War Poet (Rogue Bardess Book 2)

by Verna McKinnon

CHAPTER ONE

Queen Beleth of Mordok gazed into the polished copper mirror, her savage beauty untouched despite the dreams plaguing her sleep each day. The same cursed image of a Siabur. Why was a shadow fey haunting her? She waited, impatiently, for her slave, Crone, to bring her the bronze crown.
“Hurry, fool!” she shouted. “My lord, Morziel, awaits me.”
Crone finally shuffled into the chamber, carrying the sacred circlet in her gray, withered hands. “I polished it for you.”
“It’s about time. Place it on my head,” Beleth commanded. Though slow as a worm, the aged rock troll was devoted to Beleth, and Beleth rarely whipped her because of it.
“My mistress honors this unworthy slave,” Crone murmured and carefully placed the ancient coronet on Beleth’s head.
“We must honor the Grim Gods, for tonight is the blood moon feast,” Beleth said, making sure the coronet sat upon her head at a perfect angle.
Crone’s beady black eyes glimmered with joy. “Yes, the blood moon comes! The Grim Gods smile on us this sacred night. We will wildly dance and cry out to the black heavens.”
“You’re too creaky and stiff to dance with wild abandon,” Beleth remarked.
“Once upon a time, I danced,” Crone said, chuckling. “Feral and happy I was then.”
“Finish adorning me for my lord. Night is precious, as the day is a curse. Be quick, and I’ll toss you a morsel from my plate.”
Crone salivated with hunger and dressed her mistress quickly.
In the cavernous chamber, Beleth took her place on the throne next to Morziel. Gurza sat beside Beleth on a smaller throne. As mother of Morziel, Gurza would always hold a prominent place. Fellow Kobalos demons sat in places of honor as Morziel’s advisors, generals, and priests. Lowly rock trolls, changelings, gray-skinned war goblins, and green worker goblins mingled together. These low-caste demons served the higher red Kobalos caste, of which there were only a handful. Fires burned red, and the smell of roasting meat permeated the cave. A disturbance seized Beleth’s attention as goblin sentries dragged a raggedly dressed human to the chamber.
“What obscenity is this? A disgusting human trespasses into our sacred caves!” Gurza cried.
“How did this happen?” Morziel demanded.
The ugly man with scraggly brown hair and pasty skin only laughed as the goblins kicked him. The goblin sentries forced him to kneel at Morziel’s feet.
“How did this human trespass into Skull Mountain?” Morziel demanded. “How did it even make its way through Mordok’s harsh wilderness, howlers, and troll sentries?”
“We do not know, dread king,” the guard replied, bowing his head. “We caught him before he entered our tunnels. Shall we flay him for your pleasure? And then roast him?”
The human stared at Beleth impudently.
“You dare cast your eyes at me?” Beleth asked. “Turn them away, or I’ll carve them out and eat them as you scream in blindness and pain.”
The human laughed. “So quick to judge me? Don’t you see I am one of you?”
Then the human shifted into a gray changeling—one Beleth and Morziel recognized. Except now, burn scars covered the changeling’s body.
“My human cloak was called Albin before I killed him,” the changeling said. “I’ve kept pieces of him in my pouch for a quick change. Crimson is clever.”
“Crimson is a traitor,” Morziel observed. “Many moons you have been absent.”
“Not traitor, Lord. I suffered under human cruelty until a power spared me from death’s fiery hand.”
“My hand is stronger, Changeling,” Morziel snarled. “Let your brethren feed on you as punishment.”
Hungry for Crimson’s flesh, the demons flocked around her, growling. But before they ripped her apart, a burst of light chased away all shadows in the chamber. The demons howled and covered their demon eyes from cruel brightness.
Beleth gripped her throne, struggling to focus through her fractured vision. All around her, the demons fell unconscious. She, however, remained conscious, as did Morziel. Crimson the changeling crouched on the floor, clapping her hands with giddy joy.
“Useless goblins and trolls!” Morziel raged, kicking at the stunned bodies strewn across the rocky floor.
A mystical portal opened on the ground, and a man rose from the shadows. Silver hair flowed like mist, framing ghostly skin and eyes the color of night. Red robes adorned his body as he moved easily among them. Beleth shuddered, seeing her nightmares made flesh.
“Who dares challenge me?” Morziel shouted, stepping from his stone dais to confront the invader.
Crimson scuttled to the feet of her master. “Hold, Morziel, for this is Fallon Gansis. He’s Siabur. A shadow fey from the old realms. He comes to speak with you.”
“The dark fey are a myth told to scare goblin hatchlings,” Morziel said.
“Lord Gansis lives in our world, but he hates the humans,” Crimson said. “He has power, like the Grim Gods.”
“Blasphemer,” Morziel accused, unsheathing his sword.
Fallon made only a gesture, and Morziel and Beleth froze.
“Now we can talk,” Fallon said, approaching them. “You cannot move, but I grant you the power to speak.”
“I will kill you, Fey,” Morziel said.
Fallon tilted his head, bored. “Be silent and listen, Goblin. I have a gift for you. Let me show you the realm from which your ancestors came here so long ago.” Above them, a glittering shroud of night formed into a spinning world of black splendor, encircled by seven moons. “No golden sun contaminates this shadowed land. A world of pure night graced by moonlight.”
“This is the shadow world from our fables,” Beleth whispered. “Can this paradise be real?”
“Yes, and it waits for you.” Fallon gazed at the ghostly sphere. “Long ago, the heavens raged and split worlds. In the turmoil, I fell to this one, as your ancestors did. Trapped in a world of sun. Just as you, I live in the underground of a world that despises us.”
“Why do you care, Fey? You’re a creature of the terrible light,” Beleth said.
“Am I a creature of light?” Fallon challenged, circling Beleth. “I am Siabur. Dark fey. Use your divining. See remnants of the dark star that pierced my soul. You worship the Grim Gods, but have you seen their terror?”
“What do you know of our Grim Gods?” Morziel asked.
“They touched me,” Fallon said.
“Did they burn you?” Gurza taunted.
Fallon’s eyes flashed when he faced the old goblin. “Yes, and scarred me in ways you could never imagine.” He stroked Crimson’s head, and she trembled at his feet. “This poor changeling’s savage burns are nothing compared to how the Grim Gods marked me. I am their dark herald in this mortal realm. I know this world’s light holds them prisoner. Would your race be trapped in a world of sun if the Grim Gods roamed free?”
Old Gurza cried out in panic. “Do not deal with this Siabur! Our legends warn us of their breed. The dark scriptures warn us of their threat.”
“Hold your tongue, Mother. I rule Mordok now,” Morziel said.
“The cosmos has rules,” Fallon answered. “I learned long ago how important rules are. Over the centuries, I have devised a ritual to send you home. I ask for truly little to deliver this magic. War on the humans, if you must. Soak this world with their blood. I will prepare the way for your exodus to your true world. When the time comes, I will open the fissures in the cosmos and return you to the shadow world of your ancestors.”
“What is your price, Fey?” Morziel demanded.
Fallon waved his hand, and Morziel and Beleth could move again. “I require a sacred space. The ritual compels this. At the top of this mountain, there is a great and sacred temple.”
“It is sacred to us,” Beleth protested. “Your presence would foul it.”
“And it is necessary for the ritual,” Fallon replied. “It is a point of power and connection. I can liberate you from this world. Let me use this temple. However, I forbid anyone from entering this temple as I prepare.”
Morziel’s eyes glittered. “Agreed. But if you fail us, Fey, I shall rip you apart myself and feed on your flesh.”
“No, Morziel,” Beleth begged, falling at her king’s feet. “I’ve had dreams of this Siabur. He cannot be trusted. Kill him! Now. He brings only death to us.”
“Rise, Beleth,” Morziel commanded. “You are queen of Mordok. Do not demean yourself like a slave. The dark fey promises to send us back to our true world. We will see if he can conjure this sorcery.”
“Then we have a bargain,” Fallon said, nodding.
We will have death, Beleth thought bitterly, holding Gurza as she wept.

War Poet will be available on Amazon on Mar 15.