The Forgotten Crown (2019) Book 1 of The Broken Crown Series

Prologue

  Inscribed by Sir Barnard Hyll

Master Chronicler of the Royal Archives

In this year, 1280 Age of Man

"The gods have long seen fit to let the kingdom of men rule their own realms. Daagon merely vies for his place, the mighty rule, t'was always so."

"Your gods, Sir Balen. My God is a god of justice. A God who does not wish for his supplicants to sit idly while that usurper builds an empire on the backs of slaves and on the graves of innocent men and women. My God-"

"Ach, Your Highness. I didnae come here to argue religion." Sir Balen's nose wrinkled in distaste. "I came here to urge you to reconsider this pact. Tis' not wise. The King has not yet turned his eye upon our fair country." The pleading in his voice echoed in the small chamber, up through his aching feet and creaking knees and down through his scarred knobby fingers.

The Queen's words surprised the aging Lord. "That is where you are wrong Sir Balen, not even a fortnight ago a border patrol returned with a...message. Daagon wishes tribute and tax."

"Then by the god's give it to him!"

The powerful man at the Queen's side stirred, speaking for the first time. "Sir Balen I thought you to be a supporter of our cause?" The rich voice was reproachful but also held an unspoken question. "I know you to be a brave man; you have fought fearlessly at my side more times than I can say."

The Lord fiddled with the large ruby on his finger and then the cuff of his sleeve. "Forgive me Sire, donnae mistake my actions; I would gladly give my life for this kingdom, for you." He fiddled a moment more, his voice coming out as a whisper. "I have seen"- his fists clenched and his countenance paled. "I saw what that devil did at Dunnabargh!"

The regal pair before him remained quiet a moment. The Queen stretched out a long arm, gently taking his rough hands in her own. "Then you must know why we act. Such-" her voice caught a moment "Such atrocity cannot go unpunished."

"I saw the wee babes they strung up for the carrion. I saw the women-" Sir Balen shuddered and turned his watery gaze upon his King and Queen. "I have wee bairns o' my own. I have a wife and a son. A son who wishes to fight! How do I tell my child, a boy who has never killed a man in his life, he will have to kill lads younger than he? That he will see children crucified and men burned alive." His gaze held no more, the tears running down his craggy cheeks and into his hoary beard. "I have seen Dunnabargh. How else do I save my family from yon fate? I'd give all I own and more to avoid bloodshed."

"Do you think we risk no less?" The Queen stood tall and for a moment a look of fear crossed her face. "I too have a family, a babe." The King gripped her hand firmly in his own. "A daughter" She whispered, "Who will inherit that madman's heel on her back if I do not stop him."

Sir Balen considered his Queen. Never had there been a more beautiful woman, nor a more proud one. "Your majesty-"

"The message came with the heads of Sir Banock and Sir Lawrence, as well as the heads of an entire patrol." The Lord reeled, reaching to the cold stone wall for support. The King stood united with his Queen then, his voice strong and sure. "It is done, Sir Balen. We are at war."

The Lord of Canten looked out the window, his old grey eyes taking in the land, the country, he so dearly loved. Deep in his bones he knew, it would never be the same again. "The gods help us."