The First Sentinel Read online

  THE FIRST SENTINEL

  JESSAMYN KINGLEY

  Copyright © 2018 Jessamyn Kingley

  All Rights Reserved

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing: Flat Earth Editing

  Cover Design: 2018 © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

  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 are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  16 AD

  Le’Terrius listened with rapt attention to the Arch Liches as they explained in detail their plan to create a race of assassins. They would be called sentinels; there would be one to each necromancer, and their souls would be bound to allow the men to know in a mere instant if their sorcerer was in danger. It did not sound bad to Le’Terrius’s ears, but he didn’t agree with every aspect. Arch Lich-mate Domitia—he was learning—was a vain woman who wished to have the sentinels in rapture of her.

  While her face and form were pleasing, she had a mate and therefore could only have the men worship her from afar. It seemed a ridiculous notion to Le’Terrius, and a plot began to form in his mind. They needed his assistance to generate more magical power and to recite the words—they had tried to cast the enchantment to create the sentinels alone and found themselves insensible and lying on the ground before it was complete. The pair of necromancers were willing to be generous with their coin, and so Le’Terrius would not refuse their unusual idea.

  It might be useful for the Order of Necromancia to have a race of men dedicated to their protection. This type of magickind was not popular; their ability to raise the dead was unnatural to most. But Le’Terrius could not live with himself if he helped to summon forth sentinels who were falling over themselves to please a silly woman more in love with herself than even her own mate. Since Arch Lich-mate Domitia was adamant the race would be only men, Le’Terrius would request Fate only match them with someone of their own gender. In addition, he would blind them to the attractiveness of anyone besides their partner, so they would not aim to please her.

  That would be a fine way to keep them from dancing to Domitia’s tune, he thought. Each man was set to serve a different necromancer; it would be a useless thing to have them chasing after her. His mind set, Le’Terrius feigned interest as the Arch Liches droned on. They had already written down the spell they wished to have cast and he was well able to read it. As an experienced sorcerer, he did not need the two to instruct him on each word. He might not understand every line, but since he was a warlock and used different languages than necromancers, he had anticipated some gap in knowledge. Le’Terrius was not about to waste time asking them for magic lessons.

  “Are you agreed, Le’Terrius?” Arch Lich Faustus asked. His gray eyes were stern, and he did not seem a friendly sort.

  “I will be happy to be of assistance.”

  Domitia’s eyes, paler than her mate’s but of the same hue shared by all their race, lit up. “I knew a man of your intelligence would see the beauty of our plan. It shall be a fine gift to all necromancers.”

  “They have agreed?”

  “Le’Terrius, we rule our people,” Faustus said in an uncompromising voice. “We need not ask their permission.”

  He could not imagine his own leaders, Grand Warlock T’Eirick and Grand Summoner Saura Leolinnia, carrying on in such a manner, but his race was ruled by a man and woman chosen by Fate. This pair was not. Le’Terrius wondered why Fate had never gifted the necromancers with a leader chosen by her. He hoped she did something to remedy the situation in the future, for he could not believe the Arch Liches were the best examples of their kind. “Very well. Shall we begin?”

  With a swish of her long black gown, Domitia strolled over to a chaise and lay down upon it. Faustus had another chair for his use and once they were settled, they began to chant the words that would create a race of men beholden to the Order of Necromancia. Le’Terrius added his voice and threw in all his vast power behind the spell. The room darkened with the wealth of black magic that swirled inside it, and Le’Terrius could see thin silver strings begin to emerge from the necromancers. In the center of the room, a crystalline device took shape. The voices of the Arch Liches dropped off, and Le’Terrius knew they were no longer aware of their surroundings. Their energy had been depleted and was still heavy in the air along with his own.

  He added the additional phrases he had crafted as a large gray ball rolled out of the mechanism that would forever bind a necromancer with a sentinel. It grew until it was a few inches taller than Le’Terrius. The gray orb became translucent, and Le’Terrius could see a man inside of it. As he continued to recite, the sphere vanished and the sentinel emerged. He was covered in a charcoal cloak, and the thin enchanted chain connecting him to the Arch Lich-mate disappeared moments after he materialized. She had been adamant the first assassin be her own, and it seemed their arduous work had been successful.

  Behind the covered man, another round globe hit the floor and this one grew much larger than the previous one. Like the first sentinel, when he came into view he was hidden under a dark garment from head to toe. Le’Terrius was exhausted from all the sorcery which had escaped him, and he knew that he no longer needed to cast. The device was churning out sentinels who would materialize for a moment before being sent off to the necromancer they were meant to protect. There was an entire race being scared out of their wits by assassins popping into their lives.

  “Welcome to life, gentlemen,” Le’Terrius said.

  A deep, smoky voice, which belonged to the initial man responded, “Thank you, warlock.”

  The device had been designed to give a name to each sentinel, so Le’Terrius asked, “By what name are you called?”

  That same voice answered first, “I am Albrecht.”

  “I am Arvandus,” the taller man replied.

  “Your necromancers will sleep for some time. The spell was most powerful.”

  “I sense their exhaustion,” Albrecht stated. “Yours as well.”

  “I feel a strange connection to Albrecht,” Arvandus said before whipping off his head covering. He was a handsome blond man with friendly blue eyes.

  “I sense something as well…though I have no knowledge of why I should feel it.” Albrecht’s unique voice sounded confused.

  “You have both just been resurrected. No doubt you are feeling the sickness associated with that,” Le’Terrius replied.

  “I have a sick feeling in my belly,” Arvandus remarked. “But that does not explain my connection to Albrecht.”

  Le’Terrius could only blame the tired feeling in his bones for not having known at once the connection the two must share. “I believe you are mates.”

  “I know not the meaning of that word,” Albrecht retorted, his tone full of suspicion.

  “Fate gifts each magickind with a person who is the other half of their soul. No doubt, that feeling will grow stronger as your bodies recover from the resurrection,” Le’Terrius explained. “I will warn you—the news might not be welcome from the Arch Lich-mate. Protect it as a secret until you can be sure she will not react unpleasantly. It is not the way of magickind to come between mates, but I am not friendly enough with the Arch Liches to know if they follow that sacred rule. Have you any more questions? I must return to my home to rest.”

  “I will await the Arch Lich for further inquiries,” Arvandus said. “Be well, warlock.”

  “I wish the same for you,” Le’Terrius stated before casting the spell that would send him home. He did not know if he had done the right thing, but the coin was welcome. Le’Terrius could only hope the sentinels were not spurned by the people they were meant to serve. With a yawn, he headed for his bedchamber. The assassins were now the responsibility of the Order of Necromancia, their fate intertwined with the sorcerers. Not bothering to undress, Le’Ter
rius laid his head upon his pillow as soon as he got to his room. He would sleep well after his exhausting work.

  * * *

  Arvandus lowered his body to the floor and propped his back against the stone wall. He watched as Albrecht did the same next to him. He was discovering he liked the feeling of being close to the other man.

  “I do not like this feeling of unease inside.”

  “I fear my body will expel my inner organs,” Arvandus replied. The sickness from the resurrection was intense, but it could not hide the joy bubbling in his veins from his apparent mate.

  “It is most unpleasant,” Albrecht agreed.

  “Do you believe the warlock’s words?” Arvandus asked. “That we are mates?”

  “I cannot say. I will need more information on the matter.”

  “You do feel a connection to me, do you not?”

  “I do.”

  Despite the roiling in his gut, Arvandus smiled. “Might I see your face?”

  Albrecht tugged his hood back and Arvandus’s breath caught. The sentinel’s face was incredible. He had hair which was both red and blond that lay in deep waves. His eyes were a crisp green and framed by lashes so long, they near reached his eyebrows. Over the bridge of his nose and cheeks, a spray of soft brown freckles decorated his pale skin. His mouth was a nice shape with his bottom lip being slightly fuller than the top.

  “I find your face very pleasing,” Arvandus told him.

  “I like yours as well.” Arvandus could not help but notice the man had two deep creases in his cheeks which flashed when he spoke.

  “I look forward to being well. I should like to train with my daggers.”

  Albrecht nodded. “It is our duty.”

  “You may be short of stature but are no doubt as deadly as I.”

  “I am the first sentinel,” Albrecht stated in his rumbling voice. “Perhaps there was not enough magic gathered to give me great height.”

  “I find the idea plausible.”

  “I hope to find our necromancers are honorable.”

  “They rule the Order of Necromancia,” Arvandus pointed out. “There is little doubt they will be admirable.”

  “The sentinels do not have a ruler. We will have to look to the Arch Liches to guide us.”

  “Our creation was their idea. They will not lead us astray.”

  Albrecht pressed farther back against the stone wall. “I do not wish to retch.”

  “I believe if you lay your head upon my lap, you would be most comfortable.”

  Twisting a little to face him, Albrecht raised an eyebrow. “I sense a feeling inside that I wish for the touch of only you.”

  “Sentinels do not welcome the touch of others. Therefore, I believe the warlock.”

  “We shall have to explore this idea of mates,” Albrecht said. His words might not have conveyed his belief in the fact that they were meant for one another, but he did turn his body and lay his head upon Arvandus’s lap.

  “Do not fear, Albrecht. I will not empty my innards upon you.” Arvandus lifted a hand and trailed it through the other sentinel’s hair.

  “I shall take my blade and apply the black poison that will mar your skin if you do.”

  A black poison on their daggers could cut a sentinel or any other soul lucky enough to be resurrected, but it was the green they would no doubt need the most. It was the poison deadly to anyone who was not summoned from the dead. That information had been imparted to his brain as he’d been brought to life. “Keep the green upon your dagger and rest easy.”

  “I hope my necromancer does not sleep long. I have a great desire to get to know her,” Albrecht said after closing his eyes.

  Arvandus continued to stroke the tresses of the other sentinel. “I am of the same mind.”

  “Your hands upon me feel nice.”

  “I am glad to know you, Albrecht.”

  “And I you.”

  Pressing his skull to the wall at his back, Arvandus let his lashes fall as he waited for his body to adjust to the life given to him by the two necromancers lying upon cushions. He had been called from the dead to serve as a soulbound assassin. Arvandus was incapable of shirking such a sacred duty, and he was eager to begin. A thrill raced over his skin at the thought of doing so with Albrecht at his side. Fate had been kind to give them a pair of necromancers to serve, and the future was bright indeed.

  Chapter 2

  “Van, it is the height of foolishness,” Albrecht said with a frown.

  “It has been several months since we were resurrected,” Arvandus argued. “I grow weary of sneaking into your bed each night. We are mates. It is past time we bind our blood.”

  “You are aware you hold my heart, but Domitia will not look upon our matebond with joy.”

  Arvandus scowled. “No one is supposed to come between mates.”

  “Domitia is happy to say that whenever a male is not around she wishes to toy with and yet, she flaunts her body each time a guest arrives,” Albrecht retorted. “She has been angry with us for not falling to our knees to worship her each day.”

  “It will not be as bad as you fear. She will no doubt be upset, but she will move past it in time.”

  Albrecht stared into the blue eyes of the man he loved and though he feared the repercussions, he wanted to unite their souls. The past months had been a trial dealing with the Arch Liches. It was Arvandus’s cheery countenance which gave Albrecht the strength he needed to endure the silly games the necromancers wished to play with everyone who came into their palace. “I will think on a decision.”

  Arvandus tugged him close and laid a soft kiss upon his lips. “Albrecht, we have waited for too long already.”

  “I do not enjoy telling you no.”

  “Then say yes.” Pulling away, Arvandus grabbed one of his glowing daggers and switched the poison from green to black.

  “It is nearly time to join the Arch Liches for the morning meal. You cannot mean to do this now.”

  “Now, Albrecht.”

  Arvandus opened his palm and sliced a cut across it. With a deep breath, Albrecht held out his hand. In a quick motion, his mate gave him a matching wound and pressed the injuries together. A warm feeling flooded Albrecht as his soul wrapped around the other sentinel’s. It was a moment of unbridled joy, and pleasure consumed him. Finally, he was complete.

  “I wish I knew the words mates should speak,” Arvandus whispered.

  “I will love you forever. Surely that will do.”

  With a grin that lit up his face, Arvandus leaned forward and brushed his lips across Albrecht’s smile. “Forever is what Fate has given us together. My love for you will never wane.”

  Albrecht raised his arms and wrapped them around Arvandus. He was held close for several minutes as they both delighted in the wonder of all it meant to be mates. Although he would have wished to stay this way until the end of time, they were expected to make an appearance each morning. With regret he said, “We must go.”

  “I have a deep need for you, but it will have to wait until after the sun retreats.”

  “As I have since the first time, I await the chance to join our bodies.”

  In a bold move, Arvandus took his hand and together they ventured to the room where they took their meals. Their presence was noted straight away.

  “My goodness, Faustus, our sentinels have been keeping secrets,” Domitia announced with a sly look toward the Arch Lich as the pair of sentinels reached the long table they were required to sit at with their necromancers.

  “Fate has her choice to match anyone, but I cannot stomach the idea of a man lying with another. Why would anyone not wish to lay with a woman?” Faustus asked with unconcealed revulsion.

  “It seems Le’Terrius took it upon himself to alter our spell. A punishment must be meted out for such an offense,” Domitia stated as she stood. Albrecht could feel a ball of tension forming in his gut. The Arch Liches were true sadists who used any excuse to punish a poor soul. It was, in Albrecht’s opinion, the reason they had created sentinels in the first place. Their people were malcontent, and rumors reached the palace almost daily by individuals beholden to them that they wished to unseat the pair.

  “The sentinels are unpopular. Surely it is the fault of Le’Terrius, though I have not heard of any mated pairs,” Faustus said as he too rose. Albrecht didn’t know how it was possible to have any other couples; all the other sentinels had been forced to retreat to a stronghold on a magical realm where they spent their days locked in cages. The necromancers had not appreciated the “gift” of their own assassins and had demanded something be done.