Black Rose Queen: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 3 Read online

  Black Rose Queen

  Black Rose Sorceress, Book 3

  Connie Suttle

  SubtleDemon Publishing, LLC

  Copyright © 2017 by Connie Suttle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN-10: 1-63478-012-4

  ISBN-13: 978-1-63478-012-4

  Cover Art by Renee Barratt, at The Cover Counts

  To Walter, Joe, Larry, Sarah, Lee, Dianne, and Mark

  Thank you

  And for those who waited patiently for this book, even when it was long overdue. You are my heroes

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Connie Suttle

  Chapter 1

  Ny-nes

  North

  "I'm not hungry, but thank you for the offer of food," I told the woman.

  "Your name—North? Really? Like ah," she couldn't recall the word direction.

  "Yes. Like the direction," I smiled at her. She appeared nervous. They all did. I couldn't blame them; I was a relative newcomer to this part of Ny-nes. In the past two months, I'd made my way toward the largest city from the swamp country far to the south.

  The time had come, after all. Time to bring my message to the regular people of Ny-nes—that the god they feared was a false one, and not to be believed. That the Prophet lying in a glass coffin wasn't the same Prophet their leader said he was.

  I'd been born with power. I'd survived for many years in Ny-nes, until the time came to deliver the messages I bore—the truths the people needed to know.

  "You come from—south?" The woman's husband asked. "Named North?" He chuckled.

  "It's funny, I know," I agreed with him. Their lack of education made them no less human in my eyes—that could be remedied. What couldn't be remedied so easily was the pervasion of Ny-nes' national religion.

  Or the ever-present fear of it.

  "We thank for the healing," the woman stroked her daughter's hair as the child hugged her mother's legs.

  "No healer been here for a while," the man added.

  I wondered how they'd feel if they knew their daughter had a slight bit of power within her. I'd suppressed it, so she could live her life without that fear dogging her steps. Instead, I nodded to both adults, gave the girl a smile and walked out of their home, which was little more than a hovel.

  Kaakos thought his people would never know how many lies they'd been told.

  I would increase my power; I felt it. Soon, it would flow more easily through me as I allowed it to grow. Then I would inform Ny-nes' citizens of their leader's cruel duplicity. The time had come for Kaakos to account for his many sins.

  King's City

  Kerok

  "I'm surprised Drenn was willing to come this far—it's filled with cobwebs." I ducked to avoid yet another low-hanging web.

  "It should have been a deterrent, yet your brother found the way to your ancestor's resting place anyway." Adahi walked ahead of me, allowing the cobwebs to pass through his ephemeral body.

  I wasn't ephemeral and was forced to either step aside to avoid the dusty, white webs, or brush the larger ones away as we traveled deeper into the catacombs.

  Today was supposed to be a lesson day with Adahi, but instead, he'd chosen to lead me into the catacombs to see the ancestor I was named after. Sherra was spending the day at Doret's training camp, helping the younglings with their lessons.

  In two days, the trial for Merrin would be held. Garkus' trial would be held two days after the conclusion of Merrin's. Hunter and I decided to do it this way, as their crimes involved the murders of civilians and weren't strictly a military matter.

  The surviving members of Merrin's crew had already been put to death, as they were military deserters. Kage had dispatched them efficiently and as painlessly as he could.

  Not that they deserved such consideration.

  Things were changing, but the gears moved slowly to effect those changes.

  "Just down this way," Adahi took a left turn, leading me into a side-tunnel.

  "Half the lights are out," I complained. My words were useless—Adahi could see it as easily as I. With only a light on here and there along that tunnel, it became an eerie trip down a monster's gullet. The walls narrowed quickly, and became a gauntlet that could devour you whenever the darkness stretched too far.

  Adahi turned another corner, disappearing into one of the darker areas. I almost had to feel my way to follow, until I turned the corner, too.

  There, illuminated like the sun breaking through clouds, lay King Thorn I's body. For someone who'd been dead for centuries, he was amazingly intact.

  "Did you do that? Keep him whole?" I breathed as I approached the dais where his body lay.

  "I had nothing to do with it," Adahi replied, his voice a low rumble. "Thorn did that himself."

  Increasingly, I'd come to realize just how much power the first King Thorn held. A spell that could hold long after his death? That was something far beyond my previous imaginings.

  "We assume that death ends everything for us," Adahi pointed out, as if reading my mind. "In his later years, Thorn turned his thoughts to what could be maintained beyond that."

  "He has calluses on his hands," I pointed out. "Like I do." Calluses like those were a side-effect of lobbing continuous fireblasts at the enemy—any seasoned warrior had them.

  "Because he was also the ultimate Commander of the army," Adahi struggled to hide a smile. "Doret is currently writing a history of the times when all those things changed—when it became forbidden for the Crown Prince to serve the army in any capacity. You can thank Ruarke for that—and for many other changes, too."

  "Why was Ruarke such a bastard?" I asked.

  "Ah, you have managed to put your finger on it with a rhetorical question," Adahi chuckled.

  "I think you'll have to explain that to me," I said. "He had to be of royal blood to use the book."

  "Very true—an astute observation," Adahi nodded as he studied Thorn's body beside me. "You should know, however, that his father's first wife was also of royal blood—Wulf I married his second cousin."

  "Fuck," I breathed.

  "Yes, Ruarke was of royal blood; he merely wasn't the King's son. He was the Queen's son."

  "What happened to her? I know Doret married Wulf before Ruarke went crazy and murdered her sister."

  "Let's say the Queen continued her affair," Adahi shrugged. "The King eventually discovered it. To save Ruarke's position as the King's son, she claimed it was a recent thing. She and her lover were put to death—according to the laws governing the royal family. Ruarke maintained his title of Prince Commander of the army, as he was believed to be the King's eldest child."

  "You're saying that Ruarke wanted revenge for his mother's deat
h?"

  "Ruarke was always a bit twisted," Adahi said. "Remember, too, that the King put both Ruarke's parents to death, not just the one. In my mind, Ruarke was angry with his mother for carrying on with another man—he didn't know at the time that the King wasn't his father. His hatred for women grew from that moment, and when the King took Doret for his wife, it blossomed into a deadly flower."

  "At least he's dead, now," I mumbled.

  "Yes, but that is only a lesser evil. Kaakos—he is the greater threat of those two. As much power as Ruarke held, Kaakos' is far stronger."

  "Where was Thorn's Book?" I asked, focusing on the body again while struggling to put Kaakos out of my mind for a moment. "I don't see any evidence of it around his body."

  "Because it was floating above it," Adahi explained. "All Drenn had to do was pull it away."

  "And run out of here, no doubt," I said.

  "Like hounds were after him, I'm sure."

  "I should have been more curious," I admitted. "I should have been here before my brother. So many things could have been avoided."

  "Don't blame yourself too much," Adahi said. "This one was more at fault for laying a flawed spell," he jerked his head toward the body. "This isn't why I brought you here, either, as much of a pleasure as it is to revisit past mistakes."

  Adahi's sarcasm made me turn in his direction. "Why did you bring me, then?"

  "Look at his left hand—it's lying at his side away from anyone casually perusing his body—or taking away the book floating above his chest."

  That meant leaning over the body to look at the left hand, and could bring me into contact with the body itself.

  "Don't worry, he won't be angry that you touched him," Adahi smiled. "Lift his left hand, if that will make things easier."

  That's what I ended up doing—reaching over the body with my right hand to capture his left hand and lift it up so I could see it in better light.

  King Thorn wore a ring. My eyes went to it immediately, once I lifted his hand. I attempted to put out of my mind how supple the body remained—the arm and hand lifted easily and showed no signs of decay.

  "Take the ring," Adahi sounded reverent. "It belongs to you, now."

  It took both hands and my leaning over the body to do it, but I managed to work the ring off the finger. I laid the hand and arm down again, as gently as I could before drawing away to examine the crest on the ring.

  The ring was gold, with a large square of onyx forming the base of the crest. Atop that, in delicately carved detail, was a tangle of golden thorns surrounding a rose made of tiny rubies.

  "Put it on," Adahi said softly beside me.

  "What if it doesn't fit?"

  "Put it on," he repeated.

  Like the previous owner, I slipped it onto the third finger of my left hand. It glowed for a moment, before adjusting itself to fit my finger.

  "Step back," Adahi grasped my elbow to pull me away from the body.

  He was wise to do so—the body decayed and transformed before our eyes, turning flesh to dust and leaving only rotted clothing and a skeleton behind. I think I held my breath during the entire process.

  South Camp

  Sherra

  "Those two are troublemakers," Pottles said as we watched the group play with shield balls on the training field.

  I knew the ones she meant without having them pointed out.

  On a nearby field, Caral, Misten, Wend and a few others were training a group of girls to make their first shield balls. Eventually, those trainees would be playing the games, too, to increase their agility and the strength of their shields.

  In the game Pottles and I supervised, some of the shield balls—the strongest ones—were destroying the weaker ones thrown against them.

  Each student was allowed three shield balls of uniform size. Once their balls were destroyed, they were out of the game. It was incentive to make better, stronger shields.

  Ferni and Jeen were the troublemakers; Pottles frowned at them more often than not. Those two would have been chosen as favorites by the Bulldog, had she still been alive.

  They saw their fellow students as lesser beings, and I was considering how to deal with that—as was Pottles.

  "This is what happens when their parents allow them to run wild, I suppose," Pottles breathed a troubled sigh. "No discipline, and no concern for others."

  They were fourteen and fifteen; I was grateful the boys were being trained at West Camp or there'd be trouble for sure, unless I was badly mistaken.

  "I think it may be time to tell them what the discipline used to be for flaunting the rules," Pottles grumbled, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and frowning.

  "What was that?"

  "Putting a damper on their power. The more serious the infraction, the more the power is dampened. If they don't learn from their mistakes, they could end up having their power burned out of them when they reach adulthood."

  "That's how the laws used to be?"

  "Yes. I'd say those laws could use some revisions, but there's a place—and a reason—for them now."

  "I'll ask Kerok if there's a way to do that."

  "Of course there's a way to do it—he's the Supreme Commander of the Army, and the King. He can put those laws into effect. I'd ask Hunter to write the final draft, first."

  "Cole is working out as my advisor—with Caral, obviously. I'll ask Cole to help shape the law with input from Caral and me, then give it to Hunter and have him write it out. Kerok can decide whether he wants to sign it or not."

  "Let Thorn know you'll be putting something together," Pottles advised. "It's never a good idea to spring something like this on anyone, especially the King."

  Nobody called Kerok by his middle name except me. They either referred to him as the King, King Thorn or just Thorn, depending on their station and how well they knew him.

  Usually he smiled when he heard me call him Kerok. Hunter told me not long ago that Kerok was the name he'd been called as a child, until he reached adulthood and took over the army.

  The only time he went by Kerok after that was when he didn't wish to be recognized.

  Like at North Camp, when he was searching for a new escort. I breathed a sigh at that thought. Until the end of our training, my fellow trainees and I had no idea the Prince Commander was in our midst, acting as a lesser officer in the Prince Commander's army.

  Back then, I had no idea who he was, or how much I'd come to love him.

  "Adahi told me two days ago to talk to you about the Bulldog," Pottles said, changing subjects and surprising me with the new topic.

  "What about her?"

  I understood that he, as the Phantom, had brought about the Bulldog's death. He'd ensured it by having her bitten by a poisonous snake. That's all I knew.

  "Kyri, Adahi and I have known for a while that Ruarke and Kaakos have spies in Az-ca," Pottles began.

  I shifted uncomfortably while absently keeping my eyes on the trainee game before us. I'd suspected there were spies, but hadn't found any—other than Merrin. That alliance had been made after Merrin's criminal acts. He'd committed high treason by allying himself with Ruarke to destroy Az-ca.

  "Willing spies?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

  "Most of them," Pottles nodded. "They prefer those who used to have power, and are angry or carry a grudge for some reason. Anyone who is disenchanted with Az-ca's leadership becomes a prime target. Those who are invisible are preferred, because they are easy to overlook and easily swayed by gold and promises. Ruarke never sought to restore their power, because it would make his spies simpler to find. It was far better to tap them for information, leaving them disgruntled by their limited capabilities. They were more pliable that way."

  "What does that have to do with the Bulldog?" I asked.

  "She was approached after she was dismissed as an instructor. Adahi was already keeping an eye on her—because I asked him to keep watch over you during your training."

  I could tell she didn
't like admitting to having me watched. "Adahi would never interfere with the Bulldog's favoritism or her lack of skill as an instructor—those were problems for the leadership of Az-ca to deal with. It was only when Thorn punished the Bulldog, sending her to the potato farms in the southern domes that he began to worry. She'd be close enough to the King to bring mischief, or act as a spy on occasion."

  "What about the one who approached her?" I asked, still watching the trainees. They were down to four girls, now, all of them talented.

  "He's dead, too; Adahi killed him first, then took the Bulldog from her sleeping quarters. I believe he questioned her at length before she died."

  "I didn't hear about another death," I began.

  "Because that one was invisible. An old servant, who washed out of warrior training long ago. He attached himself to one of the Council members, only taking a pittance for his pay, as he was rewarded by Ruarke or whomever held his reins. He approached the Bulldog when he learned of her punishment. We had no idea someone so close to the Council had been converted to Ruarke's cause. Adahi ensured that his death appeared natural—that the servant had died in his sleep."

  "So Adahi doesn't know who the spies are—he must hunt for them, like anyone else?"

  "Adahi isn't anyone else," Pottles snorted. "But yes, he must hunt for them. It's a self-appointed task, you understand."

  "Does the enemy know he's doing this?"

  "Kaakos knows now, I believe. That in itself is a blow to his ego. He believes he destroyed Adahi long ago. To find that he's still active? That will burn Kaakos' soul—what small, twisted remnant of it remains within him."