The King’s Renegade: A Vatan Chronicle

Active works in Progress include:
Pierz’s Journal - A Companion Story to The King’s Renegade
Honor - Prequel to The King’s Renegade
Valor - Book Three of The King’s Renegade
Reign - Book Four of The King’s Renegade

Release Dates TBD

Asunder, Book One of The King’s Renegade

Chapter One, The Ambush

Squirrel beamed as if he’d just found the lost treasure of Gezmek. Like jewels piled upon the passing merchant’s cart, exotic Ammosian Silks shimmered. Some changed from a radiant gold to a deep lavender. Others reflected leaves or the cloudy sky above, blending in with the world around. With each piece as alluring as the next, the boy was spellbound.

Alden appreciated Squirrel’s fascination—the fabrics were beautiful. But besides the brilliant luster, these silks were desired for their armor-like durability, and the young thief could benefit from such luxuries. After years of action and neglect, Squirrel’s current cloak bore holes so large that it did little to conceal. One which could deflect a blade to counter his carelessness would be better for his longevity. 

After this heist, I’m gonna buy him a silk cloak. Better him alive than me having a full belly.

An eager grin spread mischievously across Squirrel’s freckled face as if he’d heard Alden’s inner thoughts. But as the merchants neared, he raised his bow.

Damnit… Alden grabbed the boy by the scruff.

Squirrel flinched. With crescent-shaped eyes pleading innocence, he glanced up, shifting as if he had only been stretching his legs. Alden shook his head, knowing all too well the thief’s inner desires. With a light shove, he released the boy. Squirrel scurried behind a nearby boulder, sulking in its shade.

Alden surveyed his better-hidden companions on the hill. Higher perched between two shrubs were Trod and Paige. Trod sat tense and alert, weaving the end of a rope between his dark fingers now and again. A buzzing bee hovering around his bald head didn’t break the man’s concentration from the road, ready for the ambush to begin at a moment’s notice. Paige, however, watched the bee with interest. When the bug flew away, the pale, orange-haired woman shifted to watch colorful leaves blow off trees, the passing of clouds, and even the ground. Rumors swore that they were lovers, yet Alden never saw true signs of courtship. He suspected similar gossip was said about himself and his own partner. If only.

Alden turned to look at the woman by his side. In the setting sun, her short brown hair glowed like a bush caught aflame as it danced wildly in the wind. The lower half was longer and woven into a raggedy braid, resting on her chest. Alden followed the line down to explore her body’s fit contour. Strong arms held her as she leaned against the hill. His gaze paused when her tunic fluttered in the settling breeze, showing off a set of toned, leather-covered legs. The glimmer of a hidden dagger winked at him. Then a gust of wind whipped the fabric in a flurry, sending Alden’s eyes back to her face. She studied the environment around her with a smile. Kira.

Kira leaned forward as a pair of riders trotted down the trail. Although they looked to be capable protectors, they led no carriage. Like the silk cart, they weren’t the intended victims. After they passed and the trail once again clear, the thief eased back down into the grass, letting her legs kick up then sway. She huffed and threw Alden a look of impatience.

Alden shrugged.

Two dimples formed on each side of Kira’s full lips as she stared at him playfully. Alden wanted to glance away, disallowing his eyes and heart the pleasure of viewing her, but he couldn’t help but smile back. He knew that look. It was the same roguish one she'd given him the day they met, the day fate had allowed him to enter this life.

Movement from around the bend drew their attention to a troop of guards leading a carriage pulled by two white horses. Black capes danced proudly with the troop's synchronized steps. Despite their unmarked attire, the shining plate armor outed them as Hiorean and the hand-carved details on the carriage with finely painted trim outlined its curves made it clear they escorted nobility. Their target.

“Reynold,” said Trod in a hushed tone. His grip tightened on the rope.

Reyn, their Shadow Commander, emerged from his hidden position among the brush. Peering under his black woolen cowl he studied the road below like a hawk stalking prey. Secured around the man’s chest, arms, and legs was a new and complete set of thick boiled leather armor. Alden picked at his fraying bracer, wishing he could afford such luxuries. As if sensing the scrutiny, the commander turned to exchange a glance. A flare of hatred sparked between them and Alden rolled his head back to the approaching carriage, heart racing.

Kira playfully nudged Alden’s side. “You ready?”

* * *

“You must keep your dress pristine, Mayli Drake!” scolded a dry and cracking voice.

Mayli rolled her eyes. “Lidia, our silk is anything but delicate.” She bit into a chocolate cayenne cookie. The snap of the crisp treat sent a layer of crumbs into her lap, dusting the shimmering orange gown with spice.

Lidia brushed Mayli clean. “But your presentation is, and today is an important time to show it! Now straighten up. Princes have little patience for such indecorous mannerisms, as should you!” Lidia gave an encouraging slap on her thigh.

Mayli obeyed with an irritated moan, setting the cookies aside.

In the absence of conversation, Mayli listened to the slop of mud under the carriage’s wheels, the rhythmic marching of boots crunching dried leaves, the clang of scabbards clashing against armor, and the swoosh of capes beating in the wind. To ensure proper provisions had been made before her arrival, her father, King Bakhari, sent troops. They worked with the local Hiorean sentries to lock up scoundrels, shooed away beggars, and relocated the homeless out of the main streets. A few spent two days scouting ahead for possible threats. They found nothing, but the king still requested extra men to escort her through northern Vatan. If only they’d known to be as careful with Mother.

A guard with a purple scarf to mimic Hiorean troops tucked around his neck sat quietly across from her. His shoulders drooped while his hand rested away from the hilt of his sword. Dark skin melded with the shadow under the protective cover of his helm. Beyond it, Mayli saw his relaxed brow and soft eyes as he watched out the window, unconcerned.

His name was Kelvan, or possibly Kent. She couldn’t quite remember. Their brief introduction was like meeting a horse or being presented a ship—just a tool used to serve a purpose, not a friend to provide good company. Like many in the force, he was handsome. All her guards were strong, fit men with an unquestionable dedication to her and her family.  Mayli knew many well and cherished their company. This guard, however, she did not know—yet. 

“Anything interesting out there?” Mayli asked.

The guard blinked, unsure if he was being addressed. Mayli watched with amusement as he looked to Lidia as if the old woman cared to see the world around her. She was too focused on threading through the final laces of a white and decorative corset. Mayli eyed the item, remembering the torturous device would soon be wrapped around her.

Mayli smiled impishly at the guard. “You’ll have to help with that later. Lidia’s fingers are growing weak, but I’m sure your strong hands can tighten it nicely around me.” Mayli leaned across with an inviting gaze.

Lidia ended her fuss with the lace and stared in horror. “Mayli Drake!”

“What?” Mayli cried innocently. “I can’t put it on myself, and you complain about your crooked old fingers all the time! Why shouldn’t the man help my lady-in-waiting so nobly?”

Sour wrinkles grew around the woman’s tight-pursed lips. The glare enhanced the old woman’s age, making her appear ancient.

Mayli batted her eyes to her guard, expecting an alluring smirk or bite of interest to her invitation. However, he lacked either, and shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze back out the window. Mayli sighed, leaning against the wall to do the same. Kendel, she finally decided, bored her.

She wished her previous escort, Charli Damgard, was accompanying her. Mayli was sure that, by now, they would have been deep in conversation about the differences across Vatan’s landscape. Charli would go on to explain that, unlike the dry climate of Ammos, the leaves in the north changed in color and then fell off because the trees were preparing for the colder months. Although she knew already, she would listen. There was always something Charli could enlighten her about as he was well-traveled, served in the war, and had explored the Desert of Gezmek.

When the topic of local knowledge became exhausting, they would philosophize over something silly, like what made the best archer: a cat or a rat. Mayli guessed a cat, but she knew he would—for the sake of challenging her—claim the rat as the victor for reasons she’d fail to consider. Charli made a point to expand her knowledge and discuss anything to keep her mind from wandering down a dark path; a charming trait he developed to help her forget the horrors from three years past.

An earthy crack boomed, jarring Mayli from thought. Her guard jerked to the ready—one hand tight around the hilt of his sword and the other on the door’s handle.

Lidia, however, took a calm breath and put her hands in her lap. “Just a thunderclap, My Lady. Storms are frequent here this time of year.”

Mayli looked out the window to the clear sky above. A burst of birds fluttered across in fright. Horses whinnied. The carriage shook. At first only slightly, but then violently as the rolling thunder grew. Mayli turned her head to the other window where several boulders came charging down the hill. She threw herself to Lidia and together, they braced for impact.

* * *

Alden leapt onto the overturned carriage. It creaked and teetered as he steadied himself into a crouch. Lavishly embroidered curtains hung in the windows behind a decorative yet protective screen. He pulled at the door. “Locked.”

Kira hopped alongside him, shooing him away with a handful of tools. Alden shifted, knife out and eyes scanning for movement while she picked the lock. The landslide went exactly as Paige and Trod planned, leaving many guards lost under rocks and logs. Those who survived faced a worse fate of battling Shadowen Thieves.

Using a boulder as cover, Squirrel stayed on the hill while exchanging a flight of arrows with an archer below. One struck the boy’s cloak, pinning it to the hill and adding yet another hole. Stuck, Alden feared the contest between bows would end with his friend on the losing side, but before the enemy could loose a killing strike, Reyn slipped into action from the shadows. He tumbled past a flurry of blades to introduce his long rapier into the back of the skilled archer. A loud cry echoed off the hills.

“And open.” With a flick of Kira’s wrist, the carriage’s door swung wide. 

Alden’s nostrils flared as the alluring smell of spiced perfume wafted from the carriage. Something familiar. Together they cautiously peered inside. Pillows, blankets, and drapery hung over everything like a nomad’s den. Cookies littered everywhere.

A young noblewoman sat rubbing her head. She had tanned olive skin, mostly hidden behind a white, feathered jacket and shimmering, orange dress. Wrapped loosely around her wavy black hair was a silk scarf to match the gown. With her slim features and thick makeup, Alden guessed she was at the tail end of her teen years, just a few younger than him.

Passed out on the floor lay an older woman, gray beyond years. Beside her, a guard checked for a pulse. He threw his head up, noticing them. Standing, he attempted to release his sword from his scabbard. However, from within the confines of the small overturned carriage, he knocked his elbow against the side, failing to draw his blade completely.

“Lemme help ya with that!” Kira offered with genuine earnest, hopping in. Her boot met the guard’s chest and sent him against the arched roof with a grunt. She gripped the hilt and twisted it free from his scabbard. She admired it for a moment. “Nice piece.”

“Please!” The guard reached.

Seeing him work to stealthily draw a hidden knife, Kira flicked the man’s stolen blade across his neck.

Alden winced as the young woman screamed, watching the murder.  However, her guard only coughed from the blow, then blinked. No blood escaped. 

“Damn Ammosian Silk,” Kira growled. Before the guard could fight back, she knocked him out with a punch.

Alden hopped down with a thud, startling his target from staring at her unconscious guard. She backed away as if able to flee the enclosed space, hands pressed firmly on the wall. Alden shook his head. “Sorry, there’s no escaping this. But we aren’t gonna hurt ya.” He crept forward.

She swiped, forcing Alden to dodge claws to his face. Seizing the opportunity, the woman hopped to catch the ledge of the carriage. Before she could pull herself up, Alden snatched her jacket and yanked. Feathers exploded into the air as she fell onto him. 

Alden stared in disbelief at the woman’s now exposed shoulder. A tattoo; a falcon with wings spread in the shape of a pulled composite bow with four-pointed stars flanking its sides and head. Around it illustrated a shield and Alden knew it wasn’t just a noble coat of arms of Ammos…

She was royalty.

Alden stopped breathing. Heart pounding in his ears. Not even the continuous screams from outside the carriage could compete with the warning bells inside his head. The orange scarf. The spiced aroma. The curl of hair. Timidly, Alden broke his gaze from the brand and locked with Mayli Drake, the Princess of Ammos. They were a beautiful hazel but were tainted by the fear of him. He paled. “May?”

“Let me go!” the princess demanded, struggling in his arms.

“Nice find!” Kira said.

Alden glanced at his partner, expecting her knowing stare, but she was busy stealing a plump coin purse from the old woman. “Ki, focus,” he said, shrugging the princess’s jacket up to hide her tattoo. 

Kira pocketed a few cookies before hobbling over. “Yeah, yeah…”

Mayli squirmed, throwing a kick. Kira grabbed the foot before it met her face. She held it bound with her other leg while Alden secured the princess’s arms with rope.

“You will die for this!” Mayli yelled. “You bast—”

Alden pulled Mayli’s scarf over her face, gagging and blinding her. He didn’t need to hear her curses, and his troop didn’t need to recognize her.

A whistle blew.

“Time to go.” Kira clamped Alden’s shoulder before climbing out the open door.

Alden gently hoisted Mayli up, dodging her kicks as Kira pulled.

Exiting, the lovely spice from within the carriage was replaced by a thick smell of dirt and blood. His gut turned, seeing the litter of fallen guards. Not Hiorean, but Ammosian. Many were dead or nearing death and Reyn finished off those pleading for their lives. Trod worked at freeing the tethered horses from the carriage, calming them while Paige watched the path. Squirrel, now freed from his post on the hill, floated around each body, blissfully gathering loot. He found a small sack and emptied its contents into his hand. He squealed with joy.

“Coin?” Kira hopped to the ground.

Squirrel raised his hand in victory. “Better! Chocolate-covered coffee beans!” He popped a handful into his mouth and chewed proudly. 

Kira scoffed. “More energy is the last thing you need. Spit it out,” she said, snapping her fingers.

The boy slowed his munching, looked away, then gulped forcefully.

“Great. Now he’ll be up all night.” Kira threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes to Alden as he lowered to the road with Mayli. Her brow furrowed. “Hey… Do you need help?”

Alden pulled his hood tight around his face before Kira could further read his discomfort as the princess tugged and twisted to be set free. Alden tightened his grip, securing Mayli to his side protectively. “No. I have her.”

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