light necklace currently lay upon the ground, dulled from lack of contact with skin. The grass beneath had a reddish blue glow, a result of the ultra-violet enchanting to help it thrive. Same with the tree.
“Hello, Princess,” he said. “How's it hanging?”
“Dark take you,” Kiara spat. She attempted to reach for her leg again. She fumbled for the knot and failed miserably.
“Do you want me to help or not? Otherwise I can stand here and watch until dusknight.”
She scrabbled uselessly at the knot. “This is one of yours, isn't it, Mandorin?”
“Yup.” Mandorin seemed rather proud of this fact. “You're going to need a knife for that little baby. One I conveniently happen to have.” He produced a knife from his belt, which glimmered with a strange blue sheen. A softer kind of lightweaving compared to the necklaces, which they needed to see throughout the endless dark.
Eventually, Princess Kiara conceded, allowing Mandorin to help cut her down. “You know,” he said, “I was told by your father to come and find you. Again. You do like running out, right before those important meetings, don't you?” He helped her down, and she picked up the glow-necklace, which instantly started radiating that familiar, comforting white light. Some people preferred softer hues, like yellow or orange. Others preferred garish colors, such as green or blood red. She favored the simple, clean white pulsing, since it didn't distort her view of the objects she saw, or of the clothes she wore, since she liked to walk around with a little color.
Most people opted for blacks and browns. She retrieved her basket, and placed some of the mushrooms back in it. “Of course. I hate sitting in for all that dreary political mumbling. Save it for my two older sisters. They seem to enjoy it a lot more than me.” Kiara's mouth scrunched up slightly, thinking of Bethany and Violet. Both took to all those boring throne meetings and discussions with tithe-lords with relish. Violet with her husband from the upper reaches of the city—a wealthy merchant with connections all across the world. And Bethany, still searching for an appropriate husband, all to make a better deal for their kingdom.
To help them survive against those which lingered in the absolute black of endless night.
Areas not yet enchanted by lightweavings. Places where the plants died or took on wasted, corrupted forms, fed by alien magic, leaving hostile wastelands. Places where former human cities crumbled, with nothing remaining but dust and worn-down buildings. She paced behind Mandorin now, leaving the Forest of Light and moving instead through the royal gardens, with each plant enchanted to show its true color in the darkness.
Her tutors told her that without the lightweavers, almost all life would have become extinct. Without the sun, which they described as a big ball in the sky, capable of turning the entire land bright, there was no food for the plants, vitamins for the humans and other races, and certainly no way for them to cope otherwise.
Thankfully, the weavers had managed to harness a little of the sun's power for themselves. Enough to give the plants what they needed. Enough for humans to cope.
She barely could imagine such a thing. Enough light to turn back the dark? Impossible. Even their talk of a sun sounded like some long ago dream. Something best consigned to the myths of eras past.
Green light swirled about her boots as she stepped through the grass. Her own personal light danced around her, illuminating her dark strands of hair, and the red, warm and long-sleeved dress that protected her from the worst of the cold. Along with the cloak, of course. She grinned to herself, hands running through some of the wispy colors of the flowers, before they reached the castle entrance. Inside, more light covered the walls, imitating torches, giving off real heat.
“Does Father want me to sit in one of those awful meetings again?” Kiara cracked her knuckles, basket tilting in her arm. She wanted instead to do something more exciting. Hijack a horse-drawn carriage, maybe. Fashion lightweavings into little ghost rats to scare the kitchen staff, or go on a trip with one of the royal huntsmen. Maybe she could ask Mandorin about it. He always had a soft spot for her.
If she'd bothered to sit through the lessons of heat transference, she might know how to combine heat with her lightweavings, and pretend to set people on fire. I should really get around to that at some point.
“I'm not sure, Princess,” Mandorin admitted, growly voice carrying across the short distance, over the sound of clumping boots. “But you can guess he was rather irritated at having to rein you in again.”
“He and Mother are always like that,” Kiara said. “I don't know how they can stand such boring things.”
“You don't seem to stand much for anything at all, if you don't mind me saying. Your parents are lucky to see you in a lesson past an hour.”
“They're boring.” Kiara's eyes traced a painting, before she took one of the mushrooms, examining it, and popping it into her mouth.
“You're easily distracted, it seems.”
“Wouldn't you be? Who wants to sit around and listen to people explain things when you don't care about it? Who wants to sit down and be forced to do nothing?” A small surge of envy went through Kiara. Her sisters were always so patient. She didn't know how they managed staying so perfectly still in a chair. She needed to move something, anything, when she sat down. A leg. A finger. The pencil in her hand. To fidget with her necklace. She loathed being confined to a spot not of her choosing for too long.
Why can't you just be normal? She heard that a lot. Ladies were supposed to be patient and calm. Keep their emotions under wraps. Pay attention to people around them and never bother a man unless he spoke to them first. Etiquette that only worked for higher society, since she saw people in the taverns speaking to each other just fine.
It was true she got distracted a lot. She needed to grit her teeth and focus hard to make sure her wandering brain didn't flit off with yet another random object of interest. Though sometimes, certain subjects were so interesting, she could sit and listen to them all daynight. And that was an impressive achievement on her part.
“I can't really find fault in that,” Mandorin said. “I've always argued that you can't force everyone to do the same thing. People have different kinds of learning, you see.”
Kiara nodded impatiently, already feeling that itch in her feet to go off somewhere. Anywhere but the throne room, and having to face her disapproving parents yet again. They paced along the red-lit carpet, through another set of glowing doors, ending up in the throne room. High up in the ceiling of the throne room, they had enchanted it to give an impression of light blue and white clouds. What people said resembled closely enough a normal “day” that the sun once gave. Impressive, though fanciful. Kiara always found her attention wandering to it when sitting through more war reports or trade issues.
“Finally,” King Alren said. Her dear and rather delightful father, who always seemed perpetually baffled by her. “We need to chain this daughter of ours down, before she ends up wandering off to the bottom of the ocean.”
“You won't be chaining anyone,” Queen Enna said. Princesses Bethany and Violet were there as well, along with Violet's insipid husband, Richmund. Other faces were there, too. People Kiara didn't recognize, but assumed they were here for some kind of trade deal. Her wandering eyes screeched to a halt when they settled upon one of the guests. A man with bright yellow eyes. What?
“What kind of human has yellow eyes?” Kiara blurted.
Her father began rubbing his face, clearly irritated. “We're trying to negotiate with this man, Kiara. Please.”
“But I thought yellow eyes belonged to creatures of the night horde. Why is he here?”
The yellow-eyed man stared at her, one eyebrow raised. She noticed that he wore a glow-necklace.
Bethany made a slicing motion across her neck. The universal sign of shut up or I'll kill you.
Kiara was confused, however, and began anxiously chewing on one of her long, brown strands of hair. Everyone knew that the monsters of the Endless Dark had glowing eyes, like embers in the darkness, which enabled them to see when there was no light. Yet this bearer of yellow eyes was a human and wore a glow-necklace. Perhaps a lightweaving on his eyes? No. Definitely yellow. Lightweavings always had that luminescence about them.
“Is your daughter always this feisty?” the man asked, and Kiara sighed inwardly. Fine. I'll stay quiet.
“Unfortunately,” the king said. Bethany headed over to Kiara to explain quietly what was going on, as the king continued his negotiations. Scribes wrote up what was said as a living record.
“Okay,” Bethany said, pulling Kiara to the side, “here's the short of it. Our kingdom is in trouble. There's been reports of some of our enemies mustering up forces to try and take over, since we're one of the wealthiest Light kingdoms around.” Her lips twisted as she said this. “We should all be working together, but instead, of what few human civilizations that remain, some have decided that it's better to invade us than it is to cooperate with us. We have some allies, but we need more.
“This man comes from a large kingdom as well. Generally, people avoid them because they think they're monster worshippers—but they are powerful, and have been holding their own against the night hordes for generations.”
“By breeding with them, it looks like,” Kiara said, and her sister swatted her on the head.
“Manners! Try not to insult our guests. We must have this alliance. We won't think like the common rabble think. We'll be above everything. And you absolutely must not mess this up.”
Kiara didn't get the pressure her older sister exerted on her. They might be dark-haired and blue-eyed, but that was about where the similarities ended. Bethany always acted so stern, so full of duty and proper manners. Certainly the kind of person everyone expected to soon see married. Kiara appeared like an urchin next to such contrast. People always saw her as some kind of wild child, but Kiara wasn't wild. She just—she didn't want to sit around all day. She'd be quite happy living like one of those huntsmen in the Forest of Light, weaving through the glowing bushes to find the animals there, or doing outdoorsy stuff. She didn't mind a bit of mud or whatever. And that was the thing, wasn't it? That was what made her stand out from her family.
None of them would be seen doing such improper things. Oh no. They had fine breeding, raised to do the duty of their people, to take care of them in these hard times. To do what they must.
“Is it gonna be a marriage deal?”
“Going to be,” Bethany corrected. “And yes, it looks like that might be the way forward. Usually is when dealing with eccentric nations like this. They want a connection, a legitimacy to our nation, and one of the best ways to do that is by forging a marriage bond.”
Which meant Father had finally arranged somewhere for Bethany to go. A pang of loss ate within. Kiara didn't want to see her big sister go just yet.
“Seems stupid,” Kiara said, folding her arms. “Everyone knows marriages don't always work out. You can't just shove two people in a house and hope they'll like each other.”
“It harkens back to the ancient tradition of treating the tribe where we've sent someone to marry, as family,” Bethany hissed. “So in hard times, that tribe comes to us, or us to them.”
“Yeah, but tribes have, like, three hundred people or whatever for their population. We're in the millions. I don't think it works like that.”
“It's a start.” Now Bethany nudged her little sister, forcing her to attempt to focus on whatever boring discussion went on. The king didn't discuss very loud, however. Seemed he only bothered projecting his voice when being disapproving of Kiara. Like they all did.
If only they just let her slip away. Her sisters did everything better anyway, no point following in their shadows.
Kiara noticed her father's eyes widen. He spluttered something to the ambassador. Mother looked as if she wanted to both laugh and cry at the same time. Bethany narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
So, of course, Kiara opened her big mouth again. “What's happening?”
Was that a flicker of guilt in her father's eyes? After some more rushed conversation, her father announced, “We have... come to an agreement. The people of Kanthus are interested in forming an alliance with us. And one of the conditions is to give the hand of one of my daughters in marriage to one of their Highborn.”
Bethany let out a low hiss. Kiara scrambled to remember her lessons on Kanthus, and why people hated trading with them. Something about some heathen religion, calling monsters Highborn or whatever. Too many rumors about that place, and most of them bad. They practised dark rituals. They were cannibalistic, they sacrificed babies to appease their twisted gods. But father said they needed to strike a deal with this kingdom.
By the way her father, mother and ambassador looked specifically at her, Kiara's stomach knotted uneasily. Oh no.
“You're not sending me, are you?”
Her father wiped his head, now beady with sweat. As if already regretting his decision. “Yes. We are.”
Even Bethany's jaw dropped. Her hand tightened on her sister's shoulder. For all Bethany's criticisms, the thought of sending Kiara away hadn't occurred to her either.
“What?” Kiara was unable to hide the utter shock, perhaps tinged with despair, in her voice. “You can't be serious! Who in their right mind would send me?”
Clearly uncomfortable, her father persisted with the madness anyway. “Don't resist me on this, child. The decision is final.”
And just like that, all of Kiara's dreams about becoming the first female huntswoman, of living a rogue life, swept under the nose of all those who mattered... ended.
The guards closed in on her. They knew her impulsive nature, knew she might try to flee.
Humiliated, she was escorted to her bedroom to wait for the negotiations to finish. To leave her home forever, to marry a stranger.
A monster.