The Queen's Assassin

The Queen's Assassin

The Queen’s Assassin

Copyright © William King 2007

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Website: www.williamking.me

Cover: Copyright © Jan Patrik Krasny.

Website: www.krasnyart.eu

Editing: Angela King

Website: www.freelancecopyeditor.co.uk

Chapter One

The city of Halim burned. Flames leapt from the red-tiled roofs. Drifting clouds of black smoke obscured the ancient walls.

The rolling thunder of cannon-fire assaulted Rik's ears as the guns pounded away at the capital of the nation of Kharadrea. One of the disadvantages of his privileged position on this hillside overlooking the doomed metropolis was its proximity to the batteries of huge siege weapons.

He was a tall, slim, fair-haired man. The fine scarlet tunic he wore emphasised the Terrarch half of his heritage, making him look every inch one of his world's inhuman rulers, leaving no trace of the grubby street urchin he once had been. He stroked the pommel of his sword as he watched the fortifications crumble, glad for the moment that he did not have to be down there, preparing to enter the inferno of battle that was so soon to come.

Rik shielded his large almond-shaped eyes with the long fingers of one hand, and squinted down. The trampled fields around the city seethed with soldiers in the red uniforms of Talorea. Massed regiments of infantry hunkered down amid a labyrinth of trenches, waiting to attack. Squadrons of cavalry grouped to their rear. Monstrous bridgeback wyrms, reptilian quadrupeds as large as a house, bellowed challenges as they made their way towards the front-line. Their long necks snaked skyward. Troops filled the howdahs on their backs. The defenders lining the wall responded with obscenities and defiance.

Near where Rik stood, in the cleared area between two batteries of siege guns, groups of sorcerers performed arcane rituals, warding the troops below from hostile magic and directing their own spells at the enemy. All of them were Terrarchs, taller and thinner than humans, with beautiful high cheek-boned faces and hair fine as spun silver. Their ears were pointed and their eyes almond-shaped and huge. Their lips were thin and cruel, and all of them had the arrogance of the undisputed lords of creation. They were God's Chosen, and they felt it to the marrow of their bones.

Among them, standing alone and nearest to him, was the Terrarch noblewoman responsible for Rik's rise from the gutter to the outer reaches of Talorean society: the Lady Asea. Today she was garbed for battle. Magical armour clung to her tall, spare figure. A silver mask with a dark gem in the centre covered the upper half of her lovely face. Her long thick silver hair was braided and held by a clasp at her neck. In her hand she held a ritual wand, used to bind and guide the creatures she would soon summon. Tall urns stood within a circle of strange runes laid out in multi-coloured salts. Each contained a bound elemental.

Rik envied Asea her power and her confidence. For months now, all through the long summer of campaigning, she had been teaching him the rudiments of magic, but he was a long way from even the beginnings of mastery. Despite his best efforts he could get not even the simplest spell to work.