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Heir of the Blood King
Adventures of Adam: Book One
By: W.O. Cassity
Copyright © 2015 by W.O. Cassity
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover Illustration By: www.ebooklaunch.com
Copy Editing By: www.awediting.com
For Lucianna, Lillian, Hazel, and William:
May each of you always have the strength to take your destiny into your own hands.
And a special thank you to Barbara:
For helping me pursue my dream.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: An Untraveled Pathway
Chapter Two: The Search for More
Chapter Three: Night of Lost Hopes
Chapter Four: Reflections to Ponder
Chapter Five: A Day of Renewed Hope
Chapter Six: Soaring Ambition
Chapter Seven: Free Fall
Chapter Eight: No Way To Home
Chapter Nine: A Fresh Start
Chapter Ten: Trappings of Admiration
Chapter Eleven: Freedom
Chapter Twelve: New Opportunities
Adventures of Adam: Book Two Preview
Special Note from the Author
About the Author
Chapter One: An Untraveled Pathway
The marching of the king’s soldiers broke the peaceful silence of the small village of Riverside. A safe distance to the north, a raven-haired boy listened carefully as he knelt down behind the tall grass along the riverbank. He was haunted by the screams of the dying villagers, which were brought asunder by blood-drenched swords. Merciless men lit every building in their wake on fire, as heartless scouts vigilantly located all of the children who neared the age of divining.
Adam felt as if his eyes were catching fire in his head from the smoke and fire that had enveloped his adopted home in the night. The night was fading though, and early morning light was breaking on the horizon. The sanctuary of the darkness was diminishing quickly. He felt it was secure enough, for the moment, but he would need to be moving soon.
Dread settled in his stomach as he realized he had not brought anything with him. The lithe boy had no implement for protection, and even if he actually had a weapon, he wasn't sure what good it would do him. He also had no food, but at least, he was next to a bountiful supply of water. Urgently, the determined stripling reached out for the satisfying water to get his fill before parting.
As Adam reached into the cool, clear water, he watched, mesmerized as it cleansed the layers of ash from his skin. When he splashed the water over his face, he saw the soot wash into his hands, staining the water black as it fell. After the current washed the dark soot downstream, he reached into the clean water to satisfy his thirst.
Having relieved his burning eyes, he surveyed the riverbanks and the fields to the south between him and the village. He was lost in thought when he felt something bump into his hand, which still rested in the water. He looked down and saw a stick about the length of his arm and just slightly smaller round than his wrist that the slow moving current had brought to him. Adam retrieved the river’s gift from the water and tested it with a firm thump to the ground. It would be sturdy enough to use as a weapon if he needed one. With the stick, he turned away from the river.
A moment of peace fell over him as he stepped into a puddle left by the early spring rains. He pondered for a moment at how his blue eyes stood out over his small nose and thin mouth within the pool’s reflection. The ripples from the splash of his foot distorted his features, making him appear to be smiling one second and frowning the next. He sighed heavily, for he knew he could not linger in the stillness of the moment to contemplate what had happened.
Adam knew the soldiers were not the only danger to worry about outside the safety of his village. To the north, the Berring Forest sheltered a vast array of wild animals. He was more concerned about the soldiers who still roamed the lands than the ravaging packs of hungry wolves and large predatory cats, which were more than happy to pick off an easy meal. At least, if he could cover his tracks and mask his scent by crushing up anise seeds, he might be able to make it to a cave to hide in long enough to get some sleep and gather his thoughts. He hoped he would find some berries to squelch the rumbling in his stomach along the way.
As he continued his quest for safety, the wind shifted north, casting the smoldering ash and smoke from the destroyed village overhead. He knew to move into the higher grass for concealment and often stopped to listen for pursuit. Being in a hurry would only make him careless, so what mattered most was to move carefully and to find refuge before night fell.
Adam had been too afraid during the night to process how quickly his life had changed in the course of a single day. He focused on survival and lying low under the cover of darkness so he could watch the movements of the torches the soldiers’ search parties carried. He paused, reflecting on how close Death had come to carrying him upon its dark-winged back to reunite him with his lost family. His stride kept pace with the steady rhythm of his heart, and Adam became lost in thought as he intently focused on putting distance between the village and himself.
He was not able to stop himself from worrying about Othelk, his mentor and guardian. When the guards arrived after the unexpected death of the centuries old necromancer king, his mentor was the one who woke Adam and urged him to flee. Looking back on the moment, Adam realized Othelk had been dressed in ornate steel armor and had carried a large sword and shield Adam had not seen before. His guardian’s thick brow was furrowed with concern, causing his thick, bushy eyebrows to look as wild as his unkempt beard. As they prepared to leave Adam’s room, Othelk prepared for battle by placing a heavy steel helmet over his thinning white hair.
Adam considered his guardian was dressed and prepared to confront the soldiers when he had awakened him. Somehow, Othelk must have known something was going to happen before hand. He tried hard to remember if there had been anything off about the old man the day before, but the more he focused on remembering his weathered face, the more Adam’s heart sank with the realization he did not know his mentor’s fate.
Othelk had hastily led him away from his sleeping quarters and was trying to put him on a raft when the soldiers arrived at the docks. One of the guards jumped on the raft where Adam was sitting, but his guardian began to fight off several guards at once. The last time he had seen Othelk, his fierce protector told him to run and not to look back as his sword erupted in flames along the surface. Adam watched as an unseen magical force sparked from his guardian’s shield throwing one of his opponents high into the air. In spite of whispered rumors he had heard, he never knew Othelk was so proficient with magic.
So, Adam did what he always did and followed his guardian’s orders. He resisted his impulse to assist Othelk and he ran without looking back. The grizzled man was his only family, and he feared he might have lost him too, just like he lost his parents and brother so long ago.
He knew Othelk had been a mercenary who once travelled with a small band of adventurers, boisterously seeking fame and fortune. Many of the older traders who used the Freedown River to carry their wares stopped by Riverside because they knew the old man during his adventurous youth. From what little he overheard in a few of the conversations with those merchants, Othelk had been both a scholar of arcane history and a crafty shield man.
The quiet and reflecti
ve version of Othelk Adam had come to know was very different. He knew his guardian cared for his well-being and viewed him as the son he never had. After the retired adventurer adopted him, he taught Adam basic trade. Even though the man protected Adam from unruly explorers who saw him as nothing more than a lowly servant, Othelk kept his distance emotionally.
Up ahead, just near the riverbank, Adam heard a precarious sound that snapped him back to attention. He dropped low, concealing himself behind the tall grass and tangled vines as he peered through and tried to assess the situation. The sound came from one of the Blood King’s guards calling for another to stop the raft they must have commandeered from the village. He remained still as he watched the bored soldier scan the river’s edge then signal his companions to continue down river.
Adam sighed with relief as he slowly made his way farther inland away from the river’s edge. He trudged along, but after a sleepless night, his attention waivered. In spite of his best efforts to remain alert, his mind drifted back to the memories of his past once more.
Adam was born along the Eastern Coast region, many miles away from his life working the docks on the Freedown River. His memories of his life before Othelk had claimed him were few. He remembered his mother, his father, and his twin brother, all with light blond hair so different from his own pitch black. For as long as he could remember, Adam felt like an outsider with no place he truly belonged.
He thought hard to find his earliest memory. There was a time when he was perhaps four summers old, he was traveling in the back of a wagon with his brother sitting across from him. Adam’s mother was leaning to the front, and his father was driving the horses hard, snapping the reins urgently. He would never forget the look of fear on his father’s face when he turned to watch Adam and his fair-haired brother playing in the back of the wagon. Adam had always figured his father was running away from something as if their lives had depended upon it.
He also remembered the men who had later surrounded the wagon. They were not a threat, but he could remember his father not wanting to talk to them. His mother had also awakened, and it was clear she was concerned about how his father answered the men’s questions.
That was the only memory Adam had left of his time with his family. From there, came the time when he fended for himself, hungry, alone, and pillaging for food. The villagers of those Eastern Coast towns would always drive him away for it was a kingdom ruled by anarchy. The region was known for seafarers, fishermen, and occasionally, raiding pirates. He thought for a time those people treated stray dogs living in the alleyways under the never-ending, gray skies better than they treated him. He also remembered stealing food had been a key point to his survival in those dark days.
Othelk had found him just as a group of kids had circled around him in the middle of the streets, clearly intending to beat him to a fine pulp. When the grizzled adventurer saved Adam, he remembered the tall muscular man telling him, “I’ve been searching for you, boy. I was a friend of your father.” Othelk had been dressed in simple clothes of gray and white, just as those he had worn for the last five years as he had worked to earn his keep on the docks his guardian had managed.
Adam knew very little else about Othelk’s history. He knew as a young man, his mentor grew up in Corronest, where the Order of the Fates Divined, or simply the Order, kept their stronghold. The city itself rested in the deep fertile wine valleys to the west just over the Samarodine Mountains. The Order had been established there more than a millennia ago after the Hordes of Darkwinter marched in force from the frozen tundra in the north. The cursed races of the invaders were referred to as the Goblinkin, for their aberrations were many, including goblins, orcs, ogres, and trolls, which ravaged the Eleven Kingdoms attempting to annihilate the alliance of elves, dwarves, and humans from existence.
As the alliance armies clung to their last hopes when the Goblinkin began to spill into the valleys at the midnight hour, a humble acolyte by the name of Thimirere prayed to the Fates for his purpose. According to the legendary songs of the survivors, while he prayed, white light that shone brighter than the sun enveloped him. Thimirere became the first true seer when he prophesied with a thunderous voice that shook the earth. He divined the alliance would beat back the Hordes to the northern wastelands. The radiant light surrounding the seer boosted the morale of the fighters and provided enough light for the alliance armies to turn the tide of the battle, while striking fear into the hearts of the invading Goblinkin.
After the forces of Darkwinter retreated, the remaining alliance appointed Thimirere to train the faithful in the magical craft of Divination and he was given the title of the first Prime Seer. Artisans from the Eleven Kingdoms came to pay tribute and built a majestic castle of polished granite so the newly established Order could focus on pursuing their devotion. The city of Corronest became the epicenter of wealth and knowledge throughout the kingdoms, and scholars erected academies while merchants from far-away lands brought their exotic resources for study.
Othelk had mentioned he had grown weary of reading about heroes in books and that was why he began his mercenary career. He wanted his story to be written down and recounted through the ages. The restless student had struck out on his own at first and eventually joined a small company of adventurers. He had even been married to one of his companions, but she had died many years before Adam had come to live with him.
Othelk never explained exactly how he had known Adam’s father, nor did he ever explain why he had come to save him. He only knew the retired adventurer didn’t need him to do the work. His guardian was quite skilled and could manage things easily enough on his own. Not to mention there were always volunteers ready to provide their labor for a warm place to sleep and something to eat.
The thing Adam was the most grateful for, however, was all of the time Othelk spent teaching him his trade. He not only learned to repair barges, rafts, and boats, but he also learned the basics of fishing and the crafting of tools for everyday tasks. His mentor also taught him how to read a person’s body language and even some minor skills dealing with commerce. He discovered he was quite proficient in the art of haggling.
Othelk was always quick to point out to Adam everything he was learning would be essential for when he set out on his own someday. He had asked the experienced warrior to teach him about the things he would need to know in order for him to be an adventurer, but the weary man told Adam he would need to find his own way. To Adam, it had always seemed like the old man was hiding something from him as if he had been afraid for his well-being. He believed it had something to do with the death of his family. Othelk continuously refused to speak to Adam about his own future as well. He had learned all of these skills, but how his teacher intended for him to use them remained a mystery.
Adam’s mind was still lost in thoughts of his family and Othelk when he neared the edge of the Berring Forest. As he stepped onto the small path entering the wilderness, he heard the rustlings of movement ahead. Looking up from his feet, he saw three small figures emerge from the tree line, staring in his direction. On instinct, he panicked, believing he had stumbled upon wild dogs or wolves. In truth, the situation was much more severe than he could have ever imagined. Although he had never seen one, the goblins were unmistakable with their sickly green faces and oversized ears.
Goblins had a reputation for being not only resourceful scavengers, but also possessing a hatred which fueled their insatiable appetites for carnage. Often times, they were underestimated for their diminutive stature. What they lacked in size and strength, they made up with in numbers and brutality. They were considered the first and most common of all the cursed races of the Goblinkin.
The largest of the three goblins sneered wickedly and unsheathed a crude, iron sword with jagged edges as he cried out for his companions to attack. The three attackers barreled toward him, freezing him with fear. The goblin in the center led the way, rushing forward to pierce Adam with his wicked little blade. Fortunately for
him, survival instincts took over, and he burst into action. Driven by raw fear, he clenched his club tightly and took a swing straight at the lead goblin’s head, putting as much force behind it as he could muster.
Adam imagined his club would smash upon the lumpy, green head of the goblin leader with a loud smack, leaving him with one less goblin to worry about. That wasn’t quite what happened. Instead, the goblin leader lowered his head as he thrust his sword forward, causing Adam’s swing to careen wildly over the leader’s head. The leader's would be deadly thrust, which was aimed at the center of Adam’s chest, simply grazed his side, cutting through his tunic and nicking his skin. There was pain, but nothing Adam could not manage.
Even though he missed his intended target, luck seemed to have favored him, and Adam's wild swing wasn't a complete loss as the club discovered a new target. The goblin to the right of the leader stretched out his arm attempting to deflect the wayward blow, but he was unprepared for the force of it. The unprepared goblin let out a blood-curdling scream as Adam’s club smashed into his shoulder with a sickening crack. Holding his mangled arm, the goblin crumpled down to ground and writhed in pain.
Adam’s wild swing did throw him off balance, but the last five years he spent unloading rafts on the choppy Freedown River taught him how to recover his balance quickly. He managed to catch himself from falling to the ground, and he realized three things: First, if he were to come out of this alive, he must avoid being hit with that sword at all costs. Second, his strong sense of balance and strength were his assets for survival. And dreadfully third, his back was turned to the goblin with the sword because he had spun almost completely around.
Adam spun around just as the leader drew back his sword and swore under his breath as he stared at his injured companion lying on the ground beside him. At least Adam assumed it was swearing, judging by the dissatisfied look on the goblin's face. The uninjured goblin to the other side shifted on his feet, Adam watched as its eyes flickered between the leader and his fallen friend. Instead of retreating, which Adam thought would be his next move, the goblin started to move to Adam’s right.
The fear that had spurred Adam into motion melted away. He knew he had to live through this because there was no telling what would happen to him otherwise. Would they simply wound him and then eat him alive? Would they torture him endlessly? He didn't know for certain, but the one thing he did know was if he were meant to die today, it would have been much easier to have given himself over to the soldiers in the village. Having come to this epiphany, he decided he had risked too much to make it this far just to give up and die now.
Adam held onto his club, did his best to get solid footing, and prepared for the next deadly thrust of the leader’s sword. The sword-wielding goblin looked Adam up and down, sizing him up. As he considered taking the offensive, he noticed the uninjured goblin had snuck out of his line of sight for an ambush. Adam raised his club over his head, and without warning, he repositioned his footing to face the sneaky goblin. Before either of the goblins could react, he brought the club down on the goblin’s head and a loud crack sounded from the goblin's neck snapping beneath the powerful blow. Instantly, the sneaky little goblin fell to the ground, completely and utterly dead.
With his other companion still howling in pain on the ground beside him, the sword-wielding goblin became enraged. Judging by the expression on the goblin leader’s face, Adam figured he had managed to turn the tide in his favor. Standing over two feet taller than his opponent who was rushing him with a sword, he briskly stepped backward a few paces using his height and his longer legs to gain some advantage by widening the distance. Adam then turned to face his bewildered opponent holding his club high with the base of it close to his chin like a giant two-handed sword. He imagined in his mind this was how great warriors held their weapons before landing a deadly blow to their enemies.
The sword-wielding goblin then charged him to cover the distance. Adam was ready for the goblin leader’s advance, and without thinking, he met the oncoming goblin's charge with one of his own. Being completely new to the art of fighting and not being mindful of his surroundings, he failed to notice the large rock he would have to step over beforehand. This time, his fate wasn't as certain, as his foot glanced off the rock, throwing off his balance and sending him face first onto the ground. His club flew straight out of his hands and skittered across the way in front of him.
Adam felt the goblin leader bearing down upon him. If the goblin would have had time to take this in, perhaps he would have gently smiled to himself, Adam thought. Unfortunately, for the goblin, everything happened too quickly for Adam’s adversary to respond at all. The club that had flown from Adam's hands didn’t harmlessly fall away, but caught the goblin leader between his ankles and tripped him over, causing him to release his sword in order to protect himself from landing face first on the ground as Adam had. Unlike Adam, the goblin didn’t throw his sword out away from him. Instead, the jagged blade fell to the ground handle first in front of him. The sword-wielding goblin was skewered with his own blade.
Adam tasted the dirt and sweat in his mouth, and he knew he was still in danger. He had never killed anything other than fish to eat before this. If the hard landing to the ground hadn’t knocked him senseless, he would have been appalled. Fighting for his very life, he knew it was either him or them.
He struggled to shake off the feelings of disorientation and exhaustion and to get back to his feet in order to fight the injured goblin, but his eyesight became blurred and his vision narrowed down to a thin, dark tunnel. Pain surged in his foot and up through his leg from the awkward fall after tripping over the rock. Adam felt the warm, sticky blood drenching his tunic and causing it to adhere to his skin. He gasped for the cool, clean air in a last ditch effort to douse the fire burning in his lungs but darkness overcame Adam and left him oblivious to the world as he slipped into unconsciousness.