King of bones bonebreake.., p.1

King Of Bones (Bonebreaker Trilogy Book 1), page 1

 part  #4 of  Battleborn Series

 

King Of Bones (Bonebreaker Trilogy Book 1)
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King Of Bones (Bonebreaker Trilogy Book 1)


  KING OF BONES

  BONEBREAKER TRILOGY BOOK 1

  PAUL SATING

  CONTENTS

  Free Paul Sating Fantasy

  1. Gaeron

  2. Gaeron

  3. Gaeron

  4. Chali

  5. Nevilan

  6. Gaeron

  7. Nevilan

  8. Chali

  9. Chali

  10. Gaeron

  11. Nevilan

  12. Gaeron

  13. Chali

  14. Nevilan

  15. Gaeron

  16. Chali

  17. Gaeron

  Can The Undead Die?

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  Also By Paul Sating

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Contact Paul

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any situations or similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2021 Paul Sating.

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Editor: Cindy Niespodzianski

  Cover Design: Cover art © Vivid Covers | www.VividCovers.com

  ISBN-13: 979-8-9857203-3-4

  FREE PAUL SATING FANTASY

  Scott McMillan, thank you for allowing me to stalk your Facebook feed and learn more about the true history of humankind than I ever wanted to know! We will campaign one day!

  1

  GAERON

  "It's not as high as the last time she sent us here," Drulf said, shading his eyes with a free hand and looking skyward.

  "True. But it will still be a miserable day for the Bound Boys." Gaeron slapped his leg with the twitch, used to control sadeons. He held the device for the young boy assigned the duty of driving the small sadeon pulling a cart of tools to the planting field. Chit, the Bound Boy, had grown bored, and the animal, still in training itself, was distracted without the lead of its human master. Gaeron had taken the twitch and the lead to get the animal back under control.

  "The heat toughens them," Chali Danos said from Gaeron's other side.

  Gaeron squinted with a playful sneer at the Chaos Bender, the most powerful mage in Olma-Ka. "Again, why are you accompanying us? I know we haven't been Freed for long, but considering the task, I think we can accomplish it without the help of a Freed woman."

  "Your Mark is still healing," Chali said, her lips crooking in a smile she failed to suppress. "So, does anyone really consider you Freed yet? It's barely scabbed, isn't that the truth?"

  Chali enjoyed teasing both him and Drulf even now that both had joined the ranks of Olmarian Freed men.

  When he didn't bite, she puffed out her cheeks, allowing her thick lips to flap. "Fine. Gaeron One-Mark Andel, have it your way." A devilish expression flashed across her smooth features. "The truth is, the Paramount doesn't trust your abilities."

  Gaeron waited, but nothing more followed. "Didn't trust our abilities to do what?"

  "To lead."

  Drulf stumbled. "Seriously, Chali?"

  "Do I look like I'm in the joking mood, Drulf Bural? I'm quite serious."

  Drulf's lips extended as if he was whistling, just without sound. "But… we… where did we go wrong? Was it that time we tied Onvir to the waypole? That was a joke, I swear. Mostly Gaeron's idea."

  "Wow," Gaeron said. "You gave me up before she even asked for a name."

  "She would have, and probably would have tortured us to get the information."

  "What makes you think I would ever lower myself to use torture?" Chali no longer bothered to hide her humor. "Plus, that's an insult to my skills with bending Chaos."

  "No one is questioning your ability or need to torture," Gaeron said, giving the empty air an idle snap of his twitch. "For as long as I remember, you've been torturing me. But no, why are you supervising us? Were you being serious? The Paramount truly doesn't trust us to watch over a handful of Bound Boys harvesting?"

  "Why would she?"

  "Have we ever disappointed her?"

  The twinkle of trouble sparkled in Chali's eyes. "When have you not, Bonebreaker?"

  Drulf said, "You're just messing around with us. I'm sure of it."

  Chali spread her arms. "Yet, here I stand. Come on, Drulf. Don't tell me hanging around Gaeron has wiped away the brains the gods gave you."

  A hesitant silence passed. They'd excelled in the moon cycles since playing an important part in liberating the village from Gaeron's brother after he conquered it and named himself its first male Paramount. Even before, they had succeeded in each of their missions. Missions into the Dark Sands. Missions to the Bay of Bones. Missions in the city of the Walled Ones. They had never not done exactly what the Paramount wanted or the Olmarian people needed.

  As a result, the Paramount declared they would be Freed. The entire village, still shocked by Nevilan's crimes against them, witnessed his Freeing. Alongside Drulf, the pair shed the metal band restricting their cocks and their previous status as Bound Boys. They were Freed men.

  But since then, the missions stopped. Not just for the two, but for all. The Paramount invested all resources in accelerating the trench and stockade project encircling Olma-Ka. No more raids on the Steelborn caravans. No more missions into cities beyond the desert. Even the patrols to ensure bands of Scorpion Riders weren't lurking in the desert, searching for victims to rob, had stopped. Every ounce of Olmarian effort, every drop of their communal sweat, went to expanding the trench so they could begin work on the stockade wall. The Paramount excused no one from the mundane duties of ensuring the village was never again susceptible to what Nevilan had put them through.

  Gaeron understood all that. Even though he wasn't excited about supervising agricultural tasks when he could lug around half a wall section by himself, he would do whatever Nydera Alethero needed of him. He was blood in the sand, the type of person who dedicated themself to sacrificing for others before their own interests, and would always follow his Paramount.

  Determined that Chali was screwing with them, he tapped Drulf on the arm and said, "She misses us, since she's always busy with the old hags."

  "Old hags, are they?" Chali put her hands on her slender hips. "Should I tell them this, or are you brave enough to tell them yourself now that you're Freed? I wonder what those who have been Freed since your mother was wiping your ass would say about your opinion. What do you think, Drulf?"

  "I'm staying out of it… well, as long as you were just joking about the Paramount."

  Her hands slipped from her waist, slapping against her legs. "Drulf, you have got to get better at reading women or no one will ever take you to the Bed of Petals."

  "Pffft, I've got plenty of interested women."

  "Who?" Gaeron said at the same time as Chali.

  "I'm not telling. But I will say this, some of them are even warriors."

  "Well, if being Olma-Ka's only paladin doesn't work for you, think about becoming a bard. You're a magnificent storyteller." Chali nudged Gaeron with an elbow. When he didn't respond, she said, "Hey?"

  Chali's words hung on the periphery. Something moved in the distance. He didn't have to ask if they were armed. That was a given. Olmarians, especially the Freed, bore arms at all times.

  "Skinless," he whispered.

  Chali's hand slapped against her side. As a Chaos Bender, she couldn't draw an edged weapon. Even if she could, weapons weren't her greatest threat. Her magic was. Still, far from the village and with only the three of them in the entire detail being experienced fighters, she might have to call on her whip.

  Drulf wore his shortsword.

  "Where?" Chali asked, stepping beside him.

  The big Buk Toh was there too. "I don't see anything, Gaeron."

  Gaeron pointed west, beyond the planting fields, off where the desert rolled, rose and sank, toward the Sweet Waters River.

  Drulf craned his neck forward. "Nope. Still nothing."

  "You're blind."

  "We need to call in the Bound Boys," Chali said, her voice flat, free of the levity of moments before.

  "Chit," Gaeron called out, waving the boy over.

  At fifteen, Chit should be closer to becoming Freed, but he was too lazy. Gaeron doubted he ever would become Freed. A true shame, considering how gifted the boy was. That laziness showed on his face as he approached, taking too long to do so.

  "What?"

  Gaeron's knuckles cracked as he balled his fist. "Gather the Bound Boys and take them back into the village."

  "Why?"

  "Do it," Chali said, stepping forward.

  Chit glanced at the Freed woman, nodded slowly, and turned.

  Before he called to the crew, Gaeron grabbed his shoulder more roughly than required, but enough to knock the boy's attitude down. "And do so quietly. Unless this field is where you want to die. Skinless come. Tell the Paramount."

  The shocked face he wore was enough to tell Gaeron he'd gotten the Bound Boy's attention. Gaeron pushed past him, striding into the field. Chali and Drulf flanked him as they moved through the mature crop.

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  "How many did you see?" Chali asked.

  "Couldn't tell. More than one, less than a squad," Gaeron said.

  "Ah, so, there's no guarantee we'll die before the midday meal," Drulf said with forced joviality.

  "I've seen you fight. You still might." Gaeron pulled his sword free, ready in case the Skinless he'd spotted were an advance party for a larger force hidden in the tall wheat.

  West of the fields, exposed in the open desert, the three approached warily. Gaeron glanced back toward Olma-Ka. No one sprinting from tent to tent. No shouts from the southwest watchtower, carrying to the other towers encircling the village. It was another normal day in the lives of nearly half a thousand Olmarians.

  Gaeron growled.

  "He'll do what he's supposed to," Chali said, not unkindly. "Chit's lazy but not stupid."

  "We'll see." They paused below the crest of a dune. Gaeron looked south to the grazing fields. A small flock of sheep formed a tight circle on the far edge. Whoever tended them was out of sight, probably asleep in the grass, oblivious to the threat not too far away. Looking at Chali, he asked, "They should be on the other side of this rise. Do you want to hang back?"

  "You only saw a handful, right?"

  "Yes. But I could be wrong."

  "I'm not taking chances."

  "Why are they here again?" Drulf said, not really asking. "We haven't seen them since…"

  "Since the Dark Sands," Chali finished.

  Gaeron squeezed the grip of his sword. "I had hoped to never see them again."

  "Aye, Bonebreaker. Me too." Chali closed her eyes as if sensing something in the air. "But we all knew our business with them didn't end the day they stopped chasing us. It didn't stop when Nydera took an army of our people into the Black Palace, only to come home with a handful of survivors." Her shoulders slumped. "We may never finish this business with the Skinless."

  Gaeron hefted his sword. "Let's put an end to this party, then. What do you say?"

  Chali already held her whip, coiled and ready to unleash. "I've been wondering if Chit's laziness has been rubbing off on you. Let's go. Carefully."

  "Shouldn't you prepare something?" Drulf asked her.

  "Like what?"

  "A spell of some sort."

  Chali cocked her head. "You doubt me so, Buk Toh. What makes you think I haven't?"

  He looked away, toward the crest of the dune and the unseen enemy beyond. "Sorry, Chali. I'm just nervous. I don't like being this far away from the village if there really are more of them. Just us and some Skinless. Not an enticing prospect."

  "We went into the Dark Sands and fought them three times. Fought a golem. Got chased by an army of Skinless. I'm sure we can handle a lost party of bones." Gaeron crouched and moved up the dune. He stopped when he sensed neither of the pair following. "Are you coming?"

  "We thought the bloodlust filled you. I wanted to see how that was going to end," Chali said with a quiet laugh that somehow still sounded like a bird's song.

  "Likely with him on the wrong end of a bone spear," Drulf snorted and crept up the dune beside Gaeron.

  Chali joined, and the three peeked over the crest.

  Below, five Skinless advanced to the two dunes, half a mile apart. Two of the five remained in the middle of the shallow valley, acting as runners. Bone jaws fell open and snapped shut as if the skeletons were talking to one another. Over the distance, any messages the skeletons shared failed to reach the human's ears.

  One of the pair of central skeletons gestured to the dune to the south, a bony finger extended, bent as if it had been broken in life. The skeleton on that dune waved with crossed daggers in the air, a clear signal. The skeleton on the northern dune copied the gesture. The two on the periphery slunk down the dunes, toward Olma-Ka.

  Gaeron started to come out of his crouch, ready to take the one to the north. Chali's firm hand stopped him. "No. Wait."

  "Why?"

  "They're just scouts."

  "How do you know?" Drulf asked.

  Chali tipped the handle of her whip toward the one directing the group. "Would you leave your leader as an easy target, like they're doing? There are no reinforcements. We kill that one and the party will scramble."

  "Others could be hiding behind that." Gaeron tipped the flat of his hand at the rolling dunes further west, hiding the slope of desert slanting toward the Sweet Waters River.

  "And we'll have killed him by the time they reach us. The distance is too great. No." Chali tipped the whip again. "That's a scouting party. No doubt."

  "Then we need to make sure they don't return word of our defenses to whoever sent them," Gaeron said.

  "We know where they came from." Drulf pushed the tip of his blade into the sand, lifting a knee, readying to charge at Chali's command.

  "Let's see if we can make quick work of them, and then get back to the village to inform Nydera." Chali bounced on her toes. "Let's move to the northern dune and push them south. Worst case, we'll have to chase them as far toward the Bay of Bones as we can before we have to return."

  "Well then, let's destroy them before we have to worry about that," Gaeron said.

  Chali tipped her head and moved down the dune, using it for cover. They could make it most of the way to the northern dune behind this obstacle. As long as the skeletons hadn't pushed too far forward, the three would remain out of sight.

  When they reached the channel between dunes, Chali dropped to her stomach, waving around her back with a sharp swatting motion. Gaeron and Drulf collapsed. The sand was warm under the rays of the sun.

  "What is it?" Gaeron asked.

  "The bastard is standing atop the dune," Chali said, rolling over. Bloodlust heated her usually smooth, calming tone. "With the high sun, that thing will see us coming."

  "We could attempt to backtrack and come at it from its back," Drulf said.

  She shook her head. "That'll take too long and they could move by the time we got into position. We can't wait. We'll have to come at it from here."

  "Best to split up," Gaeron said.

  "Agreed." Chali nodded. "We come at it from three sides, but stay within each other's line of sight."

  "I'll take the center, draw its attention," Gaeron said, starting to stand.

  "And get all the glory again? No need to get yourself killed for the hope of gaining more glory." Chali spoke every word of the taunt with the flavor of a sharp-but-friendly tongue. She had a way of teasing that kept Gaeron cognizant of his behaviors. Masked as it was, she had a reason for the way she spoke. Women were mysterious.

  "I'll worry about glory when the Marks on my forehead look like yours," he teased in return, tilting his blade at her scarred forehead, where her otherwise flawless brown skin was separated from her thick hairline by eleven raised scars of the Mark. Eleven times, the Paramount had carved those two thin lines, crossed at their apexes, into Chali's skin. Eleven times, the Chaos Bender had been recognized for killing an important enemy of the Olmarian people. All deserved.

  Her grin fled from her face. "Gaeron, you're a Freed man. One-Mark or Fifteen-Marks like your mother, it matters not. You're highly regarded by everyone in Olma-Ka."

  Gaeron looked away. She wouldn't understand. Nevilan wasn't her brother. His actions hadn't brought shame to Chali's family name. As long as Nevilan lived, so did Gaeron's shame. Being One-Marked couldn't wash that away. Nothing would remove the stain on the Andel legacy until he bore a Mark signifying his brother's death.

  Drulf seemed to sense the awkward turn in the tone. He slapped Gaeron on the shoulder. "Let me take the center. I'm fat and out of shape. No way I'm running all the way around the dune to distract it from the side."

  "And if it injures you?" Chali asked.

  "What if it injures you?" Drulf said, his pale skin, Buk Toh skin, flushed at his own brashness. "I mean, what if you fall, Chali? At some point, that thing is going to warn the others, and I imagine we'll need your Chaos magic to hold them off until Gaeron and I… well, until Gaeron can take care of the rest."

 

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