Morgan Rice is the #1 bestselling and USA Today bestselling author of the epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING, comprising seventeen books; of the #1 bestselling series THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, comprising twelve books; of the #1 bestselling series THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic thriller comprising three books; of the epic fantasy series KINGS AND SORCERERS, comprising six books; of the epic fantasy series OF CROWNS AND GLORY, comprising 8 books; of the new epic fantasy series A THRONE FOR SISTERS, comprising seven books (and counting); and of the new science fiction series THE INVASION CHRONICLES. Morgan’s books are available in audio and print editions, and translations are available in over 25 languages.
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“If you thought that there was no reason left for living after the end of THE SORCERER’S RING series, you were wrong. In RISE OF THE DRAGONS Morgan Rice has come up with what promises to be another brilliant series, immersing us in a fantasy of trolls and dragons, of valor, honor, courage, magic and faith in your destiny. Morgan has managed again to produce a strong set of characters that make us cheer for them on every page.…Recommended for the permanent library of all readers that love a well-written fantasy.”
--Books and Movie ReviewsRoberto Mattos
“An action packed fantasy sure to please fans of Morgan Rice’s previous novels, along with fans of works such as THE INHERITANCE CYCLE by Christopher Paolini…. Fans of Young Adult Fiction will devour this latest work by Rice and beg for more.”
--The Wanderer, A Literary Journal (regarding Rise of the Dragons)
“A spirited fantasy that weaves elements of mystery and intrigue into its story line. A Quest of Heroes is all about the making of courage and about realizing a life purpose that leads to growth, maturity, and excellence….For those seeking meaty fantasy adventures, the protagonists, devices, and action provide a vigorous set of encounters that focus well on Thor's evolution from a dreamy child to a young adult facing impossible odds for survival….Only the beginning of what promises to be an epic young adult series.”
--Midwest Book Review (D. Donovan, eBook Reviewer)
“THE SORCERER’S RING has all the ingredients for an instant success: plots, counterplots, mystery, valiant knights, and blossoming relationships replete with broken hearts, deception and betrayal. It will keep you entertained for hours, and will satisfy all ages. Recommended for the permanent library of all fantasy readers.”
--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos
“In this action-packed first book in the epic fantasy Sorcerer's Ring series (which is currently 14 books strong), Rice introduces readers to 14-year-old Thorgrin "Thor" McLeod, whose dream is to join the Silver Legion, the elite knights who serve the king…. Rice's writing is solid and the premise intriguing.”
--Publishers Weekly
TRANSMISSION (Book #1)
ARRIVAL (Book #2)
ONLY THE WORTHY (Book #1)
A THRONE FOR SISTERS (Book #1)
A COURT FOR THIEVES (Book #2)
A SONG FOR ORPHANS (Book #3)
A DIRGE FOR PRINCES (Book #4)
A JEWEL FOR ROYALS (Book #5)
A KISS FOR QUEENS (Book #6)
A CROWN FOR ASSASSINS (Book #7)
SLAVE, WARRIOR, QUEEN (Book #1)
ROGUE, PRISONER, PRINCESS (Book #2)
KNIGHT, HEIR, PRINCE (Book #3)
REBEL, PAWN, KING (Book #4)
SOLDIER, BROTHER, SORCERER (Book #5)
HERO, TRAITOR, DAUGHTER (Book #6)
RULER, RIVAL, EXILE (Book #7)
VICTOR, VANQUISHED, SON (Book #8)
RISE OF THE DRAGONS (Book #1)
RISE OF THE VALIANT (Book #2)
THE WEIGHT OF HONOR (Book #3)
A FORGE OF VALOR (Book #4)
A REALM OF SHADOWS (Book #5)
NIGHT OF THE BOLD (Book #6)
A QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1)
A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)
A FATE OF DRAGONS (Book #3)
A CRY OF HONOR (Book #4)
A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)
A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)
A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)
A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)
A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)
A SEA OF SHIELDS (Book #10)
A REIGN OF STEEL (Book #11)
A LAND OF FIRE (Book #12)
A RULE OF QUEENS (Book #13)
AN OATH OF BROTHERS (Book #14)
A DREAM OF MORTALS (Book #15)
A JOUST OF KNIGHTS (Book #16)
THE GIFT OF BATTLE (Book #17)
ARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)
ARENA TWO (Book #2)
ARENA THREE (Book #3)
BEFORE DAWN (Book #1)
TURNED (Book #1)
LOVED (Book #2)
BETRAYED (Book #3)
DESTINED (Book #4)
DESIRED (Book #5)
BETROTHED (Book #6)
VOWED (Book #7)
FOUND (Book #8)
RESURRECTED (Book #9)
CRAVED (Book #10)
FATED (Book #11)
OBSESSED (Book #12)
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Copyright © 2018 by Morgan Rice. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Sebastian crept through Ashton, cautious as a hunted deer, trying to work out his next move. He was free, but the truth was that he didn’t trust it. Even now, it felt like some trick. The circumstances of his escape saw to that.
Sebastian still couldn’t understand those. Someone had unlocked his cell door and killed all the guards in Rupert’s townhouse, but they hadn’t bothered to claim the credit for it; hadn’t even announced themselves. Sebastian would have expected a rescuer to be there for this part of the escape as well. Instead, he progressed along Ashton’s streets alone.
He skulked through Knotty Hill and the Screws, making his way slowly toward the docks. He was cautious, and not just for all the usual reasons that someone making their way through Ashton needed to be cautious. At some point, Rupert would find out that he was missing, and send men to hunt for him.
“I need to be away before then,” Sebastian said to himself. That part seemed obvious.
If he still had his mother’s favor, it would be a different matter, but after he’d run out on his wedding, he doubted she would be in a mood to help him. Besides, the truth was that he wanted to leave Ashton quickly for another reason: the sooner he left, the sooner he would reach Ishjemme and Sophia.
“I will get to her,” he promised himself. He would reach her, and he would be together with her. That was what mattered right now.
He made his way down to the docks, finding an inn and settling into a corner, the cowl of his cloak up as he watched for men who might be working for Rupert. They’d caught him on the way out of the city once, after all.
“What can I get you?” a serving woman asked him.
Sebastian put a small coin on the table from the pouch that someone had left him along with the cloak and a double-edged dagger. “Food,” he said, “and information. Are there any ships leaving for Ishjemme?”
The serving woman took the coin. “Food, I can manage. For the other, you’re welcome to sit here and listen. Captains come through often enough with the docks.”
Sebastian had thought it might come to that. He’d been hoping to be out of Ashton quickly, but he couldn’t risk going along the docks simply asking for a ship again. That had been how Rupert had caught him last time. He needed to take his time. He needed to listen.
He did both, sitting there and trying to pick up what he could of the conversations there in the inn while he ate a plate of bread, cheese, and cured ham. The men in the corner were talking about the wars across the Knifewater, which no longer seemed so distant now that the New Army had tried to invade. A man and a woman were talking in whispers, but Sebastian could see enough of them together to guess that they were making promises to one another and working out a life together. It made him think of Sophia. Others were talking about the latest players’ works, or the arguments they’d seen out on the docks. In amongst it all, though, one whisper caught at Sebastian’s ears.
“The Dowager…”
Sebastian stood, making his way over to the dock hand who’d said it.
“What was that?” he demanded. “What were you saying about the Dowager?”
He kept his head down, hoping no one would realize who he was.
“What’s it to you?” the dock hand demanded.
Sebastian thought quickly, letting his voice take on the same rough edge. “Been hearing her name all day. Finally thought I’d see what was happening.”
The dock hand shrugged. “Well, you’ll not get much from me. All I’ve heard is what anyone’s heard: something’s happening up at the palace. There are whispers about the Dowager, and now the whole place is locked down. My brother had a delivery up that way, and was stuck more than an hour just at Higharch.”
“Thanks,” Sebastian said, moving away from the other man and heading for the door.
By rights, the hints of trouble at the palace should have meant nothing to him. He should have just kept going with his original plan to find a boat and get to Sophia as quickly as he could. Whatever was happening with his mother, it wasn’t any of his business.
Sebastian tried to tell himself all of that. Even so, his feet found themselves turning inexorably in the direction of the palace, carrying him across the cobbles and up through the city.
“Sophia will be waiting,” he told himself, but the truth was that he didn’t even know if Sophia had played a role in his escape. If she had, wouldn’t his rescuers have announced themselves? She might not know that he was on his way, and in any case, could Sebastian really leave without at least knowing what was happening?
He made up his mind. He would go to the palace, grab supplies, and learn what was happening. If he did it quietly, Sebastian guessed he might be out of there before anyone even noticed, and in a far better position to get the ship he needed to Ishjemme and Sophia. He nodded to himself, walking in the direction of the palace, then stopping to hail a passing palanquin for hire. The bearers looked at him skeptically, but didn’t voice any doubts once he’d thrown them a couple of coins.
“This is close enough,” Sebastian said, once they reached a street not far from the palace grounds. He couldn’t risk trying to get in through the front doors, in case Rupert’s cronies were there. Instead, Sebastian slipped around to one of the garden gates. There was a guard there, looking surprisingly alert considering it was such a minor gate that he was guarding. Sebastian watched him for a while, then beckoned to a nearby street urchin and held out a coin.
“What’s that for?” the child asked, suspicion ringing through his tone. Sebastian wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had happened to make the child that suspicious of strangers.
“I want you to go and cause trouble with that guard. Get him to chase you, but don’t get caught. Do you think you can do that?”
The child nodded.
“Do a good job, and there’s another coin in it for you,” Sebastian promised, then stood back in a doorway to wait.
He didn’t have to wait long. In less than a minute, the child was there, throwing mud in the direction of the guard. One spattered off his helmet, bursting over his uniform in a great spray of earth.
“Oi!” the guard yelled, and ran for the urchin.
Sebastian hurried into the gap that was left, making his way through the gate and into the palace grounds. He hoped the child would be all right. He suspected he would, because no urchin lived on Ashton’s streets for long without being able to run.
Sebastian made his way through the gardens, finding himself thinking about the walks he’d taken with Sophia through them. He would be reunited with her soon. Maybe Ishjemme would have gardens to rival the beauty of the climbing roses here. He intended to find out either way.
The grounds were quieter than they normally were. On any normal day, there should have been servants bustling about, gardening or collecting herbs and vegetables for the kitchens. There should have been nobles taking formal turns around the grounds, for the exercise, for the opportunity to talk politics with one another without being overheard, or as part of the elaborate hints and subtle gestures that constituted courtship in the kingdom.
Instead, the gardens were all but empty, and Sebastian found himself slipping through the kitchen gardens, into the palace through a side door. Servants there stared at him, and Sebastian kept moving, not wanting the entanglements that might come if someone called out his presence. He didn’t want to be caught up talking to the full court; he just wanted to find out what was happening and leave again, as unobtrusively as possible.
Sebastian made his way through the palace, ducking back every time he thought a guard might be coming, heading in the direction of his rooms. He went in, collecting a spare sword and changing his clothes, grabbing a bag and filling it with what supplies he could. He went out into the palace again…
…and almost immediately found himself face to face with a servant, who started to back away, terror etched on her face, as if she thought he might cut her down.
“Don’t worry,” Sebastian said. “I won’t hurt you. I’m just here to—”
“He’s here!” the servant called out. “Prince Sebastian is here!”
Almost immediately, the sound of booted feet followed. Sebastian turned to run down the hallway, sprinting along the corridors he’d spent most of his life walking. He went left, then right, trying to lose the men who ran along behind him now, yelling for him to stop.
There were more men ahead. Sebastian glanced around, then burst into a nearby room, hoping that there might at least be an adjoining door or a place to hide. There was neither.
Guards crowded into the room. Sebastian considered his options, thought about the beating he’d received at the hands of Rupert’s men, and drew his sword almost on instinct.
“Put the sword down, your highness,” the leader of the guards commanded. There were men on either side of Sebastian now, and, to his surprise, at least some had muskets leveled. What kind of men would risk his mother’s anger by threatening one of her sons with death like that? Normally, they didn’t dare so much as a rebuke. It was part of the reason Rupert had gotten away with so much over the years.
Sebastian wasn’t Rupert, though, and he wasn’t foolish enough to consider fighting against a group of armed men like that. He lowered his sword, but didn’t drop it.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. There was one card he could play here that didn’t sit well with him, but might be his best option to stay safe. “I am the heir to my mother’s throne, and you are threatening me. Lower your weapons at once!”
“Is that why you did it?” the guards’ leader demanded, in a tone that held more hatred than Sebastian had heard in his life. “Did you want to be the heir?”
“Is that why I did what?” Sebastian shot back. “What is happening here? When my mother hears of this—”
“There’s no point in playing innocent,” the guard captain said. “We know you’re the one who murdered the Dowager.”
“Murdered…” It was as though the world stopped in that moment. Sebastian stood there open-mouthed, his sword clattering from nerveless fingers as the shock of it hit him. Someone had murdered the Dowager? His mother was dead?
Grief poured into him, the sheer horror of what had happened filling him. His mother was dead? She couldn’t be. She’d always been there, as immovable as rock, and now… she was gone, torn away in an instant.
Instantly, men rushed in to grab him, arms fastening onto his from either side. Sebastian was too numb to even struggle. He couldn’t believe it. He’d thought that his mother would outlast everyone else in the kingdom. He’d thought her so strong, so cunning, that nothing would be able to bring her to an end. Now someone had murdered her.
No, not someone. There was only one person it was likely to be.
“Rupert did this,” Sebastian said. “Rupert is the one who—”
“Stop your lies,” the guard captain said. “I’m to believe that it’s a coincidence that we’ve found you running armed through the palace so soon after your mother’s death? Prince Sebastian of the House of Flamberg, I am arresting you for the murder of your mother. Take him to one of the towers, lads. I expect they’ll want to try him for this before they execute him as the traitor he is.”
Angelica sat primly in the drawing room of Rupert’s townhouse, as perfectly arranged as the flowers sitting on the mantelpiece, listening to the realm’s elder prince panic while trying not to show any of her distain.
“I killed her!” he shouted, spreading his arms wide as he paced back and forth. “I actually killed her.”
“Shout it a little louder, my prince,” Angelica said, unable to keep at least a little of the disdain she felt from seeping through. “I think there are some people in the next building who might not have heard you.”
“Don’t make fun of me!” Rupert said, pointing at her. “You… you put me up to this.”
A faint trickle of fear rose in Angelica at that. She had no wish to be the target of Rupert’s anger.
“And yet you are the one covered in the Dowager’s blood,” Angelica said, with a faint hint of disgust. Not at the killing; the old bat had deserved that. It was simply disgust at the inelegance of it all, and the stupidity of her husband-to-be.
Rupert’s expression flashed with anger, but then he looked down at himself as if seeing the blood on his shirt for the first time, staining it crimson to match his coat. His expression returned to something distraught as he did it. Strange, Angelica thought, was it possible that they’d found one person Rupert actually regretted hurting?
“They’ll kill me for it,” Rupert said. “I killed my mother. I walked through the palace with her blood on me. People saw me.”
Possibly half of Ashton saw him, given the way he’d probably gone through the streets with it. The best that could be said was that at least he’d had a cloak wrapped around him for that part of the journey. As for the rest… well, Angelica would deal with it.
“Take your shirt off,” she ordered.
“You do not command me!” Rupert said, rounding on her.
Angelica stood firm, but made her tone gentler, trying to soothe Rupert the way he so obviously wanted. “Take your shirt off, Rupert. We need to get you cleaned up.”
He did it, throwing off his coat as well. Angelica dabbed at the blood spots that remained with a kerchief and a bowl of water, erasing what she could of the traces of violence. She rang a small bell and a waiting servant came in with fresh clothes, taking the old ones away.
“There,” Angelica said as Rupert dressed, “doesn’t that feel better?”
To her surprise, Rupert shook his head. “It doesn’t take away what happened. It doesn’t take away what I see in here, in here!” He struck at the side of his head with a flat palm.
Angelica caught his hand, kissing his brow as gently as a mother with a child. “You mustn’t hurt yourself. You’re too precious to me for that.”
Precious was one word for it. Necessary might be another. Angelica needed Rupert alive and well, at least for now. He was the key to unlock the doors of power, and he needed to be intact to do it. Controlling him had proved so easy before, but all of this was… unexpected.
“You’ll lose me soon,” Rupert said. “When they find out what I did…”
“Rupert, I’ve never seen a death affect you like this before,” Angelica said. “You’ve fought in battles. You’ve commanded armies that have killed thousands.”
He’d fought and killed in less obviously necessary causes, too. He’d hurt more than his share of people in his life. From what Angelica had heard, he’d done things that would turn most people’s stomachs, hidden away from the world. Why should one more death be a problem?
“This was my mother,” Rupert said, as if that made it obvious. “She wasn’t some peasant. She was my mother, and the queen.”
“The mother who was going to steal your birthright,” Angelica pointed out. “The queen who was going to exile you.”
“Even so—” Rupert began.
Angelica took hold of his shoulders, wishing she could get away with shaking some sense into him. “There is no even so,” she said. “She was going to take everything from you. She was going to destroy you to give everything to her son—”
“I am her son!” Rupert shouted, pushing Angelica back. Angelica knew she should have been afraid of him in that moment, but the truth was that she wasn’t. For the moment, at least, she was the one in control.
“Yes, you are,” Angelica said. “Her son, and her heir, and she tried to take all of that from you. She tried to give it to someone who would have hurt you. It was practically self-defense.”
Rupert shook his head. “People won’t… they won’t see it like that. When they learn what I have done…”
“Why should they learn that?” Angelica asked, in a perfectly reasonable tone that pretended not to understand. She moved over to one of the couches there, sitting and taking a cup of chilled wine. She gestured for Rupert to do the same, and he drank his at a speed that suggested he barely tasted it.
“People will have seen me,” Rupert said. “They will guess where the blood came from.”
Angelica hadn’t thought Rupert was that stupid. She’d thought he was a fool, obviously, even a dangerous fool, but not that much of one.
“People can be bought, or threatened, or killed,” she said. “They can be distracted by rumors, or even persuaded that they were wrong. I have people listening for hints that people are speaking up against you, and any who are will be either silenced or made to look like fools, so that they are ignored.”
“Even so—” Rupert began.
“There you go again, my love,” Angelica said. “You are a strong man, a confident man. Why are you second-guessing yourself with this?”
“Because there are so many ways it can go wrong,” Rupert said. “I am not a fool. I know what people think of me. If rumors start, they will believe them.”
“Then I shall see that they do not start,” Angelica said, “or that a more suitable target for them is found.” She reached out to take one of his hands in hers. “When you have bedded some noble’s daughter in the past and been too rough with her, did you worry about their wrath?”
Rupert shook his head. “I have never—”
“Lying is your first tool in this,” Angelica said, calmly. She knew exactly what Rupert had done in the past, and to whom. She’d made it her business to know every small detail, so that she would be able to use it if she had to. Originally, the plan had been to destroy the prince when she married Sebastian, but it could be just as useful now.
“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up,” Rupert said. “It isn’t relevant. It’s—”
“Distraction is your second,” Angelica said. “We will find better things for the people to focus on.”
She saw Rupert flush with anger.
“I will be your king,” he snapped.
“And that is your third tool,” Angelica whispered, moving in to kiss him. “You are safe. Do you understand, my love? Or you will be. The trick now is to shore up your position.”
She watched Rupert relax visibly as the idea started to sink in. However deeply killing his mother had touched him, he knew how to get away with whatever he did. He’d been doing it for long enough, after all. Or maybe it was the prospect of power that calmed him, the thought of what would follow.
“I have already spoken to my allies,” Rupert said.
“And now it is time to get them to act,” Angelica replied. “Make them a part of this from the start. The Dowager’s death is already rumor for the city, and it will be announced formally soon enough. Things must move quickly now.” She drew him to his feet. “All kinds of things.”
“Which things?” Rupert asked. Angelica put it down to the shock.
“Our wedding, Rupert,” she said. “It must happen before people have a chance to argue. We must present them with a stable front, a settled royal dynasty to follow.”
Rupert moved surprisingly quickly when he grabbed her by the throat, the anger there rising up again with dangerous rapidity.
“Don’t tell me what I must do,” he said. “My mother tried to do that.”
“I am not your mother,” Angelica replied, trying not to wince at the strength of the grip. “But I would like to be your wife before the day is done. I thought we’d discussed that, Rupert. I thought it was what you wanted.”
Rupert let go of her. “I don’t know. I don’t… none of this is what I planned.”
“Isn’t it?” Angelica asked. “You planned to take the throne. Surely you knew what sacrifices that would involve? Although I’d like to think that marrying me is hardly that much of a hardship.”
She moved back from him. “If you like, it is not too late to call things off. Tell me to leave, and I will vacate Ashton for my family’s estates. Choose to wait, and we will wait. Of course, then you would not have my family’s strength, or their allies. And there would be no one to help you to contain all those… difficult rumors.”
“You’re threatening me?” Rupert demanded. Angelica knew how dangerous a game that was. Even so, she was going to play it, because the real game she was playing was far more dangerous.
“I’m simply pointing out the advantages you gain by going through with it, my love,” Angelica said. “Marry me, and I can make all of this so much easier for you. It is better to do it today than a month from now. If I can act as your wife, I have a reason to protect you from the world.”
Rupert stood there for several seconds, and for a moment Angelica thought she might have misjudged all of this. That he might walk away after all. Then he gave a single, terse nod.
“Very well,” he said. “If it matters to you, we will do it today. Now, I’m going to get some air and start contacting our allies.”
He turned and walked out. Angelica suspected that he was more likely to seek out wine than their allies, but that didn’t matter. It was probably even to their benefit. She would soon have them doing all that they should, sending messages on behalf of her husband.
She rang the bell for a servant.
“See that the clothes Prince Rupert was wearing when he came in are burned,” she said to the girl who came in. “Then fetch a priestess of the Masked Goddess, and invite the members of the Dowager’s inner council to meet at the palace. Oh, and send someone along to my dressmaker. There should be a wedding dress waiting for me by now.”
“My lady?” the girl said.
“Am I not speaking clearly enough?” Angelica asked. “My dressmaker. Go.”
The girl went. It was strange how stupid people could be sometimes. The servant had obviously assumed that Angelica would have made no preparations for her own wedding. Instead, she’d begun sending messages out for the preparations almost as soon as she got the idea to have Rupert marry her. It was important that this wedding looked as much like one as possible given the short notice.
It was a shame that there would be no opportunity to have a bigger ceremony later, but there was one obvious impediment to that: Rupert would be dead by then.
Today had shown the necessity of that more clearly than Angelica could have believed. She’d thought Rupert a man as much in control of himself as she was of herself, yet he remained as changeable as the wind. No, the plan she’d put in place was the way to go. She would marry Rupert tonight, kill him by morning, and be crowned queen before his body was even in the ground.
Ashton would have the queen it needed then. Angelica would rule, and the kingdom would be better for it. Everything was going to turn out right. She could feel it.