Oaths of shadow book two.., p.1
Oaths of Shadow: Book Two of the Vendi Chronicles, page 1
Wounds of Ash: Book One of the Vendi Chronicles
Copyright © 2024 by KL Hester
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book 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 fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
K.L. Hester
klhesterwrites@gmail.com
Cover design by GetCovers
Author Photo by Holly’s Hobby’s Photography
Map design by KL Hester
Artwork by Valerie @mleram on Fiverr
First Edition: September 2024
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated to my children.
Emma and Oliver, your lives may have been short, but have impacted ours for eternity. Anthony, our bright star amidst the darkness of grief, your laughter and love for life is contagious.
I am forever grateful I get to be your mom.
Note from the Author:
Oaths of Shadow is a NA epic romantic fantasy with thematic elements that may not be suitable for all readers. It contains scenes of fantasy violence, torture, kidnapping, murder of parental figures, grief, and flashbacks of a sexual assault and other trauma.
Romantic elements:
While there is no on-page sex, there are allusions and some mild foreplay.
If you are in need of more clarification about any of the content, do not hesitate to reach out to the author on Instagram @klhester_author.
Contents
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty-One
22. Twenty-Two
23. Twenty-Three
24. Twenty-Four
25. Twenty-Five
26. Twenty-Six
27. Twenty-Seven
28. Twenty-Eight
29. Twenty-Nine
30. Thirty
31. Thirty-One
32. Thirty-Two
33. Thirty-Three
34. Thirty-Four
35. Thirty-Five
36. Thirty-Six
37. Thirty-Seven
38. Thirty-Eight
39. Thirty-Nine
40. Forty
41. Forty-One
42. Forty-two
43. Forty-Three
44. Forty-Four
45. Forty-Five
46. Forty-Six
47. Forty-Seven
48. Forty-Eight
49. Forty-Nine
50. Fifty
51. Fifty-One
52. Fifty-Two
53. Fifty-Three
54. Fifty-Four
55. Fifty-Five
56. Fifty-Six
57. Fifty-Seven
58. Fifty-Eight
59. Fifty-Nine
60. Sixty
61. Sixty-One
62. Sixty-Two
63. Sixty-Three
64. Sixty-Four
65. Sixty-Five
66. Sixty-Six
67. Sixty-Seven
68. Sixty-Eight
69. Sixty-Nine
70. Seventy
71. Seventy-One
72. Epilogue
74. Bonus Chapter
75. Acknowledgements
About the Author
One
Blood ran down Driel’s blade and over his gloved hand before dripping to the ground. He twisted his sword in further, and a satisfied smile played on his lips as the light faded from the assailant’s eyes. They were brown with only a hint of gold. He hadn’t given the man an opportunity to call upon his magic before being run through.
Another lowlife down, he thought, barely sparing the man a glance as he withdrew his sword and wiped it clean with his cloak.
He looked over to where his queen stood a few paces away. She was surrounded by a handful of bodies lying at awkward angles on the ground. Her black cloak billowed around her in the late summer breeze, revealing the onyx armor she wore beneath. Her black crown was a patch of midnight atop her head. It made the silken strands of her blonde hair look even paler in the sunlight.
A feeling of unease came over Driel as he stared at the crown. Made entirely of glass, it had a way of pulling all light toward it—including sunlight. He was still staring at her when she turned to him with lips pursed and weapons held out toward him.
“Clean these for me, will you?” As always, it was more of a demand than a question. She tapped her foot impatiently as he made his way over the dozen or so bodies that littered the ground between them. Wordlessly, he took her weapons and began cleaning the blood from them. She could kill, and had spent her childhood training with the best weapons masters Myral had. Cleaning her weapons? That was beneath her.
“This was the third time this week, Driel,” she said dryly, inspecting her fingernails and the blood that now stained them. “They are getting braver.”
“Only because they fear your power.” He handed her weapons back to her, then ran the back of his arm across his forehead, smearing the blood and sweat already on his face. “And it’s not bravery to send assassins to do the job. It’s cowardice.”
“The rest of the Wyvanni are too shortsighted to see the vision I have for the world. They cower in Ringard, fearing for their futures.” She tapped a finger against the side of a chakram before looking at him with a sly smile that didn’t reach her gold-flecked hazel eyes. “How about we give them something to fear in the present?”
He gave her a questioning look, unsure of how to respond as she bent down and touched one of the figures she had downed. This man was still breathing, much to Driel’s surprise—she usually went for the killing blow.
“I read about something in the lore, something the other Wyvanni have kept hidden.” She closed her eyes, and Driel could feel the pulse of her magic through their bond. He was used to this feeling. Much like her crown, her magic had a magnetism he couldn’t resist. It flowed outward, searching, and his heart began pounding in his chest as her magic stopped on the wounded man.
Something is wrong. This isn’t right.
“Always the pessimist,” she sneered without looking up. It didn’t surprise him that she had heard his thoughts—unless he was trying to block her, she always heard his thoughts.
He stayed silent and kept his mind blank, not wanting to reveal any more of his discomfort as the man’s breathing turned from shallow breaths to gasps. Where the man had once had the tanned skin of an Alenth desert dweller, his skin was adopting an ashen hue.
The man’s body convulsed, and he let out a single blood-curdling scream that had Driel covering his ears with blood encrusted hands. Unable to look away, Driel’s own breathing sped up, and he gasped as the man’s scream died out and his body went deathly still.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Madra pouted, looking from the man to Driel. “The book made it sound like that would work.”
“What book?” he asked, but stopped as the corpse let out a rattled rasp and sat up. Driel reached for the Ringada blade at his side and suppressed a shudder as the monster turned to stare at him with eyes so dark no white remained. It looked Driel over, as if sizing up an opponent. Noticing Driel’s apprehension, it smiled at him, and Driel felt his body go cold as he stared into those soulless eyes.
The creature turned its attention to Madra, and its smile went from sinister to conspiratorial. Its voice was reminiscent of nails on slate as it asked, “Mistress?”
“Who sent you to kill me?” she demanded, unperturbed by the creature’s dark eyes staring up at her. Driel felt her reach out with her magic and squeeze upon the creature’s life force. As she did, an unfamiliar sensation flooded the bond, making Driel clutch his chest and fall to his knees as if she were squeezing on his own.
Panicked, Driel reached inward and inspected their bond more closely. What had once been a silver band of thought and light running between them was now cast with an inky darkness. It swirled around her side of the bond before sinking into the silver band. The glow dimmed as a thin cord of black raced toward his side of the bond. Before he could pull back, it latched onto him, and he let out a cry of his own as the bond pulled taut between them.
Hungry... so hungry... The monster’s voice screamed in his head.
What have you done? Driel mentally shouted at Madra. His heart beat erratically, moving in time with the creature’s cries of hunger.
Madra sent a feeling of contempt through the bond, showing how displeased she was with his tone. He was never one to cross her—it was almost impossible with the bond they shared. Her interests were his interest, but this? He had no desire to be near this creature any longer.
Still squeezing on the creature’s life force, Madra held one
The creature’s eyes went wide as it stared at the weapon. Driel could sense its fear through whatever dark magic had bonded this creature to them.
So it has a sense of self-preservation... He began taking mental notes, not caring if she heard as he observed from where he knelt, still clutching his chest.
Madra pressed the chakram harder into the creature’s neck. A trail of black blood trickled down the weapon, and the creature let out a cry. “I never knew their names. They wore hoods when they met me in the pub. They gave me this, though.” The creature spoke frantically, fearing for its life as it reached a hand into its pocket and pulled out a wooden medallion with a kirin carved into it.
“Ringard,” Madra hissed as she smacked the medallion out of the creature’s hand. It rolled onto the grass and stopped in a puddle of blood next to Driel. He watched as the blood soaked into the porous wood, staining it crimson.
“Those pathetic fools—all of them! Denying me of my right to the throne after everything I did for them.” She stopped, turning to look at the creature.
“As for the one who hired you…” she smiled wickedly, “I want you to return to the village where you met the hooded figure. Maim everyone you see, but do not kill. We are going to build an army.”
The creature gave her a wide smile.
“An army?” Driel asked, as the pain subsided through the bond. He glanced again at the wooden medallion.
Madra turned toward him, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Yes—an army of grarg. It is time we take back everything that has been taken from me.”
Two
Pain.
All she knew was pain.
Will it ever end?
Her thoughts were sluggish, and a sharp pain lanced through her head as she tried to focus on her surroundings. Her eyes refused to open, and she listened, breath ragged, as the horse moved beneath her. Soft voices—male from the sound of it—whispered to each other, and she strained to hear what they were saying.
“She’ll be okay, Jos,” one of them said. The voice was familiar, and with it came the impression of inappropriate jokes shared around a fire.
“She refused to drink water this time,” the other answered, with an edge of defeat. This voice was even more familiar. It sent pleasant chills through her body and made her feel safe.
Water? Was that what that was? She vaguely recalled something being pressed to her lips, but she hadn’t had the energy to open her mouth. It had moved after a few moments and the horse had resumed its gait.
“We will be in Vendin by tomorrow,” the first voice said.
Vendin? Why would I be going to Vendin? I live in Elwryn… No, that’s not right. I live in… she couldn’t remember.
She moaned as she forced her eyes open to a squint. The sunlight reflected off gray rock, and she blinked, trying to clear her vision. When she opened them once more, she let out a gasp as she noticed an antlered beast staring at her from across the way. It was as tall as the horse she rode on, with a similar build, but the snout and claws of a lion. Where its mane would be, flames of orange and gold rippled on some invisible wind and reflected off the golden scales that covered the animal’s entire body.
The creature snorted and prowled toward her, keeping pace with the horse. Aliyah could feel its keen eyes on her—eyes that showed more awareness than any animal she had ever seen. Its gaze pierced into her soul. She tried reaching out for the creature, but her limbs were too heavy. The creature, as if sensing her intent, butted its muzzle against her knee, much like a house cat, and a feeling of peace radiated through her.
Rest, all will be well, a voice said into her mind as the creature nudged her knee one more time before moving away. The voice was neither old nor young, but it had a weight to it that gave Aliyah the impression it was ancient.
“Are you alright to travel through the night? The faster we get to Grandmother’s, the sooner we can get her help.” The voice that had made Aliyah feel safe now carried a worried tone that pierced through her pain. It dragged her focus from the magnificent creature, and an image of a short woman with olive skin and a salt and pepper braid standing outside an orange house flashed before her eyes.
I know her, Aliyah thought, as her head lulled to the side. Why do I know her?
She didn’t have any living relatives other than her aunt. An image of Elwryn in flame and unearthly howls came to her, and she whimpered, remembering the feeling of being chased while escaping on the back of a horse that wasn’t hers.
She clenched her eyes shut against the memory and the others that pushed and shoved to be remembered. Behind her closed eyelids, she sensed a bright flash of light, and she peeked one eye open to find the antlered creature was gone.
She hadn’t realized the pain had stopped when the creature had touched her, but now the pain came crashing back. As it did, all thoughts of antlered beasts, grandmothers, and unearthly creatures slid from her mind. It was a blessed release when the movement of the horse rocked her to sleep.
Nothing had changed in the ravine in the few days since they had last traversed its rocky bottom. Yet everything felt different as Josen followed Kaino and his horse. Ember and Raynar followed behind him, their steps loud on the rocks. Each step of their hooves matched the pounding of Josen’s heart and, not for the first time, he sent a worried glance over his shoulder at where Aliyah lay unconscious on the back of Raynar.
It had been two days since they had found her in that cave. Two days full of terror as they watched for infection in her wounds from the slices made by Caldryk’s knife. Two days of worrying about what else the monster had done to her.
What had been done to her… There were no words to express the anger he felt at the way Aliyah had been taken in Ylen and then violated in the cave. She had been too weak to tell him everything that her ex-fiancé had done to her, but it wasn’t hard to guess. Bruises and burns in the shape of hands marred her exposed shoulders, chest, legs, and neck, each telling a story punctuated by the fresh slices that had been carved into her skin.
He had vomited the morning following her rescue when the sun had risen, and the extent of her physical harm became more pronounced in the sunlight. Violent scenarios of what had happened to her constantly played out in his mind as they traveled—taking turns with the worry that ate at him as she became more lethargic by the hour.
From the comments Kaino had made, he knew similar thoughts plagued his friend.
They were almost at the end of the ravine when Aliyah whimpered in pain. Josen sent another frantic look in her direction, but her eyes were still closed. He watched her for a few more minutes as she shifted in discomfort before letting out another whimper. She had been like this since the cave—unconscious except for the few blessed minutes they could wake her to drink some water. They had been unable to get her to eat anything, and it only added to Josen’s worry.
They had taken a gamble. From the cave, it was two days to Ylen or three to Vendin in the opposite direction. They had chosen the larger city, renowned for its trade at the heart of the continent. Outside of Ringard, Vendin had the best healers.
We could have been in Ylen by now. Did we make the wrong choice? Flames formed at Josen’s knuckles as he tightened his fists around the reins.
Choosing to go to Vendin had seemed a smart decision at the time. However, there had been color to Aliyah’s tan skin two days ago, and she hadn’t been running a fever as she was now.
A shiver passed through her, and she let out a small groan. His magic pulsed under his skin in response. Protect. Protect. Protect. Its pulsing turned to shoves, and he could feel his control slipping even more as flames spread from his knuckles halfway to his elbows.
Just like after Ellie’s death.
His magic had been erratic with the death of Ellie. It had taken a long time for him to come out of the anger, then numbness that he had experienced following the murder of his wife. Aliyah had been the one to break past his defenses and help him feel again. If she were to die—
No. I can’t think like that. She’ll live.
He breathed in slowly and imagined the flames within him extinguishing with each exhale. The ravine had been the hardest part to navigate–especially with Aliyah atop Raynar. Now that they crested the top and were once again on packed dirt, travel would be faster.
