SEA OF THE DEAD
The Slave Prince: Book One
Copyright Matthew Holmes, 2013
Published by Matthew Holmes
Cover design by Connor Magill
Manufactured in Canada
First printing December 2013
See reviews and ratings at https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7540134.Matthew_Holmes
For my wonderful sister, Kathy
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: Midnight Escape
Chapter 2: A new Beginning
Chapter 3: Street Fight
Chapter 4: A Voice in the Night
Chapter 5: Accidents
Chapter 6: Witch Hunt
Chapter 7: Tree, Cave, Spy
Chapter 8: Sphergol
Chapter 9: The Beginning of a Journey
Chapter 10: Happy Birthday
Chapter 11: Blinded
Chapter 12: A Way Revealed
Chapter 13: The fight for the Blade
Chapter 14: The Other Side
Chapter 15: The Coast of the Dead
Chapter 16: Under the sea
Chapter 17: The Bottom
Chapter 18: Lament
Chapter 19: Scratching in the Dim
Chapter 20: Desperate
Chapter 21: Bones to Ashes
Chapter 22: The Next Step
Acknowledgements
Authors Bio
Prologue
Long, long ago, there was a land of great wealth and power. Each citizen who called that world home was blessed with a unique ability that would enable them to see into the future, turn thin air into water, and some of them even could create anything they could imagine.
As the population increased, the people of this land spread out over the entire world, and their powers made life easy.
However, the world soon became too crowded, and the people became angry, unleashing civil wars on every continent. Rioters filled the streets and eventually royal blood was spilled. One morning, Alenad, the High King of the great city of Magentara, was found dead with a silver dagger through his heart.
This caused a deadly all-consuming war between those loyal to the High King, and those who wished to govern themselves. One group who called itself the Defre-Lanc, retreated to a remote area that no one had ever seen. Slowly the battle ended as more and more people fled.
Eventually there were five separate kingdoms where the great city once stood. They were the Defre-Lanc, Acosh, Jenoth, Marianatha, and Sethont. Each kingdom was governed by its own capitol city.
As punishment for their wickedness, monsters were created to roam the land and pose threat to the people, and their powers were sucked away. The return of magic was promised, but it was far off.
The knowledge of the true nature of their power, and of its high reaches were forever lost.
Chapter 1: Midnight Escape
All was dark as the prince rode from the castle into a world unknown, sword at his side and a large satchel over his shoulder. Michael could still hear his father shouting orders to the soldiers. They’ll never catch me now, he thought patting his horse on the neck.
When Topaz was young, the prince rescued him from a pack of wolves. They had brought him down hard, striking his side against a tree so he broke three ribs. He was sure to die if Michael had not killed the pack’s leader with a well-aimed arrow. The others turned and attacked the prince. One snatched his bow and reduced it to splinters while the others nipped at his ankles.
Michael fell to the base of a tree, defenseless. He heard a soft clank as metal hit rock. At that moment, the prince jumped up and pulled his sword from its sheath. Young as he was, Michael began swinging the thick steel madly at his enemies. Blood streaked the night as he killed the beasts.
When he thought he had finally finished them all the prince relaxed, but the final wolf crouched in the shadows, readying his pounce. When he attacked, Michael instinctively swung his blade, slicing off the wolf’s left ear. It scurried away whining.
Michael led the wounded horse to the castle, where he nursed it back to health.
Two years later, the prince rode into the night on Topaz in search of a life away from the crown.
Michael heard a dart whiz past his head. Sleeping darts, he thought to himself. Five horses raced toward him, so he urged Topaz to speed up. If he was caught, they’d take him back to the castle, which was more like a prison to him. He needed to get away.
Michael glanced down at the treasure he stole from his father’s weapon rack that very night. It was still contained in the strange leather pouch that kept the blade clean and its owner in one piece.
They were closing in on him. Suddenly spooked, Topaz turned a sharp left and ran into the bushes. Michael’s head jerked back as he hit a tree branch. “Ugh!” he felt a warm trickle flow from his head. In a few short moments, blood poured down his head, face and neck and then onto his back. He struggled to stay conscious as it streamed from the wound. This was not his only worry though; they now had a trail to follow.
He ripped off part of his expensive tunic and wrapped it around his head, trying to stop the crimson stream.
Father must have promised them a share of his treasury for them to be this motivated, he thought as they turned right behind him.
Michael was sixteen, nearly considered a man by the standards of his family. In a few short weeks, he would reach adulthood and be given authority over several villages in the kingdom of Jenoth. He would grow his treasury, establish his name in the kingdom, and eventually rule all of Jenoth.
Michael didn’t want any of that. All he wanted was just a little bit of freedom, but his father always hunted him down like a cat would a mouse. The prince didn’t want to be of royal blood at all. He wanted a real friend, not somebody who trailed him like a lost child just to say that they spent time with the prince. It disgusted him.
The closest thing to a friend that he had ever had was his servant, Fredric. Whenever Michael ever needed something, Fredric was always there. It was his job; he was paid to follow orders from Michael. Finally, Michael had given him his last order—to aid in the escape of the prince.
The stars gleamed above him; seemingly clueless about what was happening below. The sky above was a dark purple as the red evening sky in the west faded to darkness. Though the sun had set an hour ago, it still illuminated the band through the northern sky like a dancer’s ribbon. Another dart was fired and it pierced his ear.
A sharp pain shot through his head and distracted him, else he would have seen the Jenoth Gorge—a wide crack in the earth which led down more than two hundred feet. Anything that went in never came back out.
It was too late to stop when he saw the steep drop off, but there was a tree on the other side of the gorge that gave him an idea. He had to act fast to save his life.
A rope was looped around the golden saddle horn; a custom of wardrobe for castle steeds. Quickly, he pulled it from his saddle and reattached it to the strange shaped weapon that he stole from his father. He swung it over his head and aimed for the tree.
He timed his only throw and then released the rope from his right hand.
There was a solid thump as the homemade grappling hook wrapped around the tree and bit into the bark. Seconds later, Michael and Topaz tumbled over the edge. He held on for his life as Topaz fell. Michael swung over to the other side, unable to look down.
When he hit the rock on the other side, his heels bruised from the impact. The prince looked down and watched as his horse disappeared into the mist below. He waited to see if Topaz would climb back up but when he heard a dull thump echo up the brown stone, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He strained to see through the mist, but in truth, he was glad that he couldn’t.
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Michael climbed up the side of the gorge and examined his handiwork; the dagger gripped into the tree with two of the three back-facing hooks. He pulled the dagger out of the tree and looked it over. The Talon, Michael thought to himself, as the name of the deadly war dagger thrummed in his mind.
The dagger was made of three blackened steel blades that curved out at one hundred and twenty degree angles from a center spike. The blades were honed to deadly precision; sharp enough to cut loose yarn with a gentle stroke. The hooks angled back wickedly, and the blade extended to a needle point two inches further. The top of the hilt had six evenly placed metal prongs, so the dagger could be held at any angle and guard effectively. The pommel was a hollow spike which could mutilate chunks of flesh, but also made it possible to mount the dagger on a pole; making it a tri-bladed spear.
He placed the blade back into the reinforced leather sheath, then placed the bundle into his satchel.
Michael could see lamps lit in windows far above the ground. He didn’t know where he was until he read a sign: Welcome to the capital city of Jenoth.
The runaway prince smiled and ran a hand through his dark, blood-streaked hair.