Kingdoms of Shadow and Ash

  KINGDOMS OF SHADOW AND ASH

  HR MOORE

  Published by Harriet Moore

  Copyright © 2022 HR Moore

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author.

  IBSN: 9781739721923

  Titles by HR Moore:

  The Relic Trilogy:

  Queen of Empire

  Temple of Sand

  Court of Crystal

  In the Gleaming Light

  The Ancient Souls Series:

  Nation of the Sun

  Nation of the Sword

  Nation of the Stars

  Shadow and Ash:

  Kingdoms of Shadow and Ash

  http://www.hrmoore.com

  CONTENTS

  MAP

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  PREVIEW OF NATION OF THE SUN

  PART 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  CONNECT WITH HR MOORE

  MAP

  To view this online, go to:

  www.hrmoore.com/knownworld

  Chapter One

  FYIA CREPT AROUND THE circular battlement, her heart thundering in her chest, her back pressed against the cold, hard stone. The big, full moon cast eerie shadows, and every flicker sent adrenaline through her veins.

  King Perdes lay in wait, but he didn't know from which side she would approach, and Fyia wanted to keep it that way.

  I am not a warrior. I am not a warrior. I am not a warrior. She silently chanted the words like a prayer; a reminder she had to be smart. She was swift, and she was nimble, and she was stealthy.

  She inched further around the battlement, looking down at her black pants and tunic one last time, making sure nothing would reflect the moonbeams. She'd smeared her face and hands with mud, her hat pulled low on her brow, hiding the shock of white that punctuated her long brown hair.

  I am not a warrior.

  She took one torturous sidestep at a time, placing each foot with extreme care. Three steps and she would be in sight.

  Fyia summoned her power, a wild pull of magic, and called to her Cruaxee. An eagle—her eagle—cried out in the distance. Perdes inhaled sharply and shuffled his feet. She let silence fall until it yawned menacingly into the night.

  'No. Stay back,' said Perdes, his voice directed to the other side of the battlements. No surprise, given the two wolves she'd sent to stare him down.

  I am not a warrior. But …

  She ran on light feet, making no sound, then leapt, her wolves snarling, keeping Perdes engaged. She sank her dagger into his back once, twice, then pulled it out, whirling away as he tried to face her. He looked surprised as he collapsed to the floor.

  'Filthy cheat,' he spluttered, wheezing through the blood.

  Fyia leaned against the battlements, her wolves coming to her side. She wiped and sheathed her dagger. 'Well, here's the thing, Perdes … I wouldn't have won if I'd challenged you to a fair fight.'

  'Women have no honor.'

  'You want those to be your last words?'

  'My army will defeat you.'

  'Last I checked, your commanders had surrendered, and were drinking with my generals in my war tent.'

  'My people will never follow you,' he choked, blood leaking from his mouth. 'They follow warriors, kings, not little women.'

  Fyia laughed. 'You're right, I'm no warrior. I am not tall and broad and formidable to look at. But turns out I can stick a dagger in a man's back just fine. Not to mention, I have a few assets you do not …'

  'Witch …' He made a disgusting gurgling noise, and then his eyes fluttered closed.

  'Careful, if the Fae'ch hear you, they'll curse your afterlife … they would never class me among their ranks.'

  'You are nothing next to me …' He dragged in a breath. 'I am a king!'

  'And yet, I have my army, yours too, my magic, and, oh yes, I have a brain—something you lack … something all of you lacked. You got fat and lazy, and I conquered five kingdoms. I believe I'm the only leader alive who can lay claim to that.'

  He grunted, but no words followed.

  Fyia crouched by his side and watched as he took his last labored breath, then reached down and removed his crown. She'd put it with the others … she'd cast it into the fiery pits of Hell.

  Fyia walked out under the portcullis, then across the bridge over the castle's moat, her wolves flanking her. She'd removed her hat, and her hair flowed freely down her back, Perdes' crown perched atop her head.

  Her generals waited, a sea of lower-ranking commanders behind them. She emerged like an angel of death, a witch, someone to be feared, her beasts snarling at her side.

  Sensis Deimos, the leader of Fyia's victorious army, stepped forward, throwing herself to her knees before her Queen. The others did the same, no one daring to look up. They barely dared to breathe.

  'Rise, Sensis,' said Fyia. Sensis was tall and powerfully built, with long, plaited auburn hair and pale green eyes. 'Do something with this, until we can rid ourselves of the gaudy thing.' She threw Perdes' crown, and Sensis caught it with ease.

  'Of course, Your Majesty,' said Sensis, bowing her head.

  Fyia offered Sensis her forearm, and her general clasped it, her grip brutal. Fyia pulled Sensis in until their bodies collided, Fyia's head reaching just above her friend's shoulder, and Sensis slapped her on the back.

  'You can get a five-pointed crown now,' Sensis said, her voice pitched low so none of the others could hear. 'Maybe with a gem from each kingdom … it would set off your pretty blue witch eyes.'

  'Piss off,' said Fyia. 'Actually, don't … do something useful and get a celebration going.'

  'It is my greatest honor to serve you in any way you desire,' she said. She stepped back and bowed low.

  'Don't make me punch you in the face.'

  'If you're going to threaten violence, at least make it realistic.' Fyia's wolves growled. 'See, now I'm scared.'

  'Good. I'm …' Fyia trailed off, her gaze finding the woods beyond her general's shoulder.

  'Go,' said Sensis. 'I'll hold down the fort until you return.' Sensis surveyed the curious commanders. They were still on their knees, most chancing glances at their Queen. 'King Perdes is dead,' she said, in a voice that carried … a voice used to being obeyed. 'Long live Fyia Orlightus, Queen of the Five Kingdoms of the East.'

  Fyia acknowledged the cheers of her army, a thrill travelling up her spine at what she'd accomplished. What they'd all accomplished.

  Fyia took off into the woods, her army still chanting her name, Sensis issuing orders, quieting them down.

  Fyia's shoeless feet ate up the ground, each pace renewing her connection with the forest. She drew on the power it offered, letting it fill her, pushing out the terror that lingered from the battlements. Her wolves chased her, pushing her faster, others joining them, snarling as they ran. Fyia pumped her arms, sprinting, flying, letting the forest show her the way.

  She broke through the tree line, heading for the sheer drop over a cliff not fifty paces away. The wolves fell back, snarling as she ran for the edge, their discomfort peppering the bond between them. Fyia didn't falter, didn't miss a step as sh
e threw herself into the void, her arms outstretched.

  The wolves howled, and Fyia gasped, relishing the rush of wind that bit her skin.

  She fell and fell and laughed, knowing it would kill her. At this speed, if she hit the river, the impact would be fatal, but the rush … the rush chased all the things she needed it to away. It left freedom … euphoria.

  An eagle screamed below, and Fyia closed her eyes, connecting with her Cruaxee, watching through the eagle's eyes as the enormous bird swooped under her, caught her, slowed her fall, then reversed it.

  The pump of the eagle's wings made Fyia's stomach drop, and she laughed again. They climbed, and she shivered with anticipation, excitement flooding her when she felt the downward tip, the beginning of a dive. Only when they were hurtling towards the ground once more did it finally begin to sink in: she was Queen of the Five Kingdoms.

  She'd done it; what everyone had said she could never do … that she should not do … that the magic would not tolerate. They'd been wrong; the magic had wanted her to win, had aided her at every turn. Of course it had. She had a Cruaxee, was magic-touched, and fire-touched—even if only a little. She had more magic than most could ever dream of.

  And finally, it was done … she'd slain the old Kings and united five kingdoms. She ruled them all.

  Adigos stalked through the camp, past fire after fire, group after group of drunken soldiers. They didn't care who'd won the war, not really. They only cared it was over, that they could go back to their children, wives, and lovers. They drank, not because Fyia had united their five bickering kingdoms, but because they hoped to never dig latrines again. To never march day and night to outsmart their enemy. To never face another battlefield, nor lose friends to an enemy blade. They rejoiced, for they would eat slops no more—at least if their purses could afford it.

  They were drunk and spirited, and it was contagious.

  Adigos walked and walked, careful to keep to the shadows. He passed brawls, card games, bodies passed out on the floor, bodies writhing against each other, all manner of sounds escaping into the night. He was jealous of their carefree existence, if only for this one night. He'd had that once, and he wanted it again.

  He finally reached the barn near the castle's walls. The invading forces had commandeered it for their officers' mess, and the sounds of a party blared from inside. But outside, the mood was tense.

  The Queen's bodyguard stood watch, guarding a twenty-pace perimeter around the building, and those at the campfires were subdued, brooding, the air heavy with some unspoken threat.

  Adigos paused at a fire close to the perimeter where an old man warmed himself. The man watched the barn intently, not seeming to notice Adigos.

  'May I sit?' Adigos asked.

  The man's head turned, his features cast in shadow. 'If you must.'

  'Not celebrating?' said Adigos, lowering himself onto a tree stump. This far south, it was warm most of the year, but the nights were cool, and Adigos held out his hands to the fire, the familiar habit comforting.

  'What is there to celebrate? My King is dead, and now we have a witch queen.' He practically spat the words.

  'You liked King Perdes?' asked Adigos, picking up a stick and poking at the embers.

  'Served him my whole life.'

  'Was he a good king?'

  'Was to me.'

  'To his people? Did they love him?'

  'You're not from these lands?' said the man. He scrutinized Adigos anew.

  'No,' said Adigos, 'and I've been away awhile. Did they? Love him? They loved the King in my lands before she …'

  The man nodded his wizened features, as though Adigos had just fallen into place in his mind. 'I can't say they all did, but I did, and I'm not alone.' His words were menacing and full of promise. Not everyone would make things easy on the new Queen, then.

  The man turned back to the barn, and Adigos followed his gaze. A flicker of movement in the trees caught Adigos' attention. He watched carefully as a shadow crept from trunk to trunk, and a slow, victorious smile spread across his lips.

  'Have a good evening,' said Adigos, getting to his feet. The man made a non-committal noise, and Adigos melted into the woods, trailing the shadow he'd come to see.

  Adigos crept through the woods, staying downwind, placing his feet with the utmost care, so as not to snap a twig or stumble on a root. The moon shone brightly, the trees sparse, allowing him to see a way ahead, and he finally spotted her, leaning against a tree. She observed the back entrance to the barn, and his pulse quickened. She was out here all alone, and she hadn't sensed him …

  Adigos unsheathed his dagger and moved forward, praying she would stay put, that she was too preoccupied to feel his approach. He used the cover of the shadows, the sounds of the hooting owls and rattle of the snakes, the wind creaking the branches and rustling the leaves.

  She shifted, pushing away from the tree as though finally deciding to go inside, but Adigos was so close he could almost touch her, and he would not let her get away. He lunged, grabbing her waist with one hand, holding his dagger to her throat with the other, relishing the power he held in his hands.

  'It's not safe out in the woods alone,' Adigos growled into her ear.

  'I'm never alone …' The woman tipped back her head and walked her fingers up his arm. She found his head, which still hovered near her ear, and grabbed a handful of his hair. She tugged, just hard enough to make him part his lips. She did it again, and he had to fight the urge to groan. 'Took you long enough,' said his Queen.

  He ran his nose down her neck. 'You knew I was here?'

  'My wolves picked up your scent days ago. Why did you wait so long?'

  'After what happened last time, I thought it better to … gather intelligence.'

  'Wise choice.'

  Adigos brushed his lips against her neck. She shivered, then pushed his dagger arm away. She faced him, his arm still on her waist, and he pulled her towards him, lowering his head.

  She shoved him away. 'Debrief me after the feast.'

  He could do nothing but watch as she made her way towards the barn, two of her wolves appearing out of the darkness to walk at her side. Adigos took a deep breath, clearing his lungs of her intoxicating scent, then trailed in her wake.

  The barn—which Sensis had done a passable job of turning into a feasting hall—went silent when Fyia entered. All except Rouel—a member of her personal guard who could have made a lucrative living as a minstrel—who was in the middle of a particularly catchy refrain. He sketched a bow that had his hand skimming the floor, staying down until he finished the song. Fyia shot him an arch look as she walked to the makeshift dais and throne.

  She sat, and her wolves lay at her feet. 'Continue,' she said, gesturing to Rouel to get on with it. Music flared from his lute, and the party resumed. She ignored the incessant looks in her direction, most furtive, but plenty blatant.

  Sensis, and Edu Ceres, the head of her personal guard, approached the dais. They made a show of bowing low before Fyia beckoned them forward, so they could take their places behind her, one on each side. They looked remarkably similar to one another, the same height, broad shoulders, straight noses, and fair skin, although Edu's muscles seemed somehow less impressive, and he had a shock of white hair, tied back in a bun.

  'Fun party,' said Fyia, sardonically. She hated these things, but knew them to be a necessary evil. It was better for her subjects to see who she really was than create a persona of their own, and she enjoyed watching her wolves fan the flames of the fear her reputation had already kindled. 'Anyone I should worry about?'

  'No,' said Sensis, at the same time as Edu said, 'Yes.'

  Sensis rolled her eyes. 'You take things too seriously, my friend.'

  'That's my job,' said Edu. 'I have one person to keep alive. If you lose a few on the battlefield, that's war. If I lose Fyia …'

  'It's called taking calculated risks to ensure victory, and we're here, so I'd say it paid off,' said Sensis. 'It's no di
fferent with the safety of our Queen … maybe you should try it sometime and let her enjoy herself.'

  'The day I start taking notes from you is the day we should cast our eyes to the line of succession …'

  'There's a line of succession?' said Sensis.

  Fyia could hear the smile on Sensis' lips, and was sure Edu would be fighting one of his own. There was no line of succession—as her critics kept reminding her—but that was a problem for another day.

  'Are you two done?' said Fyia.

  'For now,' said Sensis.

  'What concerns you, Edu?'

  'The big one over there,' said Edu.

  Fyia found the very large, very attractive man gesticulating in their general direction.

  'Who is he?' said Fyia.

  Sensis laughed. 'He's King Perdes' distant cousin. The rest of his family fled when they realized they'd lost.'

  'He's taking a … different approach,' said Edu.

  'Which is?' asked Fyia.

  'You'll see,' said Sensis, doing a poor job of hiding her amusement.

  'Oh, Mother …' said Fyia. She fought to keep her expression neutral as the man began moving towards the dais.

  'Don't pray to her,' said Sensis. 'She can't help you.'

  'Then who would you suggest?'

  'The Warrior,' said Edu, 'to help you fight him off.'

  'The Whore,' said Sensis. 'Might give you some tips.'

  'Helpful,' said Fyia.

  'The Friend,' said Rouel, who had perched his slight frame on the edge of the dais, 'to tell you nothing about that man looks problematic at all.'

  'Or … oh, my …' said Sensis. 'Maybe you should seek help from a jealous almost-former-lover …'

  Adigos had just slipped in through the door.

  'Wait, they never did it?' said Edu, looking to Sensis for confirmation.

  'I don't think they ever did … wait, did you?' said Sensis.

  'Could we deal with one problem at a time?' said Fyia. She eyed Perdes' cousin, who was getting dangerously close, and seemed a little unsteady on his feet.