To Rule by Right: A Dark Tale of Fantasy- 2nd edition
To Rule by Right
A Dark Tale of Fantasy
Wayne C. Hannis
Copyright 2011 Wayne C. Hannis
Cover art by Ryan Hannis
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
To Rule By Right
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Chapter 1
He looked at the young woman lying on the opposite side of his large plush bed. She was naked and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Her eyes were closed and the bruises on her neck stood out like fresh tattoos on her pallid skin. She was older than him by a few years and very beautiful; her dark hair flowed around the pillows. He smiled, thinking of the pleasure he took from her last night. She was given to him by the gods and she fulfilled her purpose of serving him in life and death.
Stretching, the young man walked over and opened the finely crafted double doors that led to his balcony. The early spring air of mid-morning was chilled in the shadow of the Ahern Citadel and the sky was full of high thick clouds, his room immediately brightened with a grey light. Looking over the burnished stone balustrade, he saw the turbulent muddy rapids of the Tasmorian River rushing down from the melting glaciers high in the north. The cool air in his lungs made his body serge with anticipation. In four days, he would be nineteen and Prince Coel Ahern would no longer be just prince, he would be King Coel Ahern. The sixth Ahern to rule Tasmorea. For three hundred years his family had ruled Tasmorea ever since Daloseos united the northern kingdoms. It was a grand heritage and after his father King Bowen died suddenly fifteen years ago, the Heir Apparent had waited. Today he would start his journey to claim that inheritance. Once he acquired the White Mantle of the King- which was made from a single coat of a Winter wolf, he would take what was his. Coel pictured himself wearing the mantle, 'I will look so powerful,' he thought.
Coel imagined he could see the whole of the Land from his vantage point in the citadel. He looked far to the north. On the fringes of civilization was The Frozen City- Saractica, encased in ice for most of the year, it was the wealth of the kingdom from mining precious stones from deep within the mountains. Strong walls protected it from the constant attacks of the warmongering Hobgoblins, who would ride their Winter Wolves into battle. 'What a sight that would be.' Coel thought, swelling with pride.
Coel turned his gaze to the west; beyond the horizon; beyond the fir and spruce forests that blanketed the Tasmorean Lowlands- he envisioned Daloseos. On the northern most shore of the vast Lake Shanderan, the city was home of the Emerald Throne. The Council of Ten Lords sat there but Coel scoffed at that thought. Just a bunch of old men in his opinion. “And my opinion is the only opinion that matters,” he stated to himself. Also, his Uncle Oril- Regent of the realm, Coel had not seen his uncle for nine years. The last time was when he was officially named the Heir Apparent. “And by all accounts, Uncle, you've kept my kingdom well. As an Ahern, I wouldn't have expected any less.”
“But soon this will all be mine,” his ambition was more than ruling a back water kingdom in the cold wastelands of the north, however. “Mine by right of birth, given to me by the gods. To rule by right.” King Coel would establish an empire.
Going back into his room, he looked down at the young woman and noticed rigamortis had set in- her jaw locked in a position that seemed to be mocking him. Coal slumped his head and shoulders. He hated it when rigamortis set in- it was so hard to dispose of the corpse. Struggling with the weight of her stiffened body, he carried it to the balcony and unceremoniously dropped her over. He watched her fall, hitting a few rock outcroppings on the way down and then splash into the river far below without a sound.
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