A Crown for Assassins

Morgan Rice is the #1 bestselling and USA Today bestselling author of the epic fantasy series THE SORCERER’S RING, comprising seventeen books; of the #1 bestselling series THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS, comprising twelve books; of the #1 bestselling series THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY, a post-apocalyptic thriller comprising three books; of the epic fantasy series KINGS AND SORCERERS, comprising six books; of the epic fantasy series OF CROWNS AND GLORY, comprising 8 books; of the new epic fantasy series A THRONE FOR SISTERS, comprising eight books (and counting); and of the new science fiction series THE INVASION CHRONICLES. Morgan’s books are available in audio and print editions, and translations are available in over 25 languages.

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“If you thought that there was no reason left for living after the end of THE SORCERER’S RING series, you were wrong. In RISE OF THE DRAGONS Morgan Rice has come up with what promises to be another brilliant series, immersing us in a fantasy of trolls and dragons, of valor, honor, courage, magic and faith in your destiny. Morgan has managed again to produce a strong set of characters that make us cheer for them on every page.…Recommended for the permanent library of all readers that love a well-written fantasy.”

“An action packed fantasy sure to please fans of Morgan Rice’s previous novels, along with fans of works such as THE INHERITANCE CYCLE by Christopher Paolini…. Fans of Young Adult Fiction will devour this latest work by Rice and beg for more.”

“A spirited fantasy that weaves elements of mystery and intrigue into its story line. A Quest of Heroes is all about the making of courage and about realizing a life purpose that leads to growth, maturity, and excellence….For those seeking meaty fantasy adventures, the protagonists, devices, and action provide a vigorous set of encounters that focus well on Thor's evolution from a dreamy child to a young adult facing impossible odds for survival….Only the beginning of what promises to be an epic young adult series.”

“THE SORCERER’S RING has all the ingredients for an instant success: plots, counterplots, mystery, valiant knights, and blossoming relationships replete with broken hearts, deception and betrayal. It will keep you entertained for hours, and will satisfy all ages. Recommended for the permanent library of all fantasy readers.”

“In this action-packed first book in the epic fantasy Sorcerer's Ring series (which is currently 14 books strong), Rice introduces readers to 14-year-old Thorgrin "Thor" McLeod, whose dream is to join the Silver Legion, the elite knights who serve the king…. Rice's writing is solid and the premise intriguing.”

THE INVASION CHRONICLES

TRANSMISSION (Book #1)

ARRIVAL (Book #2)

THE WAY OF STEEL

ONLY THE WORTHY (Book #1)

A THRONE FOR SISTERS

A THRONE FOR SISTERS (Book #1)

A COURT FOR THIEVES (Book #2)

A SONG FOR ORPHANS (Book #3)

A DIRGE FOR PRINCES (Book #4)

A JEWEL FOR ROYALS (Book #5)

A KISS FOR QUEENS (Book #6)

A CROWN FOR ASSASSINS (Book #7)

A CLASP FOR HEIRS (Book #8)

OF CROWNS AND GLORY

SLAVE, WARRIOR, QUEEN (Book #1)

ROGUE, PRISONER, PRINCESS (Book #2)

KNIGHT, HEIR, PRINCE (Book #3)

REBEL, PAWN, KING (Book #4)

SOLDIER, BROTHER, SORCERER (Book #5)

HERO, TRAITOR, DAUGHTER (Book #6)

RULER, RIVAL, EXILE (Book #7)

VICTOR, VANQUISHED, SON (Book #8)

KINGS AND SORCERERS

RISE OF THE DRAGONS (Book #1)

RISE OF THE VALIANT (Book #2)

THE WEIGHT OF HONOR (Book #3)

A FORGE OF VALOR (Book #4)

A REALM OF SHADOWS (Book #5)

NIGHT OF THE BOLD (Book #6)

THE SORCERER’S RING

A QUEST OF HEROES (Book #1)

A MARCH OF KINGS (Book #2)

A FATE OF DRAGONS (Book #3)

A CRY OF HONOR (Book #4)

A VOW OF GLORY (Book #5)

A CHARGE OF VALOR (Book #6)

A RITE OF SWORDS (Book #7)

A GRANT OF ARMS (Book #8)

A SKY OF SPELLS (Book #9)

A SEA OF SHIELDS (Book #10)

A REIGN OF STEEL (Book #11)

A LAND OF FIRE (Book #12)

A RULE OF QUEENS (Book #13)

AN OATH OF BROTHERS (Book #14)

A DREAM OF MORTALS (Book #15)

A JOUST OF KNIGHTS (Book #16)

THE GIFT OF BATTLE (Book #17)

THE SURVIVAL TRILOGY

ARENA ONE: SLAVERSUNNERS (Book #1)

ARENA TWO (Book #2)

ARENA THREE (Book #3)

VAMPIRE, FALLEN

BEFORE DAWN (Book #1)

THE VAMPIRE JOURNALS

TURNED (Book #1)

LOVED (Book #2)

BETRAYED (Book #3)

DESTINED (Book #4)

DESIRED (Book #5)

BETROTHED (Book #6)

VOWED (Book #7)

FOUND (Book #8)

RESURRECTED (Book #9)

CRAVED (Book #10)

FATED (Book #11)

OBSESSED (Book #12)

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Copyright © 2018 by Morgan Rice. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

Sophia stood before the Assembly and tried not to feel overwhelmed by the splendor of it all, or by everything that was due to happen today. Around her, nobles stood in the kind of finery that had kept Ashton’s tailors and dressmakers busy for weeks, while soldiers stood in their finest dress uniforms.

It wasn’t just the nobility, of course. The Assembly of Nobles was an assembly of everybody now, with common folk on its benches, dressed in whatever they’d been able to find for the occasion.

“I feel underdressed,” Sophia said to Kate, who gave Sophia her arm to lean on. Her dress of simple white seemed almost plain beside the gold and the jewels, the silks and the brocade, and even after adjustments by the city’s dressmakers, it still strained to cover the swell of her pregnancy. Beside her, Sienne, her forest cat, pushed against her with a gentle purr.

“It’s your wedding day,” Kate said. “You are by definition the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Our wedding day,” Sophia pointed out, although someone watching wouldn’t have known it from looking at her sister. Kate was in military uniform, and Sophia doubted that anyone had dared to suggest a wedding dress.

“There’s just the small matter of your coronation to take care of first,” Kate said with a smile.

Sophia took a careful breath, feeling the child within her move as she did. That made her smile. All these weeks, and it was still hard to believe that she would be a mother soon.

“Ready?” Kate asked.

Sophia nodded. “I’m ready.”

Kate led her outside, and the cheers of the waiting crowds hit Sophia in a wall of sound. There were so many people there. Sophia could hear them, and feel the presence of their thoughts around her. She could feel a mental message of joy from those with gifts like hers seeping through the rest of it, though there were few enough of those.

“I wish Cora and Emeline could be here,” Sophia said.

“They’ll be back once they persuade Stonehome’s leaders to come out of hiding again,” Kate assured her.

Sophia had half expected them to stay after the battle with one of their own on the throne.

I’d thought they would stay, Sophia sent to her sister.

Kate shrugged. They’re used to hiding, and most of them have lives in Stonehome. Cora and Emeline will get them back. Now come on, your carriage is waiting.

It was, and the idea that she would be processing to her wedding in a gilded carriage was almost enough to make Sophia laugh. If anyone had told her that this would be her wedding when she was growing up, she wouldn’t have believed them. Still, the carriage was necessary. Sophia wasn’t sure that she would be able to make the journey down to the city’s main square on foot at the moment without arriving exhausted, so she and Kate mounted their carriage, four white horses drawing it at a stately trot, while all the members of the Assembly followed behind, cheering their support.

If only they could be that united when they’re debating, Sophia sent to Kate.

You’ve managed to get plenty done, Kate sent back. You must be doing something right.

Sophia wasn’t sure how much she’d achieved so far though. Oh, she’d made her declarations at the end of the battle for Ashton, and she hoped that she’d made life better for people, but life in the kingdom was complex. It seemed that for every proposal she made, there were a dozen objections, suggestions, recommendations.

Take the rebuilding of Ashton after the battle. If she looked out from her carriage, Sophia could see buildings in the midst of reconstruction, soldiers turned to laborers as they worked on the city, yet every day seemed to bring a fresh debate on whether this or that building was more appropriate, on who owned the land, or who should do the work now that indentured labor was no longer an option.

That’s one thing I have achieved, Sophia sent as they passed a group of men who wore their marks of ownership on bare calves, no one bothering them or trying to command them now that they were free. If I don’t do anything else, that will be enough.

I think you’ll do plenty more, Kate assured her.

Around them, the crowds continued to cheer. Music played here and there as street performers joined in the celebrations. Lord Cranston and his men marched in, joining the procession in perfect step as they headed toward the square. Someone threw something and Kate caught it, looking wary, but it was only a flower. Sophia laughed and tucked it in the short locks of her sister’s hair as best she could.

“I’m going to do something to make you look like a bride,” Sophia said.

“For that, shouldn’t we both be wearing masks?”

“No,” Sophia said firmly. That was one thing she had been clear on, for the same reason that none of this would be taking place inside the Church of the Masked Goddess, but in the square beyond instead.

That square was so tightly packed with people that it took soldiers to keep a clear space at its heart. There was a platform set there, festooned with silks, with a throne set upon it alongside an altar. The current high priestess of the Masked Goddess stood there, along with Sophia and Kate’s cousins Hans and Jan; Frig and Ulf were in the mountain lands, seeing to the rebuilding of Monthys, while Rika, Oli, and Endi were back in Ishjemme.

Lucas stood there too, resplendent in his silk robes, managing to look both delighted for his sisters and surprisingly restless all at once.

Do you get the feeling that he just wants to get all of this out of the way so that he can go look for our parents? Sophia sent to Kate.

So that we can look, Kate corrected her. It must be hard, waiting like this when he knows where to look now, and not even having the prospect of a wedding to pass the time.

If either of you thinks I am anything less than happy for you, Lucas sent to them both, then you are mistaken. I would not miss this day for anything. Are you ready to be queen, Sophia?

In answer to that, Sophia stepped down from the carriage and strode up to the stage while the crowd cheered. She turned to look around the people assembled there, feeling the joy from them, and the hope. She knew that they would expect her to speak.

“A few weeks ago, I took Ashton by force,” she said. “I made decisions as a queen because I had an army to back me. Then I went to the Assembly of Nobles and I put my case to them. They agreed to me being the queen because my blood gave me the right to it. Today, I am to be crowned, but neither of these things seems like enough. So I ask you this: will you have me for your queen?”

When the answering roar came, Sophia moved to the throne and seated herself upon it. Hans came forward with a crown, a delicate thing whose platinum and gold wires twined to seem like vines, jeweled flowers set along its circumference. He passed it to the high priestess of the Masked Goddess. This was one part of the ceremony Sophia could have done without, but if she was going to reunite all of Ashton, she had to show that she was willing to accept all of its people, including the Masked Church’s many followers.

“By the power vested in me by the Masked Goddess,” the high priestess said, then paused as though remembering that she should say more, “by the right of your blood, the authority of the Assembly, and… apparently, the will of the people, I name you Sophia, queen of this kingdom.”

The cheers as she set the crown on Sophia’s head were almost deafening. Sophia looked around at the smiling faces of the people she cared about, and she knew that there were very few things that could make her happier.

Except, of course, the wedding that was about to follow.

Sebastian stood in the entranceway of the Masked Goddess’s temple, wishing that he could have been out there with Sophia for the moment when she was crowned. That would have been one broken tradition too far, though, given what they were about to do.

“Nervous?” he asked Will, who was standing beside him in his soldier’s uniform. His family would be out there in the crowd somewhere. A part of Sebastian wished that his family were still around to see this moment, in spite of everything they’d done to the kingdom, to him, and to Sophia.

“Terrified,” Will assured him. “You?”

Sebastian smiled. “I’m happy that this is happening at all, after everything that went before.”

Trumpets sounded, signaling his cue to move forward and finally wed the woman he loved. He moved through the crowd, his outfit as simple as Sophia’s, a second half to make a whole. The people stepped aside for him, and Sebastian still found himself a little surprised by the goodwill they seemed to have for him in spite of all the rumors that had been started about him and in spite of everything his family had done over the years.

He stepped up onto the platform and dropped to one knee, his head bowed in acknowledgment of his newly crowned queen. Sophia laughed and stood, pulling him to his feet.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “You don’t ever have to bow to me.”

“I do though,” Sebastian said. “I want people to see that this is your kingdom. That you are the queen.”

“And soon you will be my king beside me,” Sophia said. She looked as though she wanted to kiss him, and Sebastian definitely wanted to kiss her, but that would have to wait.

The high priestess made a small sound of annoyance, as if to remind them that there was a wedding waiting.

“We are gathered today to witness the wedding of Queen Sophia of the House of Danse to Prince Sebastian of the House of Flamberg. They stand unmasked in the sight of the goddess, and before one another.”

It conveniently left out the part where neither of them had followed the traditional ceremony in the first place. Sebastian let it go. The fact that he was marrying the woman he loved was the only thing that mattered.

“Now,” the high priestess said. “Queen Sophia tells me that she wishes to say her own words at this point. Your Majesty?”

Sophia reached out to touch Sebastian’s face, and in that moment the crowd was quiet enough that the words carried over it on the breeze.

“When I first met you,” she said, “I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know where I fit into the world, or even if I could. I knew that I loved you, though. That part was a constant. That part hasn’t changed. I love you, Sebastian, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

It was Sebastian’s turn then, but he hadn’t prepared what he would say. He had thought that he would know when the time came, and, it turned out, he did.

“We’ve been through so much,” Sebastian said. “I have had moments when I thought that I had lost you, and moments when I knew that I did not deserve you. I tried to follow you beyond the kingdom, and in the end, you are the one who found me here. I love you, Sophia.” He paused for a moment and smiled. “I never thought that I would be the one marrying into royalty.”

The high priestess took their hands, placing them in one another. Sebastian’s heart pulsed with anticipation. Ordinarily, this would have been the moment when she pronounced them married, but that wasn’t the way Sophia wanted things.

Instead, the horns sounded again.

Kate looked out toward the entrance to the Church of the Masked Goddess, unable to contain her excitement much longer. Her sister getting both crowned and married would already have made this one of the best days of her life at any other time, but now, it felt as though she’d waited long enough. She watched with eager anticipation as Will stepped out.

Neither of them looked as regal as Sophia and Sebastian did, but that was fine by Kate. They were soldiers, not rulers. It was enough that Will was the same gorgeous boy she’d first seen when he’d come to visit his parents’ forge.

He marched down toward the platform, and halfway along his route, Lord Cranston and his men drew their swords, forming an arch of steel for Will to walk beneath. It made Kate glad to see it, and glad that they were all still alive after all the battles they’d fought.

Will came up onto the platform and Kate grabbed his hand for herself, not waiting for some withered old priestess to decide that it was time.

“When I first met you,” Will said, “I thought you were headstrong, stubborn, and probably likely to get both of us killed. I wondered what kind of wild girl had come into my parents’ forge. Now I know that you are all of those things, Kate, and it is just a part of what makes you so amazing. I want to be your husband until the stars grow so dull I can’t see you, or until I grow so dull I start to slow you down.”

“You don’t slow me down,” Kate replied. “My heart’s beating faster just looking at you, for one thing. I wish I could promise to settle down with you and to make things peaceful, but we both know that’s not the way that the world works. War can come even in the happiest times, and it’s not in my nature to stand by for it. Still, until blade or bow or just old age claims us, I want you to be mine.”

It wasn’t the traditional kind of promise, but it was what was in Kate’s heart, and she suspected that was the part that counted. The high priestess didn’t look particularly impressed, but from where Kate was standing, that was just an added bonus.

“Now that we have heard your own promises to one another, I ask you, Sophia of House Danse, do you take Sebastian of House Flamberg to be your husband?”

“I do,” Sophia said beside Kate.

“And do you, Kate of House Danse, take Will… son of Thomas the smith, to be your husband?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” Kate pointed out, trying not to laugh at the old woman’s inability to comprehend that someone born to a smith might not have a house name. “All right, all right, I do.”

“Do you, Sebastian of House Flamberg take Sophia of House Danse to be your wife?”

“I do,” Sebastian said.

“And do you Will take Kate of House Danse to be your wife?”

“I do,” he said, sounding happier than Kate suspected anyone had a right to be at the prospect of being joined to her for life.

“Then it is my pleasure to declare that you are one flesh, joined in the eyes of the goddess,” the priestess intoned.

But Kate didn’t hear her. By that point, she was far too busy kissing Will.

CHAPTER TWO

The Master of Crows watched his fleet with satisfaction as it sailed in to land on the northern coast of what had once been the Dowager’s kingdom. The invasion fleet was like a bloodstain on the water, the crows flying above in great flocks that seemed more like storm clouds.

Ahead lay a small fishing port, hardly a fitting start for his campaign, but after the time they’d spent at sea, it would be a welcome taste of things to come. The ships hung back, waiting for his signal, and the Master of Crows paused for a moment to appreciate the beauty of it all, the peace of the sunlit shore.

He waved a hand idly, and whispered, knowing that a hundred corvids would croak the words to his captains. “Let it begin.”

The ships started to move forward like the individual components of some beautiful machine of death, each one slotting into its allotted place as it moved toward the shore. The Master of Crows guessed that the captains would be vying to see who could perform their duties the most precisely, trying to please him with the obedience of their crews. They never seemed to learn that he cared about little except the death to follow.

“There will be death,” he murmured as one of his pets landed on his shoulder. “There will be enough death to drown the world.”

The crow cawed its agreement, as well it should. His creatures had been well fed in the last weeks, the deaths from the battle for Ashton still filling his coffers of power, even as fresh deaths flowed in from around the New Army’s empire every day.

“There will be more today,” he said with a grim smile as both soldiers and would-be soldiers lined up to defend their home on the shore.

Cannon sounded, the first shots echoing across the water, the crashes of their impact reverberating. Soon the air would be thick with smoke, so that he would be the only one able to see what was happening, thanks to his birds. Soon, his men would have to trust his orders absolutely.

“Tell the third company to swing wider,” he said to one of his aides. “It will prevent anyone from escaping up the coast.”

“Yes, my lord,” the young man replied.

“Have a landing boat prepared for me as well.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And remind the men of my orders: those who resist are to be killed without mercy.”

“Yes, my lord,” the aide said again.

As if the Master of Crows’ captains needed to be reminded. They knew his rules by now, his wishes. He sat on the deck of his flagship, watching cannonballs strike flesh, and men falling beneath the barrage of musket fire. Finally, he decided that the moment was ripe, and he made his way to the landing boat that was being lowered, checking his weapons as he went.

“Row,” he commanded the men there, and they strained against the oars, striving to get him to the shore along with his troops.

He held up a hand as his crows warned him, and the men stopped rowing in time for a ball shot from an aging cannon to strike the water in front of them.