Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2) Read online

  Rise of the Serpent

  By Jason Halstead

  ©2015

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For additional information contact:

  www.novelconceptpublishing.com

  5699 Applegrove Dr.

  West Bloomfield, MI 48324

  Cover art © 2015 Willsin Rowe

  Proofread by Faith Williams

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Jason Halstead’s website: http://www.booksbyjason.com

  Sign up for Jason’s newsletter

  Other Adventures in the world of Kroth:

  Blades of Leander:

  Child of Fate

  Victim of Fate

  Silver Dragon

  Order of the Dragon:

  Isle of the Ape

  Chasing the Dragon

  Sands of Betrayal

  Dragonlady

  And the Serpent’s War trilogy:

  Servant of the Serpent

  Rise of the Serpent

  Chapter 1

  “Watch where you’re walking, old crone!”

  The bowed figure nodded. “My apologies,” she said, her voice cracking with age. “The leprosy has clouded my eyes.”

  “Gah, be gone!” the guard cried and staggered away as fast as he could.

  The figure cackled and moved on, passing through the crowded street and turning off to slip into the tailor’s shop. A bell on the door chimed, drawing the figure up.

  “Welcome. Can I help you, miss?”

  The old woman drew herself up as much as her bowed back would allow and looked around. “Dearie me,” she cackled, “I’m running an errand. For a friend, you see…but I don’t seem to remember what it was.”

  “Oh,” the young woman said. She brushed her pageboy styled hair to the side and glanced around. “Perhaps my father can help you remember? Let me get him.”

  “Ah!” the old woman cried. “Kristophanes, yes, that’s it!”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed.

  “Must I go through Lyden again to see her?”

  The girl appraised him with a shrewd eye and said, “Things have changed since you were last here. It’s been some time. You’ve gotten older, it seems.”

  The woman’s cackle turned into a cough. She reached up to her cowl and threw it back as she lifted her head and stood straight. The hunch in her straightened, but a lump remained on her shoulders. Her voice changed, dropping and smoothing into that of a young man’s. “Amra, I’ve missed your pretty face.”

  “Have you now?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I wish I could say the same.”

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “Yes, the face you’ve got now isn’t much to look on.”

  “Saints!” he groaned and reached up to the putty he’d smeared and shaped on his face. “I forgot. Do you have a mirror and a basin of water? Preferably before your father sees me.”

  Her lips pressed together. “I told you, things have changed,” she said. “He won’t be happy to see you.”

  “He wasn’t happy the last time. All the more reason to keep me away from him.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “There, behind those drapes. There is a mirror. I will bring you water and a rag.”

  “You’re a princess,” he said.

  She bit off a chuckle. “And you’re a cad, Namitus.”

  Namitus gasped and lifted his hand to his chest as though she’d stabbed him. “I’ve only the most honorable intentions.”

  “That explains the disguise,” she noted. She waved him away. “Go, quickly, before I need to explain this to someone.”

  The rogue grinned and slipped through the shelves of fabrics to the cloth-walled dressing room. He slipped inside and pulled the threadbare robes over his head and removed the bundles across his back he’d used to enhance his disguise. By the time he stretched and felt comfortable again, Amra slipped between the sheets and handed him a bowl filled with water.

  Namitus grinned. “Better yet?”

  “Hardly,” she said and produced a rag. She dipped it in the water and went to work cleaning the paint and molded clay from his face. When she finished, she stared at him and gave him a nod. “That will do.”

  Namitus turned to the mirror and checked himself out. He grinned. “That’s the face the people love.”

  Amra snorted. “Not the people around here!”

  He turned, clutching his chest again. “We came to make things better!”

  “You came to help your friend rescue his sister.”

  “And unseat the Order. They’ve backed off, have they not? The taxes are lessened and the burden of soldiers is down?”

  She frowned. “Some, though not like it was before you came.”

  Namitus sighed. “They use my friends as an excuse to fatten their pockets.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked. “This time, I mean. Kelgryn is a long ways from here to come and see the daughter of a tailor.”

  Namitus hoisted the packs he’d worn and shook them. Amra’s eyes widened when she heard the muffled jingling of metal. “The other half I promised. I’m extremely late, I know. I came from farther than Kelgryn.”

  “Two years too late!” she pointed out before frowning and asking, “What’s beyond Kelgryn?”

  “The Kingdom of Altonia,” Namitus said. He leaned close and said, “I’m a knight of the court, can you believe it?”

  “You—you’re a knight?” she gasped. Her eyes dropped to the scimitar at his side.

  “I know, it’s hard to believe!”

  She hesitated and then shook her head. “I have to get my father.”

  Namitus groaned. “This won’t go well, will it?”

  “Wait here,” she said. She stopped and stared at him. “You will be here, right?”

  Namitus smiled and hefted the satchels. “Of course. This is too heavy to carry around all day!”

  “You’re really a knight?” she double-checked.

  “Not the shining armor kind,” he assured her. “But Alto—King Alto—gave me the title.”

  She raised an eyebrow and spun away through the cloth flaps. Namitus waited, turning slowly and peering through the slits between the blankets out of curiosity. He didn’t have to wait long. Lyden rushed through the shop, knocking fabric off the shelves in his haste to reach him. Namitus noted the cudgel the man carried tight to his thigh. Amra followed behind, her skirts pulled up in her hand to let her keep up with her father.

  Lyden swept the curtain aside and let out a cry. “He’s gone!”

  “What? He said—”

  “I’m here,” Namitus said and stepped around the curtains to stand beside Amra. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t greeted with a club to the head first.”

  Lyden’s face reddened. “You and your friends have brought enough harm to Shazamir!”

  “Whoa!” Namitus held up his hand, his satchel hanging from one of them. “We killed a few drag
ons and unearthed a network of assassins who were conspiring to start a war between nations. How is that a bad thing?”

  “The taxes barely dipped. In their stead, the new emperor insisted a stronger army was needed. Rumors of uprisings in the east and south have prices and taxes rising again. Perhaps we lived in harsh times before, but they were stable.”

  Namitus tossed the satchel to Lyden, causing the man to catch it and nearly double over with a grunt when it hit him in the stomach. He heard the jingle and looked up at Namitus and then to his daughter. “Gold?” he wheezed.

  Namitus nodded. “Among other things.”

  “What—what is this?”

  “I thought I’d try to buy your daughter and take her away,” Namitus tried to say with a straight face. He faltered when he saw the red darken on Lyden’s face. Amra gasped beside him, ending his attempts with a laugh. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. This is the other half of the wealth I promised you when I was here before.”

  Lyden’s color faded as he turned to Amra. “You didn’t tell me he brought this.”

  “You didn’t give me time,” she responded. “You also didn’t let me tell you that Sir Namitus is a knight.”

  Namitus winced.

  Lyden’s eyes widened. “A knight?”

  “Of King Alto’s court, yes,” the rogue admitted. “It’s a title, really, nothing more. Well, a place to stay and good food, I suppose. I don’t wear the heavy armor or anything like that.”

  Lyden hefted the satchel to hear the metal shift and clink again. “How did this come about? Does Kelgryn have knights?”

  Namitus glanced around as he thought. “I don’t think so. They have warriors and champions and thanes and such, but nobody officially called a knight. No, my friend, King Alto, carved a kingdom out of the forest west of the Northern Divide, after we defeated the queen who enslaved the monsters of the region and drove out the wood elves.”

  Lyden looked at his daughter again and back to Namitus. He held out the satchel. “Take it. We’ve no need of it. Ann is gone, killed by assassins. Our guild of merchants has been undone.”

  Namitus took the satchel back and frowned. “Damn,” he muttered and then glanced at Amra. “My apologies, my lady, but this is bad news.”

  “I’m not a lady,” she mumbled amid a blush.

  “You are to me,” the rogue said with a shrug. He turned back to Lyden. “This was a personal mission of mine, to see things set a-right. I’ve come seeking the counsel of others as well. But tell me, Master Tailor, how fares the Order? Lady Caitlin openly serves it, and it seems many of their ventures have come out from the shadows, seeking legitimacy.”

  Lyden grunted. “Rumor has it you spent time with them too.”

  Namitus nodded. “I was their guest for a piece. I don’t recommend it; the conversation can be somewhat pointed.”

  “The scars!” Amra gasped.

  Namitus smiled briefly and nodded. He was surprised she remembered the healing wounds from when he’d been tortured and nearly killed. She’d seen them only briefly, when he’d visited before. Apparently he’d made as strong impression on her as she had made on him.

  Lyden’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know much about them. I’ve heard they have soldiers and emissaries who are nestled in among the royals.”

  Namitus grunted. “As much as we know,” he lied. He gave the satchel a gentle shake. “Are you sure? You’re welcome to it. I’m many things, I confess, but I like to consider myself a man of my word.”

  Lyden eyed it and shook his head. “To what ends? I’d use it to improve my business and then the emperor’s men would just take it from me with higher taxes.”

  “There’s enough here to make a new life. Move on, find a new place. Come north, to Altonia. We’re a fledgling nation that could use skilled men such as yourself. I’m sure I could find something for your lovely daughter. The queen can always use another lady-in-waiting.”

  “The queen?” Amra gasped.

  “That’s enough,” Lyden snapped. “We’re not uprooting everything and starting anew. That’s nonsense. You’re a bad influence, Sir Namitus.”

  Namitus bowed. “I’ve heard that before, Master Lyden. Well, if I can’t tempt you with riches or tales of adventure and chivalry, I’m afraid I must be off.”

  Amra gasped. “Your disguise! I threw it in the trash.”

  Namitus waved it aside. “It’s been two years. I wore it to see how well you remembered me.”

  Lyden’s eyes narrowed as he turned to his daughter. “You did?”

  “Not at first,” she admitted. “But soon after.”

  Namitus smiled. “It was my pleasure to see you again. Both of you, since there was no need for clobbering or even harsh words.”

  Lyden grunted and took Namitus’s hand in his. He held him for a moment and stared in his eyes. “Where are you staying?”

  Namitus shrugged. “Nowhere, most likely. Two years or not, some memories are better than others. I’ll be visiting the witch Arcturia and be on my way, most likely.”

  Amra snapped her fingers. “The rats!”

  Namitus winced. “Ah, that. Yes, well, that wasn’t exactly our doing. It was a friend of a friend, you could say. An acquaintance, really. Dangerous fellow but mostly harmless if you’re on his side.”

  Amra and her father shared a look and then she laughed and shook her head. Namitus grinned and bowed again before turning and heading for the door. He turned before opening it and waved, earning a quick return wave from Amra, before he ducked out into the hot desert street of the Shazamir Merchant’s District.

  The rogue turned knight slipped through the crowds and did his best to avoid the guardsmen he saw gathered in groups. He walked down the streets, heading to the north and west and focusing too much on the guards and not enough on the townsfolk around him.

  Namitus glanced up ahead and almost stumbled. He veered to his left and turned down an alley. He moved fast, slipping between some broken boxes and other less recognizable rubbish. He risked a glance over his shoulder, fearing the man he’d recognized had seen him as well.

  He turned behind the tavern and sought to come out the other side. He made it halfway down the side of the tavern before the back door of the tavern burst open and two men spilled out, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste.

  The rogue skidded to a halt on the sandy ground and turned to head back. Another man, the one he’d recognized on the street, rounded the corner of the tavern and reached down to put his hand on the curved sword at his side.

  “Thought I’d seen me a ghost,” the man said.

  “Dal, I didn’t think you were still alive,” Namitus said.

  “No thanks to you leaving me to the guards,” the man scoffed. “Always promised myself what I’d do if I saw you again.”

  “Shake my hand and thank me for giving you a chance to leave behind a life of crime?”

  Dal drew his sword. It was a curved blade like Namitus’s scimitar, but the blade wasn’t as thick. Namitus suspected his old companion’s blade didn’t have the magical edge that his had either. “Heard you had a hand in that business a couple years back. Was looking for you then, but then I heard them snake lovers got their fangs in you.”

  “Rumors are a dangerous thing to listen to,” Namitus said. He turned to the side and glanced back at the two men who were approaching from the rear door of the tavern. One held a cudgel and the other a long knife.

  “That they are. Them that get snatched up by those scaly bastards don’t come back,” Dal sneered. “Might have been better for you if they had.”

  Namitus’s hand dropped to his pommel. “I tell you what—walk away now and I won’t hold this disagreement against you. Consider the past as making us even.”

  “Even?” Dal scoffed.

  “Aye, for all the gold you skimmed from what we fenced.”

  The man snorted. “I earned my cut. Got you into the business and showed you what was what. Took you under my wing and kept you saf
e, then you stabbed me in the back.”

  Namitus snorted. “I was doing fine on my own. Had more talent than you and a hundred others, else you wouldn’t have picked me time and again.”

  “You betrayed me,” Dal growled.

  Namitus shook his head and drew his scimitar. “If I stab you, it’ll be in the front, not the back.”

  Dal snarled. He waved his sword and spat, “Take him!”

  Namitus swept his sword through the air, making the ruffians behind him pause. “I’ve fought men, splisskin, ogres, and trolls,” he warned them. “The edge of this blade is sharp enough to cut through a mountain troll as though they were made of butter. Think what that will do to you.”

  Dal howled in response. “Don’t listen to him! Gut him like the silver-tongued swine he is!”

  Namitus shook his head and stared at the thief. “Why don’t you try me, or are you still anxious to have others do their dirty work for you?”

  Dal sneered at him. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get mine in before you’ve pulled your last breath.”

  Namitus twisted away and leapt forward, catching the two thugs off guard. His scimitar came up under the thrusting dagger of one of the ruffians. Instead of striking the blade and deflecting it high, the edge cut through the thief’s wrist and severed it with as much effort as Namitus had promised.

  The rogue kept twisting, putting the injured man in the way and using him as a shield. “Told you it cuts like butter,” he taunted.

  The injured man grabbed his spurting wrist and staggered back into his companion. The man with the club pushed back, sending the bleeding ruffian forward and knocking him off his feet. Namitus tried to get away but his leg was jarred by the falling man.

  Namitus threw himself forward and doubled over to take the descending cudgel in a glancing blow off his back. He cried out and fell forward, reaching out with his right hand and pinning his sword against the ground. He held his left hand tight to his body and waited.

  “He’s mine!” Dal snarled.

  Namitus smiled. His gamble paid off. He pushed himself up with his legs and right arm. His back hit the chest of the man poised to drive his club into the back of Namitus’s head. His left hand drove the dagger he’d drawn up into the man’s belly. He jerked up, cutting and driving the blade higher and deeper.