The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)
1. The Reaper of Luxenal
Chapter one
The Reaper of Luxenal
T he sharp metallic crack of the prisoners’ chains created a deafening echo. A building orchestra, backed up by scratching pickaxes in craggy earth, as the rain poured in a deluge. There were few incidents that could halt operations at Luxenal Copper Mine. The weather was not one of them.
High above the open cast, figures cloaked in shadow observed the prisoners suffering, safe in their warm alcoves. Behind one of the reinforced windows was a woman dressed in all black. She sipped from a glass of whiskey. Fresh, non-melting ice shards clinked a soft melody against the crystal. Her eyes drifted from the melee below, to the cloud drenched sky where the weak sun edged closer to the horizon.
She’d kept them waiting long enough.
Straightening the copper cuffs at her wrists, she tied her hair into a knot to keep it safely out of the way. She’d made the mistake of leaving it loose only once before, and nearly lost her own life to her vanity in the process. She still bore a thin raised scar on her neck as a reminder to never be so foolish again.
Slowly, she rose from her perch by the window, reaching for the hip holster laying on the edge of her desk. Buckling it tight as she crossed the room to wrench the door open. It stuck for a moment, becoming trapped in its frame that had swollen with perpetual damp, before finally releasing, allowing her to exit into the hall.
She’d spent two long years in the claustrophobic dark of Luxenal Mine, growing familiar with all its twists, turns and horrors. With one last right turn, she sauntered into the dank, open space of the entryway.
“They were expecting you a while ago.” A small voice squeaked from the corner.
She froze. Lip curling as she turned, taking slow, purposeful steps toward the meek, brown-haired girl.
“Repeat that,” she snarled, slamming a hand down on the desk, leaning in close. The girl jumped as the sound reverberated around the room, the papers she clutched scattered to the floor, her gaze falling with them.
“Fetch my cloak.” She flicked her chin toward the closest behind the girl.
“Of course, right away,” she stammered, flying from her chair with such panicked speed that it clattered to the ground behind her. When she returned, her eyes were glassy, chest heaving as her hand shook where she held the cloak. And the woman thought she saw the nervous flutter of the girl’s heartbeat at her neck as she snatched it from her grasp.
“Next time you want to test giving out orders, don’t choose someone with the authority to have you in chains before sundown.” She flung the cloak around her shoulders in one swift movement, narrowly missing the girl’s face, as she strode for the doorway. The tarnished copper handles were cool against the warmth of her palm as she flung the doors wide open to stride out into the downpour.
The great open cast lay before her, like the charred maw of an ancient beast of legend. To the left was a stage. Dissin Sellen, the Commander of Luxenal Mine, stood atop it, surrounded by a hoard of guards. He grimaced at the sight of her.
“All rise for Her Royal Highness, Solveig Aila of House Maleen. Princess of Torrelin, High Inquisitor of Luxenal Copper Mine, Master of Hydromancy.”
Mud splashed Solveig’s boots, leaving a pattern of russet speckles in its wake as she strode up to the makeshift stage.
“Commander Sellen.” She spoke in a monotone, over the din of the prisoners’ tools.
Two guards came up the steps behind her, dragging a prisoner with them. She faced the inmate as they chained him to a set of hooks on the stage, before her gaze slid back to the commander’s.
“Charges?”
“Dereliction of duty and conspiring against the crown.” Solveig’s eyes gleamed. The wind blew slick tendrils of hair across her face as she spoke. “Connall of House Kano, you heard the charges. How do you plead?”
He didn’t speak, only turned his gaze to meet hers.
“Your charges carry the penalty of death, Mr Kano. Should you choose not to speak in your own defence, I will have to judge you based solely on the information available to me.”
Silence.
Time stretched.
Solveig’s impatience grew thinner as she flexed her hands, and the blue gems set in her cuffs glowed. “Have you lost your ability to speak, Mr Kano? Nod your head and I’ll send for ink and paper for you to scribe your defence instead.”
Stillness, and with it the last thread of her patience snapped. The gems in her cuffs became blinding as her hand collided with his body. Pain akin to a whipping lanced across his chest. His screams reverberated around the mine.
“So, you do still have a voice,” she sneered, eyes glittering as she travelled down deep to that roiling part of her soul where her power lived.
The lines about the man’s face crumpled in agony, his screams grew louder, desperate. His cheeks hollowed, lips chapped and bleeding as his skin pulled tight. The wooden panels beneath them grew slick with a liquid that came not from the heavens above, but from within him.
Solveig’s eyes opened, pupils dilated, sweat beading on her forehead despite the rain as she withdrew her hand.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Mr Kano.” She sighed, head shaking. “But if you leave me no choice, then I will do what I must.”
Connall gasped, chest rattling with every exhale as he spoke in a cracked voice from his arid throat. “Horseshit, you thrive off it.” He coughed, grimacing from the pain of his skin and muscles stretched tight over bone. The agony of his internal organs slowly desiccating. “The screams feed your power.” His eyes narrowed as venom dripped with every word. “You and your kin deserve to rot in the deepest, darkest pit. I pray death befalls the elementals, the Crown and all else who enable your reign of terror.”
Solveig remained stoic, for she had been called far worse, but she couldn’t let the slight go unpunished. “An impassioned speech, Mr Kano, but I’m afraid you have merely signed your own death warrant.”
A mask of indifference slid firmly over Solveig’s face. No one spoke, no one moved, no one tried to stop her. “I Solveig Maleen, High Inquisitor of Luxenal Copper Mine, hereby sentence you, Connall of House Kano, to death. But I want everyone to see.” She gripped his hair tight. “That when I could have tortured you, drawn every drop of liquid from you, instead I showed you mercy.”
Yanking his head back, allowing their eyes to meet once more, she gripped a jewelled dagger. Releasing it in a single fluid movement, to draw the sharp-edged blade across his exposed neck. Watching as his blood spilled. Impassive, as the life slowly drained from his eyes. Until she threw his still body to the ground at her feet, wiping his blood from her dagger on the rags of his clothes.