Taylon

  Taylon

  by Scott J. Kramer

  A Territories Novel

  Taylon

  By Scott J. Kramer

  Copyright 2016 by Scott J. Kramer

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

  Prizm Books, a division of Torquere Press Publishers

  P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770

  Taylon by Scott J. Kramer Copyright 2016

  Editor, Deelylah Mullin

  Cover by Kris Norris

  Published with permission

  www.prizmbooks.com

  ISBN: 978-1-944449-94-0

  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press, LLC, P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770

  First Prizm Books Printing: August 2016

  DEDICATION

  To my brother Kevin: a warrior at heart, even if he is just an engineer.

  To Phillip, Charlee, Brandon, and Jackson: the new boys in the family. I’m just glad I had girls to balance everything out.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my editor Deelylah Mullin. Without her, I would be a poor word peddler trying to push passive off as a good story.

  To my beta readers:

  Stephanie Ahrnsen—A no nonsense kind of gal. That chicken has to get to the other slide.

  Lizzie Schreyer—If only I could clone her and have many students like her…I would be all gray instead of half.

  Phillip Ricke—A wordslinger himself, critical, yet does it with a smile.

  Erin Kerr – A terrific student that will overcome, and make the world proud.

  Carolyn Kesterman, Joanna Sonderman, Cole Berger—Thank you, all.

  To all my students: The words I scribe, I tiredly sling for you. Take an adventure, read a book, and escape the world. Do your homework. Especially…oh you know who you are.

  TAYLON

  War has been declared and demon possessed Queen Euphoria has struck the first blow against the Territories. Little does she know, Da’Lynn a dark elf possessed by an evil herself has command of the elf army and is moving in to defend the land.

  Kara, realizing the trouble brewing, seeks out her non-human friends, hoping to sort out the trouble ahead. But will Hambone, Snow, Ra’na, and the wizard Ynob be enough to stop the ensuing apocalypse?

  Prologue

  Guilaud sat on his throne, weary of the whole ordeal. Sealed within this chamber, his kingdom, his worst fears were coming true. He was a failure.

  His precious wife Rose, lost forever now. Of course he had defeated the evil—the mind numbing wraith. Hurrah for saving the world. But Guilaud of Deharem could not save the only person he cared about.

  A clawed goblet rested next to his chair. With a sweep of anger, a muttered word, it soared across the room and disintegrated upon impact. Nearby, a large mirror pulsed with a blue light before returning to darkness.

  Why? It was a question that tormented his mind. All his planning and research, even his disaster with the demon box, led him to this. Rose was supposed to live again, be by his side. Not a decaying corpse within a cage.

  Slowly, Guilaud raised his head, surveying the room. All of this was done to contain and protect his people, but they were probably wondering where he had gone. Faldoa no more, this was his crypt to rule.

  Normally, he would scribe his analysis, the outcome, into his journal as he had done countless times before. Writing eased his mind, and coaxed along the logical process. But he had left that behind in his rush to complete the ultimate spell.

  How foolish had he been? Hindsight made wise men out of mad men everywhere. Maybe if he hadn’t rushed. Maybe if he had taken one more day to consult with the elves, or maybe the council of mages.

  But his love for Rose blinded him, hungered to avenge and set things right.

  Guilaud stood, and stepped down from the dais. Slowly, he approached the glass cabinet where he kept his unique possessions.

  From inside he withdrew a ring, a marker upon his journey here. So much had he learned from that moment, as from the box. But a wizard could not turn back time.

  His finger slid into the ring comfortably. The bluish gem caught the torchlight, illuminating his knuckles. Guilaud closed his eyes, one hand over the other. A prayerful gesture, one that was utterly foreign to him.

  Carefully he raised his head and opened his eyes. With each step he turned. At first his steps were solemn, but then they faltered, and quickened, until a panic set in.

  “Rose?” Guilaud called out, as he frantically searched the room for her.

  It had worked before. He had spoken to the dead man. So where was Rose?

  “Rose!” His voice raised slightly, not the call of a royal king, but of a child seeking one he loves when they are absent.

  Still nothing appeared to him in the dimly lit chamber.

  “Rose…” His last desperate plea slipped out, weak and fading.

  Only a soft sinister laugh came forth, but it too was weak.

  Guilaud turned to the dark mirror, fire ablaze in his eyes for just a second until sadness consumed them again.

  For what seemed to be the fifth time today, Guilaud of Deharem, mighty wizard, king of Faldoa, fell to his knees, covered his face, and wept like a child.

  Chapter One

  Taylon stared down at the table, his eyes losing focus, his mind a complete blank. The maps began to merge into one big fuzzy nothing. Something inside him groaned. He was not up for this. Sleep. That’s what he needed.

  During the six weeks since the demon queen announced the campaign against the Territories, the captain had not slept. His head throbbed; his heart ached. Each day new torment becokened Captivity did not suit him. Yet, the only reason he cooperated with Euphoria was Rose.

  Taking a moment, Taylon stood up from the table and walked around the small room. Locked in this war chamber, he was sheltered from whatever was going on outside these walls. But he found solace in his cell, for he didn’t want to deal with the jubilation of Faldoa’s citizens.

  The door swung open suddenly, causing the captain to jump. He expected it to be one of his soldiers, but instead the queen stood there. She closed it behind her.

  “Taking a break?” Her words were like ice, cold and jabbing.

  Euphoria decked herself out in a lovely black and red dress. The way she explained her new wardrobe to her subjects was that she was the fire that would bring new life to Faldoa and beyond. The smiths forged her flame motif into the shields and swords. Plus, the first attack after blowing a hole in the wall was to light the forest on fire so the good people, the humans, could see the smoke and rejoice.

  “Do we have to do this now?” Taylon sounded exhausted and distraught. Euphoria only smiled and walked to the table, looking at all the scattered documents and writings.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should know by now not to annoy me.” Her long fingernails raked the table.

  Taylon ignored her and leaned against the wall. It was all child’s play. She was toying with him. He massaged his brow. Light reflected off something and caught his attention.

  A sword? But it wasn’t there before. A quick glance toward the queen confirmed she was busy, with her back turned, looking at the maps.

  “Have we learned any more from the scouts?” She threw her comment at him over her shoulder.

  “Um, no. They haven’t returned.” Taylon edged along the wall and covered the weapon with his bod
y. His fingers slipped around the cold hilt.

  “Stupid humans…” Euphoria muttered, but did not turn around.

  Could it be this simple? His palm began to sweat as his fingers tightened on the weapon. Slowly, he stepped closer to the table.

  “I shall have a word with them when they return.” Euphoria flipped another chart to the side, but didn’t move toward him.

  One shot at this. It would end it all. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Another step. His heartbeat quickened. Why had he put up with this torture, this turmoil for so long?

  Taylon raised the sword to his waist, angling the blade up. A thrust through the chest would do it, end the life of Euphoria the demon. She had not faced him yet, and hopefully would not. One more step.

  “My queen.”

  As she turned toward him, he felt her eyes upon him. But his resolve was strong. Taylon thrust the sword upward, feeling the blade slice into her flesh. A small whimper escaped her. Euphoria fell forward, clutching at her chest.

  It worked!

  Taylon stood there stunned, holding the dying queen in his hands. He stepped back and let her drop. Blood pounded in his head as his whole body rushed with adrenaline.

  “Yes…Yes….”

  He looked down at Euphoria but something was wrong. The clothes began to change. No longer regal garb, but a servant’s gray smock.

  Laughter echoed in as the door slid open. Shock, panic, terror all rolled into one as he saw Euphoria stroll through the opening. Quickly he looked to the floor only to discover a servant girl hunched on the ground, a sword jutting out of her back like a fin.

  “No…No!” Taylon screamed at the ground and then at the queen. His anger had built to a fury and he ran at the real queen. Every fiber of his being raised the bloody sword, ready to strike the creature dead. Her smile hinted that she knew something he did not. Taylon didn’t care as began his attack.

  Bam! Some invisible wall knocked him backward with as much force as he delivered. The shock jolted his ire loose, bringing him back to reality.

  “Now now, temper my brave little warrior.” She laughed again, watching him struggle helplessly against the barrier. Eventually Taylon slumped to the ground, weeping.

  Euphoria bypassed him and went to the dead servant girl. She stooped. Horrid sounds of slurping and bones cracking bounced around the chamber as Euphoria fed. Taylon closed his eyes and shuddered.

  After a few minutes, the queen stood, wiped some remaining blood off her cheek, and turned to Taylon. All that was left of the decoy was some torn clothing and the sword.

  “I had to test you. I work you so hard, and thought sooner or later you would try to kill me. The stress and torment is no equal to that of saving Rose. Poor Rose.”

  Grief gripped him as he realized what she said was true. He was ready to throw it all away to kill Euphoria. Rose would have been lost permanently if it had been the queen whom he actually skewered.

  “But now that you have that little bit of nonsense out of you, you can finish up on the plans. We move out tomorrow,” Euphoria said as she walked toward the door.

  It took Taylon a moment, but he got to his feet. “But…we hardly have enough explosive for the wall.”

  Euphoria turned back to him, looking deep in thought. “Yes, that could be a problem for you. We still leave tomorrow.” As she left, her laughter rang through the hall.

  ***

  “Someone comes!” A cry came out from the tower. This was not an unusual message, but one not heard every day. The watchman knew the members of the army, and wouldn’t announce the approach if a rebel was returning. This call meant someone advanced whom he did not recognize.

  Fret glanced up, knowing he wouldn’t see anything from where he was—just the crudely shaped fence walls. Today he chopped wood for the fire, in a place farthest away from the gate.

  A few of the elves scrambled for a weapon, while others ignored the call and went about their business. Fret was curious, but knew as a slave it was not his place to do anything. His intrusion would result in a quick slap or kick and his removal He sighed and went back to chopping wood.

  But after a few more whacks, Fret heard murmuring and excitement from the gates. Two elfin riders trotted in, escorted by Kerlick’s thugs.

  “Council? Here….”

  “But look….”

  “How dare they.”

  The reactions from the outlaws varied. Some donned a fearful gaze, some were angry, and some looked comically welcoming. One of the smaller bandits ran to get Kerlick.

  The newcomers dismounted. Both were elves, but had much darker skin than many of the clan here. If he remembered, this race of elf called themselves Opi Chi.

  Fret also noticed they were both women.

  Kerlick made his way from his barracks quickly. He stopped a few feet from the women, a shot of recognition coming over his face.

  “Katrena….”

  But his shock was more intense and made him jump back a few feet as he recognized his second guest. “Da’Lynn!”

  Immediately, he drew his dagger from his belt. A few of the other rebels did so as well.

  “Why did you let them pass?” Kerlick shouted to his brethren.

  “Peace to you,” the one he called Da’Lynn said.

  “Damn with your peace! Did you bring the whole council here? Guards, why are you standing there!”

  One large man did find the courage to charge at Da’Lynn. The elf called Katrena made a move to block the attack, but the other held her back. The rebel came in with a ridiculous maneuver—a long staff he swiped downward at Da’Lynn. The dark one caught the stick, snapped it in two, and drove the broken half through her attacker’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound, raining the ground. Everyone else in the crowd watched. Kerlick stood mute.

  Da’Lynn then stepped toward the dying brute and bent down. Her riding vestment covered the dead. One arm of the deceased lay outside the cloak, pointing as if in jest to the sky. Kerlick’s eyes widened at the sound, and he watched in horror as his fallen comrade’s arm shriveled and then disappeared completely. When Da’Lynn stood, only the broken staff lay amongst a pile of clothes.

  Fret gasped. A flicker of a memory threatened to surface. That seemed so long ago. The axe fell from his hand. His insides screamed for him to run, hide, but his legs did not move.

  “Katrena… What have you brought into my camp?” Kerlick’s eyes flicked from the pile that once was an elf, to the woman responsible for the death.

  Da’Lynn looked over the crowd of rebels, walking casually, cautiously. She caught sight of Fret. All at once, he remembered.

  Lyra. The whole reason he was here. But what should he do? What could he do?

  “I see you have changed your ways. A human in camp. How very quaint.” Da’Lynn nodded.

  Ignoring Da’Lynn, Kerlick turned toward Katrena. After a moment of hesitation he spoke. “What… Why? I don’t even know what to say.” His voice held anger, yet Fret thought he heard fear.

  The woman glared at Kerlick, unfazed by everything going on around her. “I bring you your ticket, your ultimate weapon against the council. You would think you would have more to say to your mate than why.” She turned away from him, leading her horse to a nearby trough. Kerlick watched her go. Da’Lynn started to move in the opposite direction.

  “You. Do not move.”

  Da’Lynn stopped and slowly turned to address Kerlick’s command.

  “You do not order me.” She raised an accusing finger. Her cloak shifted and Fret saw something around her neck.

  The mirror shard! Terror erupted within him. He stumbled backward, tripping over the wood. Finally, his feet listened. Run!

  “Get me the boy,” Da’Lynn said. And soon footfalls followed him.

  Panic rushed through him, leaving disorientation in its wake. Strong arms plucked him up. Fret knew it was useless to resist.

  “How dare you order my men. You have no power here.” Kerlick’s strong words quivere
d at the end.

  The rebel slammed Fret to the ground next to Da’Lynn. She glanced down at him, and smirked before turning back to Kerlick. Fret tried to stand, but a forceful hand encouraged him to stay down.

  “I come here to offer you a chance at redemption.” Da’Lynn took calculated steps toward Kerlick. “I offer a chance for you to regain your—let’s use your word—power.”

  She stopped short of Kerlick, looking him up and down.

  “Why do you scorn me so much, Kerlick?”

  “Because he was forced to marry me.” Katrena entered into the conversation. Surprise crossed the leader’s face. Fret noticed for the first time this elf was missing her right hand.

  “No.” Courage crept back into his voice as he spoke, “The marriage was good, it was the council condemning me for my actions. Your vote…” He managed to take a step forward and point at Da’Lynn. “So I want nothing from you, short of you leaving my camp.”

  “I can promise to take down the council in one day. I would need a little help from you, of course.” Da’Lynn walked slowly over to the other dark elf and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “And why should I trust you? Just because you are with your daughter? Katrena has not been my mate for some time now. There is no connection there.”

  “Wow. Thanks.” Katrena folded her arms, sullen. Kerlick looked as if he was formulating a retort, but held his ground and focused on Da’Lynn.

  She eyed him, not one emotion showing on her face. “Bring the boy forward.”

  Startled by the command, Kerlick looked back and saw Fret led to the front. “What does this human slave have to do with any of this?”