Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1)

  Kingdom Come

  Blake F. Bisciotti

  BFBLibri

  Copyright © 2017 Blake F. Bisciotti

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction.

  All names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses events, or local is entirely coincidental.

  Published by BFBLibri

  Print ISBN 978-1-9745-8788-9

  e-book formatting by bookow.com

  Dedication

  For my son, Luca

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “It shouldn’t be this hot.” Ostinus thought as sweat beaded to a tip on his nose. He was sweating quite a bit in the heat as he tied the remaining cargo sacks to the mule. It was indeed a hot day in the city of Lunemire. After tying the last strap firmly, Ostinus Deenor stood upright and patted the mule on the rump. He clapped some dirt off his hands and noticed someone approaching out of the corner of his eye.

  “We should be ready to leave shortly. I must make one stop,” Elberon told his friend Ostinus. “It will be quick,” he said as he inspected the mule. Elberon Per Fiin, being a novice priest of Phelios the god of the sun, wore an amber colored robe. It fit tightly but opened a bit wider near the sleeves. The garment had a yellow sun right in the center of the chest as well as yellow trim on the sleeves and along the bottom. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back and his beard very short, but neatly shaved on his face. The mule snorted as the priest grabbed the lead rope and turned back to Ostinus. Elberon then looked to the house he had just exited. The priest’s voice dropped to just over a whisper, “Business must be good for old Martely, his order was quite large and his payment to us generous.” A smirk crossed his face.

  “Excellent, now let’s get on the way,” Ostinus grumbled. “This heat is brutal, a bit too hot for late spring if I may say.” He walked ahead of the mule and the priest. The group traveled just a bit and turned a corner to head down a thin street. Ostinus wore black cotton shorts to the top of the knee and a tan leather sleeveless shirt that tied at the top, typical attire for the man. The leather was course and thin and he kept the top untied and loose in the heat. His toned arms were glossy with sweat and he wore small bracers on his wrist. Fastened around his waist were a brown leather belt and several pouches. A dagger was sheathed on his side.

  Ostinus held his hand to cover the sun from his brown eyes as he walked through the center of the street. Some townspeople were about, carrying on their own business. The two men could see the entrance to the square that they would have to cross to reach their destination. Ostinus knew what Elberon wanted to stop for. When reaching the open square he stopped and regarded the busy scene and his priest friend stopped beside him, rope in hand, holding the mule in tow.

  The square was lively this day and the people of Lunemire active. It was about midday, and the sun was overhead. In the center of the square was a fountain. It was quite remarkable, a stone centurion with the upper body of a man and body of a horse. The figure was blowing a horn. Water spewed from the end of the horn into a basin around the mighty stone beast. To the right of the fountain were several merchants and shops, with many people walking about conducting business or just browsing. Roads led from all sides and corners of the square.

  Ostinus once again lead the way. As they passed directly across the square, he dipped his hand into the water of the great fountain and turned back to Elberon. As the priest approached, water splashed on his robe. The priest snickered at his friend, who held his hand ready to splash again, but Elberon put hands up defensively, not enjoying the game.

  Ostinus smiled then ran his soaked hand through his thick brown hair. “Let’s hurry this up…no long prayers and hymns of praise,” he said, mocking the priest. The group continued on and entered the street at the opposite corner of the square. They walked the street another quarter mile and stopped in front of a magnificent building. It was fit in tight amongst bordering buildings, but was twice as high as them. Two columns of marble ran down each side of the main entrance. The double doors were made of thick cherry wood with brass handles and hinges. At the top was a large dome with several clear windows around it. This was a temple of Phelios powerful god of the sun, to whom Elberon had devoted his life.

  The order of Phelios was one of the oldest religious sects of the land. Followers of the sun god lived a life appreciative of the power and gifts that the sun brings. Elberon Per Fiin had been serving and studying the god for five years. He had begun his tutelage serving the ceremonies and completing great studies of religious and philosophical books. Once being ordained to priesthood after three years of service, both Elberon’s powers and duties had grown.

  He handed the mule off to Ostinus and walked up to the double doors. “I’ll be but a few moments. Try not to have such a miserable look on your face if you’re going to wait near this temple.”

  “I won’t, since I don’t plan to have to wait very long.” Ostinus replied with a fake smile crossing his face inside his goatee.

  The priest pulled the right door of the temple open and stood in the doorway for a second, the sun causing his shadow to elongate in the entrance as the door slowly moved. The inside of the temple was very ornately decorated. The windows in the great dome allowed the sun to pour in, paying homage to the god of the celestial orb. The immediate sides of the temple were lined with small statues, plants and paintings, with areas to sit for prayer and reflection. Young members of the order were about in preparation of the late afternoon service that would occur. Elberon walked slowly up the middle aisle of the temple. At the far end was a raised altar that sat basking in the rays flowing from the dome’s massive center window. Light reflected brilliantly off the altar and cast dancing reflections throughout the sanctuary.

  As he approached the altar, Elberon took a knee and pulled from his robe a pendant that he wore on a chain around his neck. It was a golden amulet of the sun casting forth rays. The priest put it to his mouth as he muttered the words to a prayer. After sitting a moment, he felt eyes upon him.

  “Well met Brother Elberon,” said another priest wearing a white robe with a large golden sun on the chest. The robe glowed immaculately as if light reflected stronger off it then any other material. His white hair was
cut short, his tan face cleanly shaven.

  “Phelios be with you Your Holiness,” Elberon responded, rising to his feet then dipping in a bow to the High Priest of the temple. Bentinis was the only High Priest of the order of Phelios in the city of Lunemire. Elberon did not expect to see the man on his brief visit to the house of worship. “I travel out again today but have stopped to offer prayer, I will be back in less than a ten-day to assist with the service,” Elberon remarked. He often offered the religious celebrations at this temple, sometimes serving or assisting Bentinis.

  “Very well” Bentinis said, “take this for your travels and appreciate the power of our god as his glory is cast upon you during the day.” He motioned his hand forward and held a small vile containing water. It was no ordinary water, but holy water blessed by the High Priest himself. Elberon looked from the vile to the face of the High Priest, then accepted the holy water and put it in a pouch on his belt. Bentinis nodded and then made his way around the altar to a small elaborate table with several bowls and a couple of lit incense cones. He then began his preparations for the coming ceremony. Elberon looked up to the windows in the dome and let the sun hit his face as he stood reflecting. The priest then quickly glanced back at the door. He had to go. Ostinus stood outside, waiting impatiently and they had business to attend to.

  ***

  Mogar tapped his large fingers impatiently against the table as he waited for one of his officers. At times he did not know who he liked working with less, orcs or the pathetic goblins. His bloodshot eyes wandered over to the poor form that sat in the chair across the room. A wicked grin appeared on Mogar’s round ogre face. In the chair, gagged and bound at the hands and feet, sat a dwarf. He was beaten badly and one eye was completely swollen closed. The guards who had bound him had cut part of his beard raggedly with their daggers, a true insult to the proud dwarven people. The stocky prisoner could barely find the strength to match the ogre’s stare with his one open eye.

  Finally the door opened and two large orcs and a goblin entered. They approached Mogar at the table and stopped to regard the dwarf. Smiles went wide on all three of their faces as they looked upon the helpless captive. “We’re prepared for the next move, whatever it is,” said the larger orc, his voice loud and deep and his accent on the common language strong.

  Nervously, the lone goblin took a step back and leaned on the spear he carried. He was about five feet tall, which was large for his race. His skin was a darker green than many goblins and his nose pointier. Although he was the leader of a large contingent of his goblin kin, he rarely felt comfortable around either the unpredictable orcs or the massive ogre captain. Mogar rose from his seat and stood about ten feet tall. He was nearly twice as wide as each of the orcs. His head was naturally bald like most ogres.

  The larger orc, Bolwrath, was his top commander and had recently carried out his latest victory against a small scouting group of dwarves within the nearby tunnels. He was a nasty creature with a reputation for his lack of mercy. The other orc was a soldier within Bolwrath’s core group of officers. Orcs were significantly smaller than ogres, but normally larger than humans in both height and frame. Their faces were more animalistic than humans. Flatter pig-like snouts and tusks from their lower row of teeth made the difference between man and orc very obvious. There skin was a range of colors like men, but not the same colors. Their skin could be anywhere from dark maroon to grey to a green similar to the pale color of ogres or the darker color of goblins.

  Mogar and his comrades kept their current stronghold in a series of tunnels and caves that were at the eastern base of an immense mountain pass called The Singrin Peaks. The mountain range was the largest in this region of Herridon. While their stronghold was not near the dwellings of the mountain living dwarves, the ogre and his troops often pushed aggressively into the borders of the dwarven tunnels. It was the only way they could get access to the mountain’s finest resources such as fine iron, copper, and even gold. Further from the mountains to the east, throughout the rolling hills and up to the beginning of a large woodland area called Lirrorwick Forest, were the rest of the motley tribes of ogres, goblins, orcs and even giant folk. Normally these groups roamed alone in their tribes or bands; however they had recently joined together, which was something that had never been done before in all of Herridon.

  “We must continue to establish our presence in the mountains,” the ogre said as he turned back and his beady nearly black eyes regarded the dwarf. “Continue into the mines a bit further, securing access to the valuable iron there.”

  Bolwrath began to rub his leather-gloved hands together as he still rejoiced in the memories of his last victory. “Shall we advance further once the mines here are taken?” The orc commander asked eagerly, hoping the answer was affirmative.

  “No,” replied Mogar to Bolwrath’s dismay “after all, I’ve been instructed from my superiors that we are not trying to take the dwarven nation entirely, but just have them share some of the wealth that comes from the mountain,” the ogre continued in a sarcastic tone. After hearing the statement the dwarf tried to speak out, but could only mumble into his gag. A tusk protruded from Bolwrath’s mouth as he grinned at the prisoner’s pathetic muffled sounds. The dwarf had wandered a little too far from his scouting pack.

  Mogar took a few steps toward the goblin and regarded the creature who clearly feared the volatile ogre. He truly did hate goblin folk but understood their use as warriors…or fodder. “We send emissaries to the human city of Lunemire tomorrow. They will know about our growing power and understand us to not be a threat to them. We will try and open trade routes with their city, however I expect we will not be received warmly.” The massive ogre said confidently. Mogar stepped forward again, towering above the goblin who tried his hardest to appear unafraid.

  “They will be wise to respect us though,” he said and paused as he lifted his hand towards the trembling goblin who sensed his own doom, “cause those who oppose us will suffer!” His voice boomed to a scream as he grabbed the goblin’s spear. The creature cowered away thinking itself in peril, however Mogar spun quickly and hurled the spear with great strength. Its point smashed through the breastbone of the poor dwarf and lodged halfway into the back of the chair in which he sat tied up. The impact knocked the chair and its occupant backwards. A puddle of blood began to surround the dwarf. The two orcs, and the ogre laughed in delight at the site of their now dead adversary, except for the goblin commander, who giggled mostly out of relief that the attention was no longer on him.

  Chapter 2

  Trying not to cause any discomfort to the mule, Elberon shuffled the shield that was nearly centered on the animals back. Their cargo was balanced on top of the shield. He shook his head and spun to face Ostinus, “Did you need to burden this creature further by bringing your shield?” The priest, hands on his hips, asked staring at his friend with an incredulous expression.

  “There is no need for the item, and if you feel there is, perhaps you should carry it yourself,” a smile then widened within his short blond beard as he was speaking in jest. “You know that I would protect you if we found trouble on our journey.” The priest said in a degrading tone.

  Ostinus stood from his shaded seat under a tree and brushed some dirt and twigs off his shorts. “At least you’d be good for something. Damn its hot today,” he mumbled as he walked by his robed friend back into the blaring sun. When passing, the priest held his hand up over Ostinus’s head and whispered a prayer to his god Phelios. The air swirled with energy near his hand and Ostinus felt the magic’s touch. Elberon’s hand slowly returned to his side and the cleric nodded to his friend who looked around nervously.

  Ostinus grimaced at the priest then closed his eyes and looked towards the sun, letting the rays bathe his face. He felt the energy of the divine magic. The sun was extremely strong still, but he could not feel it. There was no more heat, just a refreshed sensation as a result of the spell. He could not deny how relieved he was from having
to cope with the discomfort of the heat.

  “Thanks, that will certainly keep me from being so moody on our trip.” Ostinus said calmly. The spell was from a simple enough prayer, although priests of the sun god often did not like to demean the power of the sun. The two men and the cargo loaded mule continued on their journey.

  Ostinus and Elberon made their living trading goods between the citizens of Lunemire and a large city burrowed in mountains to the northwest. The mountain range was called The Singrin Peaks and was home to the industrious dwarven civilization of Orzalar. The stout bearded folk mined metals from the mountain and forged valuable items in their great subterranean furnaces. Dwarves were renowned for their craft and their goods were always in high demand throughout Herridon. The people of Lunemire would give wish lists to Ostinus and Elberon, which often contained items ranging from precious dinnerware to sturdy weapons. A nice profit was skimmed from the top for their efforts, such as the one they would enjoy from old Martley as a result of this trip. The trek to the mountains was far and at times dangerous, but the existence of such peril is what enabled them to charge the fees they did. The two men also brought goods from the people of Lunemire to the dwarves. Although dwarves normally didn’t have much of an interest in human merchandise, they sometimes found certain items appealing. Ostinus found most of the clientele since trading goods was the sole means by which he made his living. Elberon had other responsibilities to his religious order that occupied his time.

  Of course neither Elberon nor Ostinus looked lightly upon the hardships of the road, primarily the danger of encountering highwaymen and raiders. There was always the threat of bandits or even roaming orcs and goblins who preyed upon humans who travelled outside of the three cities by the South Sea. Together, however, Ostinus and Elberon were formidable opponents and would usually overcome such obstacles…but now always. Twice they were forced to hand over their goods and money in exchange for their lives. On one of these occasions the robbers were humans and the other time orcs. Both times they were mercifully released when they could have easily been killed. Although when robbed by the orcs, they were tied tightly together and then left alone. It took Ostinus and Elberon almost a day to get free, but they eventually managed it. For raiders on the open road, killing traders was bad business. After all, a dead merchant never trades again, and thus cannot be robbed once more.