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  Tale of Royals

  By

  H. K. Masara

  Foreword

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Acknowledgments

  Book 1: The two kings

  For Dylan and Naomi who helped me with some of the weirdest ideas and coming up with the names of the books.

  Book 2: The Heir

  For Fiona who helped me with some fascinating ideas for this book. And for Tichaona and Kelvin who gave me encouragement and my mother and siblings for their understanding and support.

  Book One:

  The Two Kings

  ONE

  Martina woke up with a start. Sweat balls fell down her forehead and she breathed heavily. This would make it the third time she had had the same nightmare. She placed a hand over her chest and felt her heart beat furiously. It was only just a bad dream, she had told herself the first time but the more she had the terrible dream the more it became real. Martina reached over for a cup of water and drank it in huge gulps as she thought it would help her calm down. It was still far from dawn and she needed to get back to sleep or else she would wake up sleep deprived. A part of her dreaded having the dream for the fourth time but she lay back and closed her eyes.

  It was a warning; there was no other explanation to its repetition. She sighed as she thought how difficult it was going to be falling asleep again. For how long was she going to keep it a secret? She just wished her fears would not be confirmed. Telling anyone would bring about serious repercussions and consequences. She had lived with this for many years now and knew better than to trust anyone with her secret. She remembered the day as if it were yesterday. It was never to be known who she really was or where she came from. Martina took a deep breath and opened her eyes and closed them. Although it took a while she finally managed to fall asleep.

  It was already light outside by the time she woke up. She went about her chores as usual. Her tiny cabin lay at the edge of the forest near the small town of Essecass. Throughout her chores her mind kept racing back to the nightmare she kept having. She took out all her anxieties and frustrations on cleaning such that by midday her cabin was sparkling clean.

  ‘Martina,’ a voice came from outside.

  ‘Oh Irene, I was not expecting you,’ Martina said.

  Irene looked at Martina in concern. And said, ‘we were supposed to go to the market place together, remember?’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Are you alright Martina?’ Irene asked, ‘you look troubled.’

  ‘I am fine.’

  ‘It’s the nightmare again, is it not?’ Irene asked as she put a caring hand over Martina’s shoulder.

  ‘Let it not matter much.’

  ‘It might help if you tell me what it is about…’

  ‘NO,’ Martina snapped.

  Irene looked at her in surprise. Never had sweet and quiet Martina ever snapped at her before. Martina saw the hurt look on her friends face and sighed. Guilt overcame her and she apologized to her friend, ‘I am sorry Irene. I did not intend to speak harshly to you.’

  Irene sat down and motioned for her to sit next to her. She sat slowly as if not sure about what she was doing.

  ‘Martina, we have been friends for many years but never have you told me about your past. About your past and where you come from I have respected that but…’

  ‘And you still need to respect that,’ she said and took her friends hand into hers, ‘especially when the truth can hurt you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It better stay in the past or someone is going to get hurt.’

  Irene knew better than to argue further. It was evident Martina had no intention of telling her about her past. Everything about her was a secret and Irene could not help wonder why it was so. Martina’s past really had to be horrid from what she gathered. Irene knew her friend meant well but deep down it only aroused her curiosity. Her mind took her nineteen years ago. Irene had been out collecting flowers for her ill father when she met Martina. Martina only just a girl then, looked rugged and sick like she had been travelling from a faraway place. She had taken her home and fed her. Something in Martina’s eyes told her she had been through an ordeal.

  Martina tapped on Irene’s shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry; I let myself get consumed by my thoughts. I have to go,’ Irene said.

  Irene stood up and as she was about to open the door Martina called out to her and said, ‘Irene, thank you. I am honored to have a friend like you.’

  ‘Why do you speak that way?’

  ‘It is nothing.’

  ‘Are you leaving?’

  ‘It can be so.’

  ‘Where will you go? Why? I do not understand,’ Irene expressed in shock.

  ‘One day you will dear friend and you will know why I kept my past a secret,’ she spoke sadly.

  ‘Are you coming back?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  With that Irene left and walked back into town biting back the tears that welled up in her eyes. Over the years the two had become more than just friends but sisters. They had always looked out for each other. Now there was a possibility they would never see each other again. Irene turned and looked at her friend’s cabin which she now saw from a distance and smiled. a soft murmur told her they would meet again however long it would take but they would be reunited.

  Meanwhile in her cabin Martina packed the few possessions and provisions she had stored up into her sack. Amongst these was an old emerald ring which she had not worn for many years. It glowed in the light making the stone a beautiful green. She would wait for sunset before embarking on the journey that would alter the very course of everything. No one had to see her leave or even know she had left. All this hiding had made her paranoid; just as she had come so would she leave. Deep down she had known the time would finally come when her destiny called.

  It was time to go and visit a former ally. Just as it had been foretold one day she would seek out her foe and become allies once more. Although the years had worn out some of the anger and hatred, she still felt agitated. It would be three days walk to the forest of Nathram.

  *********

  Ardoh felt a strange sensation, one that was all too familiar and almost forgotten. He felt it flow through his veins. Only one person made him feel this way. A flash of anger crossed his face and disappeared. How dare she seek him out after everything that was said and done? She was close and he could feel her presence become closer and closer. He sat waiting, prepared for anything but something was wrong. He felt she had grown weak and diminished.

  *********

  Martina sighed as she entered the deepest part of the forest where Ardoh’s fortress lay. She knew he felt her coming because she could also feel his unease and discomfort. Events were starting to unfold themselves and soon the inevitable would come to pass unless they changed it. After a long walk it was almost sun set when she reached her destination. The door opened suddenly and there in the dim light stood Ardoh. He had not changed much. He still kept his white hair short and his skin was never paler. His eyes burned with rage and fury and she knew he was not pleased by her unexpected visit.

  ‘You,’ he spat o
ut.

  ‘Relax Ardoh, I do not wish to start a fight. I am not enjoying this either so I suggest you let me in and hear me out,’ she treaded carefully with her words.

  It would not help her cause angering him all over again. Ardoh allowed her entry reluctantly and shut the door behind them. She sat down on a bench but he still kept his guard and remained standing.

  ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded.

  ‘I need your help,’ she confessed almost indistinctly.

  He looked at her in shock. Never had he expected her to ask such of him.

  ‘I do not trust you,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘I know, I am not asking you to trust me but it is time. It is finally happening…soon,’ she replied.

  ‘You have changed,’ he said, ‘I can feel your weakness…’

  ‘You knew I wasn’t dead.’

  It was more of a statement than a question.

  ‘Unlike many, you do not deceive me Demetris…’

  ‘Do not call me that,’ she spat viciously, ‘it is Martina now.’

  ‘You will always be who you are dear child. You cannot fight what is in you and that is my blood that flows through your veins,’ Ardoh said spitefully.

  Martina shivered in fury, how he dare mention that. He might be her father but she was nothing like him. In fact she resented that fact so much that it was the reason everything was happening the way it was.

  ‘Calm down child. We both know what happens when our kind get angry. Even if you betrayed me I will help you. One cannot forget his own flesh and blood.’

  Martina explained to him the dreams she had been having. Ardoh listened attentively as she spoke. When she had finished he looked at her and smiled.

  ‘Why does this not seem to bother you,’ she asked.

  ‘Because it is fate my child…’

  ‘No, we cannot allow this to happen. Do you not realize the danger, it has to be stopped,’ she pleaded with him.

  ‘Sometimes I wonder if you will ever understand that we cannot alter the future. If it is set to happen let it be,’ he said.

  ‘No, if you do not help me I will do it myself even if it is the last thing I do,’ she stood up and crossed over to the door, ‘father.’

  She had never ceased to grab any opportunity to disappoint him. After all he thought he had raised her better. Sometimes he wondered how she could possibly be his daughter. They had so many differences.

  ‘You did not listen to me Demetris, now you suffer the consequences. It is your fault all this is unraveling,’ he shouted.

  She stopped dead in her tracks. It seared through her heart. It was true, it was all her fault. That was why she had to stop it from taking place. Martina turned and faced him and saw that underneath all the pain and hatred was concern and love. She was his only daughter, the one who had inherited and carried his legacy.

  ‘I know,’ she answered in almost a whisper.

  ‘You should have never trusted Ballant and that good-for-nothing queen of his, look what they did to you.’

  ‘I must go there.’

  ‘And get yourself killed this time, do not be a fool.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘Wait, the time to intervene will present itself,’ he replied assertively.

  Martina could not help believe his words and find comfort in them. It was happening as foretold. Father and child would be as one forsaking their anger and differences to unite and fight as one.

  ‘Then I shall resume residence in my old quarters,’ she said and left the room.

  Ardoh feared for her, for she did not know half the story. He had noticed she no longer wore her ring. Maybe that was why her sight was returning. She had not worn the ring for many years explaining the dreams. It had been made to give her strength to control her powers or they would consume her. How she had managed to overcome them without the ring remained a mystery to him. Maybe she was not as weak as she seemed. If she could control such power then maybe she could stop the following events from occurring.