Diviner’s Prophecy
By Nicolette Andrews
Copyright 2013 by Nicolette Andrews
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Nadica Boskovska
Formatting by Polgarus Studio
Table of Contents
Forward
Cast of Characters
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Afterword
Diviner’s Curse: Excerpt
Other Works by the Author
Forward
I’d like to thank first of all, my sister, Melissa, for her tireless efforts in getting me to complete this story and second of all my patient husband for his continued understanding. Thank you to my wonderful beta readers, Wendy and Rey, to Nadica for her gorgeous cover and Pauline for her superb editing skills. I also want to thank you, dear reader for picking up this story.
Cast of Characters
House Florett
Damara Florett—Dowager Duchess of House Florett; Maea’s Foster Mother; Mother of Layton Florett
Johai—Companion to Damara
Maea—Unofficial heir to House of Diranel; diviner
Hilliard—Head guard to Damara Florett
Layton Florett—Duke of Florett
Earvin—a guard in Damara’s household
The Royal Family
Dallen Raleban—King of Danhad; wed to Idella Raleban
Idella Raleban—Queen of Danhad; wed to Dallen Raleban of House Florett
Sarelle Raleban—Princess of Danhad; daughter of Dallen and Idella; political hostage in Neaux
Florian Ilore—Princess of Danhad; Sister to Dallen Raleban; wife of Duke Ilore
Duke Ilore—Husband to Florian Ilore; Father of Adair Raleban; (deceased)
Adair Raleban—Prince of Danhad; Son of Florian and Duke Ilore; Duke of House Ilore; heir to the throne
Edalene Ilore—Princess of Danhad; Daughter of Florian Ilore
Garrison Slatone—Prince of Danhad; Duke of Slatone; brother of Dallen Raleban and Florian Ilore; (deceased)
Members of the Twelve Great Houses
Algernon Magdale—Duke of House Magdale; former advisor to the King
Mikel Wodell—Duke of House Wodell; Husband to Isabelle Wodell; maintainer of Blackthorn
Isabelle Wodell—Duchess of House Wodell
Count Braun—Count of Braun (House Nanore)
Lady Braun—Daughter of Count Braun
Lord Thelron—Lord of Thelron (House Quince)
Odette Thelron—Daughter of Lord Thelron; lady in waiting to Sabine De’ Aux
Vian Thelron—Daughter of Lord Thelron; lady in waiting to Sabine De’ Aux
Princess Sabine’s Household
Sabine D’ Aux—Princess of Neaux; political hostage
Beau—Sabine’s De’ Aux’s guard
Lord Amelle—Neaux Ambassador to Danhad
Jerauch
Johen Malchor—Jerauchian Ambassador to Danhad
Great Lady Hana—Daughter of the Jerauchian regent; High Priest to the order of Mrawa
Others
Gareth—Court Magiker and healer
Jon Sixton—Son of a merchant; heir to house Sixton
Darton—Head guard to Idella Raleban
Torello—A prison guard
The Twelve Great Houses
House of Raleban—Royal house
House of Ilore
House of Slatone
House of Florett
House of Wodell
House of Sixton
House of Magdale
House of Nanore
House of Quince
House of Delonty
House of Hiloth
House of Tantorell
House of Diranel—former 13th house
Prologue
Armor gleamed beneath the noonday sun. Soldiers, grim mouths set, marched in time. Their rhythmic footsteps became a beating drum that pounded in my ears. Blue banners with silver trees upon them snapped in the wind. I held up my hands, and they were those of a warrior, calloused and scarred. Without realizing it, I had become one of them. The sky overhead was blood red. I was no warrior, and the scent of iron in the air sent me into a panic. I must escape, I thought, I do not belong here. If I were better prepared, I would not have made such a foolish detour.
The procession halted, and a king stepped forth on a platform looming over our heads, both separate and superior. He wore blue and silver and stretched out his bejeweled hand; he pointed into the distance where another army awaited, bedecked in red and gold. The enemy must be destroyed—foreign thoughts invaded my mind. The bloodlust overwhelmed my reason, a deadly mistake. I could not get lost in this reality. If I let these thoughts take over, I would never get out.
The men shouted and surged forward like a wave. The opposing army mirrored our cries and poured down the hill to meet us. I lost myself in the madness as we crashed upon one another with a ringing clang of metal and grunts. Men fell around me as I swung my sword, the shining blade sinking into the flesh of my adversaries.
I removed my sword and saw the face of my enemy, not a monster but a young man, not much more than a boy. The barest shadow of hair adorned his upper lip.
I let my sword arm drop and gazed about me. They were all men, many just out of adolescence, dying with pikes in their bellies and entrails spilled out on the blood-soaked dirt. The boy fell at my feet, his eyes dimming with death. A comrade or a foe, I could not be certain any longer, cleaved a man’s skull in half. Blood splattered my face, and I felt as if I would retch. I must escape this nightmare, I thought. The pained calls of the dying filled my ears, and their twisted faces overpowered my vision. It hurt. I felt their dying moments as if they were my own. Why this waste? I thought. Why this destruction?
When everything became too unbearable, driving me to the brink of mental endurance, the vision ended. I was alone with nothing but a black abyss. I blinked in the darkness, the clinging vapors of my vision clouding my present. That was not reality, I had to remind myself, but a reflection of the past. I turned in place, and a light grew on the horizon, and from it a line of people emerged. They stretched into the distance, women of different heights and shapes. One thing bound them together, and that was their ebony hair and violet eyes. They were my ancestors, the diviners who preceded me. Women who, like me, sought to sift through the sands of time, but unlike me, these women did not seek their own past.
As they passed me by, they reached out to me as if to give me strength for what was to come next. Their combined l
ove and strength uplifted me, and I knew I could carry on.
“Just a little further, the answers are just beyond your reach,” they seemed to be telling me.
Abruptly, the procession halted. I faced the last in the line. One by one, the women before her toppled over until only she remained standing. My mother smiled a sad, tired smile. As I reached for her, she crumbled to dust. I let the sand slip through my fingers. I ached for her, the woman I had never known. I needed her now more than ever. What advice would she give me if any?
From the darkness my mother left behind, four flickering lights emerged. As they took shape, they became four white candles set to the north, east, south and west. The scene expanded as if I watched from above. They revealed a cave and a figure kneeling in the circle of light. Again this was not the image I sought, though one that had haunted my nightmares for a very long time.
The night was still but for the echo of the wind in the distance. The figure spoke in a language I did not know. Resonating and bouncing off the walls, the tone grew with power, and I felt the tingle of expectation on my skin.
The white face of death, hollow eyes gleaming beneath a pallid, bony mask, glided forward into the candlelight, appearing to consist of nothing more than mist. The kneeling figure, a boy with hair like spun gold, raised his head to the apparition. Shadow concealed the boy’s features. I leaned closer in hopes of finally seeing his face.
Although the masked apparition spoke in a different language, I understood its words. “You summoned me?”
The boy shifted, and his curtain of golden hair parted. The dim candlelight revealed only the barest silhouette of his profile. This boy was tied with me, I knew, but how? I felt trapped in a riddle without a solution. I edged forward, hoping this time would be the time his identity would be revealed, but before I could get a glimpse of him, a high, cold laugh cut through my consciousness, and the image was lost.