Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Free eBook

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  Characters

  Exclusive

  Did you enjoy this book?

  About the Author

  Ties of Destiny

  Curse of the Crown Book 1

  Caitlin Taylor

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Ties of Destiny: Book 1 in the Curse of the Crown series © 2018 Caitlin Taylor.

  All rights reserved.

  CaitlinTaylorBook.com

  Cover design by Dee Aditya at Decorous Anarchy Studios

  Editing by Pam Ebler at Undivided Editing

  Free eBook

  Get a free and exclusive eBook from the Curse of the Crown series

  Join my newsletter to stay up to date on newest releases and special offers and I’ll send you Chains of Punishment, the prequel to Ties of Destiny for free. Sign up here

  Acknowledgements

  My first ever officially, fully published novel! I’m excited beyond what words can express to be here.

  It has been a long journey and too many have joined me along the way to mention everyone. Yet, I’m grateful for every person that’s been part of this amazing venture to any extent.

  Special mentions go to:

  Lise and Jo – thank you for the memories!

  Monika and Marina – thank you for the support, the talks, the cries and the fun!

  Lucie – thank you for the miracles!

  To Mary and my PSG peers, without you, I may never have been brave enough to follow my heart. Thank you!

  To Ieliena and Francesca, my musketeers, thank you!

  To my beta readers, fellow writers and early cheerleaders:

  Wulfy – you’ve taught me so much and played an enormous role in making this book happen. Thank you for everything!

  Panther – you believed in me, Jeffrey and Akoni when I faltered, thank you for your unwavering support!

  Helke – thank you for your help and feedback (and the physics lesson *lol*)!

  Gwynn, thank you for your honesty!

  Pam – thank you for helping me make this story so much better!

  Dee – thank you for an amazingly beautiful cover!

  Last but so not least, to my family; thank you for always being there for me and making me the person I am, I love you all!

  Prologue

  Blade caught blade with the screech of metal, a sword nearly flung out of its owner’s grip, a few paces of ground gained. The counterattack followed without delay, a full-strength strike that had Akoni throwing his whole body into weathering it. As the blades raked against each other, Akoni twisted his sword down the length of the other. He came up under his opponent’s guard, startling him into defence, gaining another step of the ground.

  “Well done,” the marshal said, a smile half-hidden behind his black beard. He shifted his stance and raised his sword again.

  Akoni couldn’t stop his grin from forming.

  The next attack came, a ringing sequence of strokes, forcing him to parry fast. His blade shook in his grip, the clash knocking it out of the way. The pommel of a sword met his stomach. He doubled over, gasping. As he tried to right himself, the marshal’s enormous bulk slammed into him, shoulder first, and he went sprawling onto his back.

  “You still expect a fair fight when fighting is rarely fair.”

  “Is that today’s lesson? Maybe I’ll use poison tomorrow.” A smirk graced Akoni’s lips, his blue eyes flashing with mischief. He took the offered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.

  The marshal laughed, a booming sound that echoed in the bare training courtyard. “Maybe that’s what you should be doing. But do keep practising with other weapons, it would be a shame to waste all my efforts. Especially now they are showing fruition. Your footwork is improving consistently and you’re getting better at feinting.”

  “Must be some use to this constant training.” Akoni brushed off the dirt clinging to his clothes.

  “Not nearly constant enough by my standards.”

  “Hmm, how are the new recruits turning out?”

  “About as poor as they usually are. Most have never held a weapon, other than a pitchfork or shovel. Some show promise, though.”

  “Some seemed to be doing pretty well when I walked past.” He recalled a particular blond who seemed to be dancing with his blade.

  The marshal snorted. “Doing well as in not killing themselves? Yeah, they are fairly good at that, which is a surprise in itself. It’ll take work, but I’ll get them cleaned up in the end.”

  “Anyone that may be able to go on guard duty? Dino isn’t likely to last much longer.”

  “Really? Again? He’s only been assigned to you a few days,” the marshal’s voice sounded strained with exasperation.

  “He’s a buffoon.”

  “Are you giving him reason to be one?”

  “Do I ever.” Akoni snorted.

  The marshal sighed. “I’ll look for a replacement, give me a few days if you can. I don’t think any of the new men are suitable, you’d intimidate them into being even more incapable than they already are.”

  “How could I possibly intimidate anyone,” Akoni said in an exaggerated voice and winked.

  “Well, aside from being the Crown Prince and heir to the throne, you’re also much too irritable around most people.”

  “Aren’t you lucky you’re not most people. I might have others hanged for saying that.”

  “Proving my point exactly, Your Highness.” The marshal grinned and mock bowed.

  Akoni laughed and shook his head as he turned to leave.

  ***

  Leaving his quarters, Akoni found Dino standing to attention beside the door and proceeded to walk down the hall. He noticed the silence after only a few steps and halted, clenching his jaw at the lack of footsteps following. Spinning around, Akoni glared as Dino still stood rooted to the spot.

  On closer inspection, Dino’s eyes were closed. Clenching his fists, Akoni got ready to strike—hard. He thought better of it and quietly drew Dino’s sword from its sheath. The man didn’t so much as stir. With one hand he held the raised blade, with the other he pushed against Dino’s shoulder. Dino jerked upright, his eyelids snapping wide, sword edge pressed against his throat.

  “If you ever fall asleep on duty again, I will not guarantee my hand may not slip,” Akoni said, his voice cold. In case any doubt behind the meaning of his words remained, he scraped the metal against Dino’s neck, cutting the skin enough to draw blood.

  “Yes, Your Highness. Forgive me.”

  “Useless. Do you think anyone cares?”

  “Your Highness,” Dino trembled, his body tense, leaning back to avoid the blade. “Please.”

  Akoni dropp
ed the sword to the floor and walked away. He heard the rustling of clothes as Dino scrambled to pick up the blade and follow him. “You better have that weapon sheathed before I turn around again.” The footsteps paused, the swoosh of a sword being sheathed followed by hurried footfall trying to catch up again. Akoni’s outer calm could hardly hide the anger coursing through him.

  ***

  The sun sat low in the sky, painting it in shades of orange and pink as Akoni returned to the training grounds. He marched straight to the marshal’s office and found it empty. Pausing at the window, he watched the recruits. The marshal had not exaggerated, their condition was poor. Except for one. The blond he’d noticed before was still practising with the others.

  Hidden behind the window and its frame, Akoni could watch without being noticed, wishing to keep his interest quiet, at least for the time being. The blond had clearly been a fighter for a long time. His body toned, his arms strong, his legs agile, and his mind focused on the task at hand. What Akoni had only seen briefly before, did not give him a false impression. The strikes were accurate and powerful, they also held a certain grace to them. Akoni smiled, enjoying the show much more than he had expected.

  The longer he stood watching, the more he felt it. It had been too brief before but now that he could take his time, he felt the thrumming inside him. His magic, always lying quiet and useless, began stirring. Staring at his hand, it seemed as if he could see the magic within. It felt both disconcerting and exhilarating in equal measures. He had never felt anything like it and didn’t know what to make of it, what it meant.

  After some time, the recruits paused for a break. Most gathered in groups to talk, some went for water, others sat or laid down catching their breath. The blond walked over to the water fountain, quenching his thirst. He stood by himself, almost as though he wanted to avoid talking to anyone. Or maybe it was the others staying away from him. Akoni noticed some of the recruits kept glancing at the blond, never for long and always done in a way the blond wouldn’t likely see it himself.

  The marshal called them to order, standing out among the men. Tall and bulky, he towered over most recruits, his black hair streaked with grey. He was dressed in full regalia: a cobalt blue tunic, reaching to just above the knees and revealing tanned thighs underneath, a layer of leather strips dangling from the black leather chestguard, which had the King’s sigil etched on in blue, bracers and greaves also made of black leather, a blue cape fastened with a gold pin. The cape, with a gold trim, indicating the marshal’s rank also had the crown and crossed swords stitched upon it in gold, the symbol of the Crownsguard. The man made a striking figure, not lessened in the least by his age.

  Even though Akoni couldn’t hear the marshal’s words, he could guess their meaning. They had much work to do yet.

  The group formed a circle as two men entered into the centre; the first the blond Akoni had been watching, the other a brunet man, big and heavily muscled. Both wore typical armour for trainees; a simple tunic over it a basic leather chestguard, with leather strips forming a skirt to protect their thighs and sandals that tied to just below their knees. Their arms were bare, as were much of their legs, showing off tanned skin. A sight Akoni always found enticing.

  He watched with fascination as the blond prepared to spar, his wooden sword resting easily in his right hand, a plain, wooden round shield strapped to his left. The dark-haired man took the offence, rushing forward with an attack. The blond stepped to the side and managed a strike at the brunet’s ribcage; not a major blow but a start. Again and again, the blond sidestepped or evaded the larger man’s advances. He’d strike at him only enough to keep him moving.

  In terms of sheer power, the brunet should be the victor, but the blond danced around the other man, agile on his feet and with an intelligent wit to his counter attacks. Using the speed his lithe frame offered, he tried to tire his stronger opponent out, until it left him an opening. When it came, he made use of it with a devastating blow.

  The brunet stumbled backwards stunned, leaving him momentarily defenceless. The blond used this new opportunity. Swinging his sword in a wide arc, he managed to land another heavy strike, bringing his wooden blade down fast against the man’s shoulder. The resulting blow seemed deafening. The brunet’s weapon dropped to the floor and the blond moved in closer, his blade tip pointed at the other man’s neck. In a gesture of surrender, the brunet dropped his shield.

  Akoni grinned at the outcome of the fight, not surprised by it in the least.

  The door flew open and the heavy steps of the marshal filled the room. Akoni schooled his features into feigned carelessness and continued to gaze out the window.

  “Your Highness, my apologies. I’ve only just been informed that you are here. Is there anything I—”

  “The men fighting down there, who are they?”

  The marshal stepped closer to the window. “That’s Matthew with the brown hair. The blond is Jeffrey. Both have been soldiers in the legion for a number of years. Why do you ask?”

  “Matthew is disastrously bad, expecting to conquer all with brute force. How he managed to survive this long is a true feat. Jeffrey seems a decent fighter. I want him on my guard, starting tomorrow.”

  “Your Highness, I cannot recommend Jeffrey for this task.” The marshal spoke insistently, his voice urgent. “He may be a good fighter, but he is not able to follow orders. Not to the extent required by your guardsmen.”

  “How intriguing,” Akoni said with one eyebrow raised.

  “He’s also not familiar with royal protocols, the palace customs, or any related civility demanded of your guard.”

  “I suggest you find a way to get him up to speed.”

  “What about Dino?”

  Akoni’s fists clenched. “He was asleep on duty this morning.”

  The marshal groaned and pressed thumb and index finger against his eyes. “I’m sorry, Akoni.”

  A large hand reached for Akoni, paused and came to rest on his shoulder. Akoni allowed it, welcomed it even. “Word will get out. He will need to be punished,” Akoni said, his voice heavy. He avoided the marshal’s eyes.

  “It will need to be public enough. Will you want to be there?”

  “No, but it’ll need to be known to be on my orders.”

  “I’ll see to it.” The marshal hesitated and sighed. “Must it be Jeffrey?”

  “Yes. If you need to continue his training, find a way. A three-shift rota if needed. But not for long.” His firm voice allowed no argument.

  Chapter 1

  Jeffrey had been training with Matthew when he received a summons to the marshal’s office. He wondered what it meant, not expecting it to be favourable, though certain he hadn’t done anything wrong. Knocking on the doorframe, he tried to be prepared for anything.

  “Sir, you asked to see me.” He poked his head in through the half-open door.

  “Come in.” A wave of the marshal’s hand accompanied his words.

  Jeffrey entered and closed the door. His gaze swept the room, the wall across from the door dominated by an enormous map of the Sycanian Empire, bordered by seas on all sides. A section of Livanora visible in the east, beyond the great uncrossable ocean. Flags and pins in different shapes and sizes marked various locations throughout. The biggest flag—blue with a gold border and a golden crown—marking the capital, Corunia, in the centre. The unification of the lands, under Adriano the Conqueror hundreds of years ago, had brought a lasting peace and prosperity.

  That was until ships landed on their eastern beaches and men came to lay waste to their lands, raiding villages and killing indiscriminately. How they had crossed the oceans intact, survived the whirlwinds and the waves as tall as mountains, been unharmed by the Goddess’s guards, gigantic creatures destroying any ships entering her territory, no one could say. But they had come, and it had taken everything to beat them back that first time. More ships came, sometimes weeks, sometimes months apart, but they always came again. Now the eastern region
s were the most fortified part of the land, the only truly fortified part. Forts stood so close together, soldiers stood atop their towers could almost wave at each other. But it had been more than four years now since the last Livanoran ship landed. Some thought they were beaten this time and would not return. Most knew it would only be a matter of time.

  The marshal’s desk stood in the centre of the room, behind it ceiling to floor shelves with model cars and trains in all shapes and sizes, representing much of their technological advancements, from machines to electricity. Since the unification, exploration and trade had flourished and they’d discovered a mineral, a type of crystal, that had started a chain of events leading to incredible technological development. Life had become easier and the population had expanded enormously, even feeding the growing population had become easier.

  The marshal sat back in his chair, his large frame dwarfing the table in front of him. Jeffrey straightened up, clasping his hands behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. His attention posed on the wall behind the marshal, as he presented himself in front of the man’s desk. Silence stretched on as the marshal’s brown-eyed gaze raked over Jeffrey.

  “Why are you here, Jeffrey?”

  “Sir?” Jeffrey’s brow furrowed.

  “What brought you to Corunia? There’s no fighting anywhere near the city, or in fact, in any part of the midlands.”

  “My former commander reassigned me here, Sir.”

  “And you could have declined the transfer. Why are you here?” The marshal’s voice rang hard but also held a note of curiosity, his calm face impossible to read.

  “I’m told there’s an elite force being trained in the capital, Sir.”

  The marshal paused, his gaze moving to the papers on his desk. “You’ve been a soldier for many years. Your record makes for a concerning read.”