The Messengers of Yesh Web Address

Friday, January 30, 2015

Sequel Preview

It took longer for the test reader paperbacks to ship to me than I was hoping. They arrived yesterday. What had to be mailed out is mailed, except for someone I haven't heard back from. The next step is to wait on feedback and read through it again myself. Hopefully, nothing but minor changes will have to be made. The cover still needs to be done. Once all that's finished, it'll be out the door. I'd planned to have it out in December or this month at the latest, but life didn't work out according to my schedule.

Here's a preview of the prologue and a bit of chapter 1. The working title is The Rise of Aethan Lightbringer, but that might change. It's copyright 2015 by me, blah blah, legalese.

Prologue

Mid-Summer 835 A.F

Overcommander Rameze prostrated before his deity and the self-proclaimed deity of the B'vellah Empire, Prince Sydeke. Technically, his divinity would not begin until the official ceremony empowering him to become Emperor Sydeke. That he was one of four competing brothers bothered Rameze not at all.
    The prince had granted Rameze's request to move the audience to a smaller, informal and more private throne room than the imperial throne room. No Councilors were in attendance. Imperial guards watched from the opposite end of the room. Prince Sydeke raised the royal scepter signaling favor.
    “Rise, Rameze.”
    “Your Imperial Majesty.”
    Sydeke ignored the future title. “Have you uncovered what went wrong in Kilkis?”
    “Yes, your Majesty. Our assassins altered the plan at the last moment and tried to capture the king of Yesh for reasons unknown. Right before translocation, Yeshian Messengers arrived and severed the dominion. Facing a numerically superior force and a Great Healer, the nephilim attempted retreat. Because of a change in enemy tactics, only Domnint Kusbakt succeeded. The rest were defeated. Kusbakt went to Kilkis and then Ammu. My guess is that one of the Messengers possessed the dominion of hunting.”
    Sydeke frowned skepticism. “Rameze?”
    Rameze prostrated himself. “Some of them had to be from the past, O Majesty. I know it's impossible, but events can't be explained otherwise. No one has the dominion of hunting. Even King Dakhil was deficient.”
    “Rise. This is known through spies. Colors don't lie. Some of them were from the past. Tell me the rest,” Sydeke commanded.
    “But-”
    “Reality doesn't diminish my impending deity, Rameze. We accept this new reality and proceed from that point. However, reality does not leave this room.”
    “Yes, your Majesty.” Rameze bowed. Traveling from one now to another now was considered to be non-truth by the throne. “After the battle one of the Messengers seems to have sent a powerful weapon like those described in the mythology of the Yesh-Marhel War to Kilkis. Everything in the area where Kusbakt translocated was completely destroyed by a great heat, including King Dakhil's castle. It started many fires. Much of the city burned to the ground. They built heavily with wood. Primitive Derdlanite building practices will-”
    “The Province of Derdlan will be civilized in the course of time,” Sydeke interrupted.
    “Yes, your Majesty. Over half of the Supreme Council was in the castle in Kilkis, when-”
    “New positions will be granted by year's end. The political continuity of the Supreme Council is assured. The military leadership lost will be harder to replace. You and Domnint Kusbakt will work together on a better report than the one he's given. I want to know who led the battle in the throne room in Selah, how it was coordinated, who fought with whom...” Sydeke frowned. “Rameze?”
    “A thousand generations of pardons, your Majesty. Kusbakt was found dead. He may have been killed by other nephilim for some reason of their own.”
    “That fool! He's our only witness!”
    “Yes, your Majesty, but I can state with some assurance that the one called Joseph the Merciful led the battle. From Kusbakt's description of events, the logical-”
    “Capture him alive. I want to know what weapon he used in Kilkis and what weapon was used against King Dakhil's army in Yesh,” the prince ordered. “Capture them all.”
    Rameze flicked his tongue between his lips. “I don't think that will be possible.”
    “For me nothing is impossible, Rameze!”
    The Overcommander prostrated.
    “Stop that! Rise and speak!”
    “The Messengers are leaving Yesh just as the histories describe. The Yeshians are on alert for nephilim. We could perhaps send ordinary domnints in, but in my opinion there's simply not enough time to put an effective plan into effect. During the recent war, we made several assassination attempts in Selah itself. Our best effort saw Kayley the Beautiful practically raise herself from the dead. These Messengers are skilled foes. By the time something successful can be executed, they'll be gone.”
    “Is that your honest assessment?” Sydeke inquired.
    “Yes, your Majesty. They've all left Selah and scattered to the winds. According to my best reports, they'll be gone within days.”
    “Very well. You will repeat nothing discussed here today. Dismissed.”
    “Yes, your Majesty!” Rameze prostrated himself and departed. Sydeke's willingness to embrace non-truth had been most refreshing. Perhaps this boded well for the future of the Empire.
* * *
    Prince Sydeke translocated to the throne room.
    “Summon Domnint Rahim,” he ordered, and a sycophant rushed to obey. When at last Rahim appeared, Sydeke created a working to ensure privacy.
    “Rise.”
    “What is your desire, Majesty?”
  “Overcommander Rameze has defied me in his heart. Make room for a new Overcommander.”
    Rahim bowed. “How should it look?”
    “Send a message about the reward for those who learn the art of impossibility.”
    “It will be done.”

 
Chapter 1

Autumn 835 A.F.

Marion finished the last of his water as the debate in the conferring room rolled off the walls around him.
    “This is our best chance for peace and security!” King Afton thundered, shaking the diplomatic correspondence for emphasis. Crimson mottled the king of Yesh's face.
    “A false peace,” General Dan said. “Emperor Shiraz may be dead, but Emperor Sydeke didn't fall far from the tree.”
    “Are you calling the man a liar?”
    Dan shrugged. “The prophecies of High Priest Edelhard reveal the truth. Master Meredith the Discerner herself-”
    “No!” Afton interjected. “Two-thirds of the empire's political leadership is dead and much of their high-ranking military hierarchy. It'll take years, if not decades, for them to recover from such a blow!”
    “Easten,” Joseph the Merciful said.
    Afton's expression twisted. Emperor Sydeke's first act upon formally ascending the throne had been to annex Easten to the empire. The loss of their primary port on the Great River had enraged Marhel but left them no recourse other than to accept the development as gracefully as possible. The B'vellah Empire was rumored to have over a million men under arms in the army alone.
    “Marhel's weak!” Genia asserted, dark curls bouncing emphatically. “Queen Tegan lacks the stomach to fight.”
    Marion glanced at her while waiting to see if the outburst would be tolerated. Lady Genia's position among the royalty of the nation of Derdlan had been swept away during the summer after Derdlan's destruction by a surprise, B'vellan invasion. Today she was a military adviser attached to General Dan's staff.
    “Tegan shows wisdom not weakness.” Afton rustled the correspondence. “I have peace in my hand. All we have to do is accept.”
    “Making decisions out of fear isn't the Way,” General Dan said. “You should've let me burn B'vel to the ground while they were defenseless.”
    “After such a long drought?” Afton asked. “My army was skin and bones.”
   “We would've made it happen,” Joe said quietly. “With the Creator nothing is impossible.”
    “The prophecies were fulfilled by Derdlan,” Afton said.
    General Trifon shook his head. “It's a double prophecy. Master Meredith-”
    “Enough of her opinions!
   Drem and Kane, King Afton's sons, shifted uneasily. The Creator had preserved Master Meredith through time by the gift of stasis. The council among those privy to her research of the prophecies of High Priest Edeldhard agreed with Dan and Trifon's assessment.
    “Father,...” Drem began.
    “We're going to have peace,” Afton said. “No more war. The drought's over. The season was short but the harvests adequate for the winter.”
    Dan looked into the distance as if hearing an unheard voice. “Very well, your Majesty. In three days I leave Yesh. I'll return in the spring to resume maneuvers with the army.”
    “I appreciate your counsel, General, but for the good of the nation, I have to work for peace.”
    “This won't end well,” Genia said through a dark expression.
* * *
    “Are you following me home?” Marion could have translocated from the castle but wanted to walk, a habit picked up during the Marhelan War when the populace needed the sight of Messengers to give courage.
    “In your dreams,” Genia replied, coming up alongside him. “Why didn't you speak up? Afton listens to you. I'm right about B'vellah. Rumors say Easten won't be the end.”
    Marion frowned. He'd heard whispers of raids in Marhel and even the assassination of a minor lady. That she was Queen Tegan's cousin wasn't lost on him. Within weeks of the event, B'vellah's most accomplished general had been poisoned. Raids into Marhel had stopped. B'vellah's troop movements near the border had not.
    “If he won't listen to Dan,...”
    “I hate this,” Genia said as they exited the front doors of the palace to begin the long walk to the gate. A hardened path curved gently through lush, neatly trimmed grass. “He's making a mistake. What do you know about Prince Kane making an official visit to Marhel?”
   “For real?”
   “Are you mocking me?”
   “Genia, relax.” Marion stopped and touched her arm, trying to give her the peace of the Creator given to Messengers. Sometimes it worked. Other times it didn't.
    She flinched and scowled. “Don't Messenger me.”
    Marion repressed a smile as he remembered the many times he'd been in a similar position. “You need a clearer head.”
    “I need vengeance!”
    “Vengeance belongs to the Creator. What you need is forgiveness.”
    “Easy for a Messenger to say.”
    “True.”
    “Are you leaving with General Dan?”
   Was there a hint of worry in her voice? Marion searched his spirit. “No. Afton's path is rocky.”
   “What does that mean?”
   Marion shrugged. “I'm not sure. There's a time for peace, and a time for war. Afton's B'vellah course lately hasn't been based on trusting.”
   “I see.”
    They paused at the gate, which opened by a spirit working to allow them passage. Guards flanked either side. Genia began a translocation.
    “Where to?”
    “I need some time alone.”
    “You spend too much time alone.”
    “Will you be at Molido later?”
    Marion shrugged. “Maybe.”
    “Then I might see you there.” And she was gone.
   Marion shook his head and continued toward his apartment in a new tallhomes within sight of the palace. If war broke out before Genia came to grips with her bitterness, she wouldn't survive a month.

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