The Fifth Kingdom
This is the second book in the four book fantasy series. The novel is available on Amazon via kindle, paperback, and for free via Kindle Unlimited.
At the bottom of this page is the first scene of the book as a sample.
Back of book cover
On a medieval planet, Brodia has run away from her Zenii, Grand Wizard Preem. Alone, she strives to learn more magic as she helps the poor and disadvantaged citizens of Otanic. Brodia travels east toward the fifth kingdom, unaware that this now is the hunting ground for the psychotic killer who only wants to see her die.
On the road east, Brodia faces the Brotherhood who seek to burn her as a witch, and the King's Patrol, sent to strip her of her magic. Meanwhile, Wizard Preem remains trapped in the capital at the king's pleasure.
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Defender of Vosj
In the year 1467, in Vosj’s fourth kingdom, Brodia would soon find herself tied over the top of a Brotherhood pyre.
However, a week before that day, she completed her work in a wealthy farmer’s barn. Wearing her preferred men’s clothes and pear-green beret, she strode across the farmyard as the rain fell in big drops, making small craters in the soft soil. Eleven-year-old Julani ran ahead, giggling as she showed off, trying to dodge the water droplets.
The family’s youngest daughter was already in hero-worship love with Brodia despite this being her first day here. Habort, the son, seemed just as infatuated, though she doubted his motivation was noble. He was a year younger and followed her across the yard as if getting wet meant nothing to him. The air smelled clean, lifting Brodia’s spirits as the rain washed away her concerns over being abandoned by Wizard Preem, the man she loved.
The farmhouse’s fresh white paint contrasted with the dark green window boxes under the kitchen’s windows. As Julani pulled open the back door, it afforded Brodia a glimpse of the kitchen, where the flash of pale yellow froze her steps.
Habort bumped into her by accident. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She ducked out of the yellow man’s sight. Dressed as she was, it would be death meeting a Daffodil. “I should dress better for dinner,” she told the son.
“I’ll go with you,” he offered until she suggested he might hold her hand in the outhouse.
In the barn by herself, Brodia pulled on her cobalt-blue dress with light trim. It hid the blackened wand she carried in her belt. After stuffing her pear-green beret under the straw, she strode back to the kitchen door. She couldn’t avoid meeting with the Brotherhood, but it still sent chills down her spine. She hated these kidnappers of young girls above all other men.
Inside the farm’s large kitchen, the farmer, Pavel, talked to a member of the Brotherhood Against Wizardry, or Daffodil, to those who despised them. This farm was over a league west of the Longford Road from Big Oak and fifteen leagues from the capital. She had hoped she was far from the areas these bastards frequented. She dropped her gaze before shuffling over to help the farmer’s wife at the firepit.
Besides these killers, she also feared the king’s patrol would arrest her for hurting a man in Kefnu. However, she had eliminated her greatest threat two days ago when she watched a barn burn to the ground, taking the life of the tall apprentice who not only strangled young girls but had made it a mission to murder Brodia. Twice they clashed; each time she had survived the encounter with the Western Strangler, though she’d be a fool to claim she was strong enough to defeat him on equal terms.
Pavel introduced the Brotherhood member as Brother Amar, who said he had camped his group in the west pasture. She made a mental note to keep far away from that meadow. If the Daffodils learned who she was, they would burn her alive.
She waited at the large kitchen table, where everyone sat according to rank. The father was seated at the head with Habort opposite the Daffodil. Next came the fourteen-year-old daughter, Klupio, facing her little sister Julani. Brodia was next to Julani while the mother occupied the table’s foot near the firepit. Brodia cared little for the eldest girl, who already knew everything essential about life, reminding Brodia of this several times during the day.
Klupio was in a heated exchange with her father about the marriage contract while the Daffodil listened. To Brodia’s surprise, the girl glanced at her twice as if asking for help in the dispute. Klupio’s left hand rested palm-up on the table; she touched her thumb to the top pad of her little finger. The secret sign of the Fourth Daughters. Brodia was a Defender of Vosj, one of three individuals in that exclusive group sworn to defend the planet against tyranny. As such, she realized belonging to the Fourth Daughters would be inappropriate, though she agreed with their philosophy that women had the right to choose their husbands.
As she tried to join the conversation, the mother went to the firepit. “Brodia, can you assist me with the roasted chicken?” she said over her shoulder. Brodia hurried to help slide the bird off the spit onto the large metal serving plate. “I think I know who you are,” the wife whispered. “Be careful around Pa. He’s set in his ways. I’ll not see my daughters whipped because they want a better life.” Brodia nodded before taking the roast to the table.
She returned to her seat deep in thought over Klupio, who was fast approaching marrying age. Brodia sympathized with her helplessness, but it required a nuanced approach. “Klupio, listen to your father,” she said. When the Daffodil leaned forward to stare at her, she continued her advice. “Daughters should bring in the marriage contract money; it’s their duty.”
Klupio glared at her with a mixture of betrayal and hatred. When the Daffodil turned his attention back to Klupio, Brodia placed her left hand, palm up, touching her thumb to her little finger’s tip. Klupio’s face changed to bewilderment, then a touch of understanding. She gave the slightest nod before promising to follow the normal tradition of the marriage contract.
Pavel nodded toward Brodia, but Julani’s expression became loathing. At least Brodia had stopped the battle for now. Soon, she’d sit down with Klupio to help find a better solution than just goat-butting heads with her pa.
She changed the dinnertime subject of discussion. “Brother Amar, I heard rumors that the Western Strangler is dead. Is this true?”
“A farmer claimed to see him enter their barn during a thunderstorm. When lightning set it on fire, it burned the killer to death. A fitting end to a monster,” he replied, happy to talk of state matters instead of a small farming family’s internal strife. “However, we still await confirmation from Kefnu.”
“Fortitad has answered this humble farmer’s prayers,” Pavel said. “I had feared for the lives of my daughters.”
Brodia rolled her eyes at such righteous arrogance, but then listened to the ensuing discussion with half an ear as her mind swirled around the idea the palace hadn’t confirmed the bastard’s death. The conversation at the table’s head developed into rumors of Harpin invading Otanic. Amar dismissed them, claiming Wizard Preem would destroy them just as Sarn the Sage did once before. Then he extended his news about Preem, “The king’s patrol seeks the Crusher’s abominable apprentice for injuring an innocent man. If they catch her, they’ll torture her before throwing her in the dungeons. But the Brotherhood has a better idea for her punishment.”
Brodia wanted to scream that the Brotherhood were the monsters and that she would sacrifice her life to defend Otanic against Harpin’s grand mage because the realm wasn’t ready. She knew Amar would never risk his life for anything except his Brotherhood. But all she said was, “We all trust Preem the Crusher will stop them.” However, the realization that King Attim planned to torture her gave her chills. Should I return to Kefnu? But, she would let Preem decide if he needed her.