Red Prince Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Also by Jared Garrett

  Join the Garrish Army!

  Dedication

  Previously, in Lakhoni & Usurper

  Chapter 1: At Peace

  Chapter 2: Dance of Death and Fire

  Chapter 3: Flayed

  Chapter 4: Eyes of Red

  Chapter 5: Homeward Bound

  Chapter 6: Intentions

  Chapter 7: The Recently Dead

  Chapter 8: Two Ribbons

  Chapter 9: Cut Through

  Chapter 10: Hill People

  Chapter 11: Rain Dance

  Chapter 12: The Hidden

  Chapter 13: Skittering

  Chapter 14: Down the River

  Chapter 15: Breathe

  Chapter 16: Totem

  Chapter 17: Center

  Chapter 18: Trespassers

  Chapter 19: Temple of the Gods

  Chapter 20: The Guide and the Sword

  Chapter 21: Stolen

  Chapter 22: Black Powder

  Chapter 23: Sonti

  Chapter 24: Hand of the Gods

  Chapter 25: Fade

  Chapter 26: Curtain

  Chapter 27: Choose

  Chapter 28: Into the Mountain

  Chapter 29: Marker

  Chapter 30: Sword

  Chapter 31: The Guide

  Chapter 32: Red Prince

  Chapter 33: The head

  Chapter 34: Storms

  Chapter 35: North

  Epilogue: Guardian

  Glossary

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  RED PRINCE

  Text © 2019 Jared Garrett

  Cover Illustration © 2019 Jared Garrett

  Cover Illustration by the insanely talented Mikey Brooks www.mikeybrooks.com (He writes books too!)

  Developmental, substantial, and copy editing by Melissa Cox Meibos.

  Her website is right here: www.thenovelthing.com Thank you so much.

  Interior design by Mikey Brooks (and a little bit of Jared Garrett)

  Legal stuff:

  Literally every single right is reserved, fam. Don’t copy or reproduce any part of this book in any form or means without my permission, with the exception of small bits for review and marketing purposes. In those cases, go for it. Lend a hand, folks!

  In case it wasn’t clear, this book is a work of fiction. I mean, dang good fiction, am I right? Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental because when you’re a writer you can just make stuff up. Not even kidding.

  eBook Edition

  Also by Jared Garrett

  Beyond the Cabin

  The Seer (A Story of the Thirty-Six)

  The Beat Series

  Beat

  Push

  The Guide and the Sword

  Lakhoni

  Usurper

  Red Prince

  The Dragonscale Posse

  Showdown at Serpent Ridge (coming soon!)

  Join the Garrish Army!

  Greetings, readers, fans, and hopeful conscripts!

  I’m so excited that you are reading Red Prince—the final book in the Guide and the Sword trilogy! Weren’t Lakhoni and Usurper all kinds of fun?

  If you haven’t read the other two books, that’s cool. You should totally go and do that, but you’ll find a very brief summary of them next, right before Chapter One.

  Now, what is the Garrish Army anyway? Well, when I was younger, one of the other kids I grew up with in the cult I grew up in (for real) used to make a play on my name and call me a “garish display.” I hated it then, but garish is a good play on Garrett, so I formed the Garrish Army. You can join it! If you do, you’ll have access to:

  *Early looks at upcoming releases

  *Deleted scenes

  *Contests

  *Giveaways

  *Sick merchandise

  *Appearance schedule

  I won’t spam you either.

  You can join the Garrish Army by going to

  https://www.facebook.com/JaredGarrettAuthor/

  Also, don’t forget to leave a review for Red Prince when you’re finished! Simply click here to get it done: https://www.amazon.com/Red-Prince-Guide-Sword-Book-ebook/dp/B07R4CPSY1

  For Xavier, Javen, Byron, Spencer, Chris, Chris, Nathan,

  Nathan, Lori, Bill, Ryan, Kelly, Erin, Nathan,

  Mrs. Hamblin, and Mr. Walker.

  I cannot thank you anywhere near enough.

  Lakhoni failed to save his village from raiders and was left for dead. Hey. I warned you there were spoilers. When he wakes up, he finds his family killed and sister abducted. Just before he can set out after her, he is taken in by a shadowy figure, Gimno, from the legendary group of assassins called the Living Dead. Gimno becomes a mentor and trains Lakhoni to be one of their warriors. Lakhoni is accepted into the Living Dead by their leader Molgar, but he wants to get away and save his sister. Finally he escapes, but is nearly killed by treacherous terrain and weather. He falls into a village and is nursed back to health by Simra, the village healer’s daughter. They… wait for it… fall in love.

  Upon regaining his health, Lakhoni and Simra plan to leave and go after Alronna, Lakhoni’s sister. But when the time comes to go, Lakhoni leaves without Simra, worried she will be put into danger if she comes along.

  Simra is very angry at Lakhoni. In Usurper, we learn that she left her village not long after to track him down—as well as to get away from toxic personalities that sought to suppress and control her.

  Lakhoni makes it to his people’s capital city, where he is sure he will find his sister. This is because he knows the raiders who killed his family and village came from his king, Zyron. Lakhoni joins a crew of servants to the king who take care of the king’s dogs. They are called dog-boys. As he uses his employment with them to find a way into the king’s temple, the city is attacked by the Living Dead, led by Molgar and his acolyte Shelu—along with Gimno and all the other warriors of the Living Dead. King Zyron is slain and the city is taken by Molgar. Lakhoni is nearly killed while rescuing Alronna and fighting Gimno—whom he slays.

  In Usurper, we follow Lakhoni, Alronna, Ree (King Zyron’s daughter), and one of the dog-boys as they chase after Molgar and Shelu—who are trying to gain power over all the land possessing two ancient Relics of power. These are the Guide and the Sword. So Lakhoni and his crew try to get to the Sword before Molgar.

  Meanwhile, Simra, has tracked Lakhoni to the city and is told that Lakhoni killed the king and later died as he escaped the city. She helps a young family, then finds some of the injured dog-boys after leaving the city. Just before leaving the city, she learns that Molgar had left a man in charge of the city and army—someone that everybody simply called the Red Prince. But the Red Prince and the army left the city and went north.

  Simra and the dog-boys encounter a group of Usurpers—the people to the north—who have come south to see what their ancient sworn enemies are up to. They’re worried that Molgar, who was originally one of them, is up to.

  Lakhoni’s group makes it to a cave where they’re sure the Sword of Nubal is hidden. This is one of the ancient Relics that Molgar wants. But Molgar, Shelu, and several warriors are right behind them and people die in a pitched battle in the depths of the cavern. The identity of one of Molgar’s warriors is revealed and Lakhoni’s world is changed.

  Lakhoni and Alronna leave the rest of their injured party on the mountain and race down to try to get ahead of Molgar. But they find Simra and the dog-boys, who have just encountered the Usurpers—who are actually called Azarite
s. Simra is not ready to forgive Lakhoni for leaving her alone and she makes that very clear. Lakhoni doesn’t know what to do to win her back. Lakhoni, Simra, and the Azarites all compare notes and realize that Molgar and the Red Prince, along with their army, have actually gone north to take the capital city of the Azarites. So Lakhoni and crew, including Simra and the dog-boys now, join forces with the Azarites and sail north to try to head off Molgar.

  They’re too late. Molgar and his evil minions have taken the city of the Azarites. Now Lakhoni and his companions join forces with warriors and leaders of the Azarites to get into the captive city and free it—while killing Molgar.

  The plan works. Mostly. People die. Alronna puts an arrow into the chest of the Red Prince, who is actually Molgar’s brother, Gadnar. Does Gadnar die?

  Guys, this book is called Red Prince. What do you think?

  This was brief. Read Lakhoni and Usurper to get the whole story.

  Lamorun grunted as the giant, fast-moving creature landed atop him. But the tall, wiry man didn’t take even a step back to brace himself. He bent and, with a howl of rage, flung the giant, shaggy boar tusk over tail.

  The thing flailed and squealed, landing on its back at the base of a gnarled tree trunk. Vines crawled up the tree’s bark, seeming to writhe out of the tree’s roots. If Lakhoni stood there long enough, he felt like he would be able to see those vines move.

  “Lakhoni now!”

  Lamorun’s voice blasted through the haze of first fear, then shock that had overtaken Lakhoni. How had the giant boar not even knocked Lamorun off balance? Was his brother filled with the strength of the Great Spirit? Lakhoni drew back his arm and launched the short, heavy spear at the boar, which had just righted itself.

  The spear thunked into the shaggy, tough-skinned animal’s back haunch. It didn’t seem to notice, shaking its ugly snout and stained, curving tusks and bellowing a high-pitched roar of anger. It charged Lamorun.

  A bone-shattering scream pierced the small clearing in the heavy green forest, followed by the falling shape of Hilana, swinging from a tall tree between two other trees. She flipped in the air and, the moment before she landed, whipped two blades out of their sheaths. She crashed onto the back of the boar with both feet, driving it to the earth. She buried her knives into its neck and jerked. The monster went still.

  Hilana straightened with a fierce grin aimed at Lamorun. “Your strategy was to throw it?”

  “How was I to know it would jump off that rocky outcrop at me?” Lamorun scratched at his head where two months’ growth of hair finally covered most of the scars on his scalp.

  “You could have listened and maybe done some scouting.”

  “Or I could climb a tree out of fear that our dinner would hurt me.” Lamorun drew his sharp blade from the sheath at his hip and helped Hilana clean the beast.

  “Or,” Lakhoni said, yanking his spear from the slain animal, “you two could stop making eyes at each other and hurry up with our food.” He turned toward the camp where the others were waiting. “Besides, I’m the one who slowed it down for you, Hilana.”

  Hilana’s voice followed Lakhoni. “It was close enough for you to throw that spear down its throat.”

  “I’d like to see you get anything down that thing’s tiny mouth!” Lakhoni returned. He walked fast, anxious to get back to camp. He, Lamorun, and Hilana had been on the trail of that wild boar for over an hour and it felt like days since he’d last seen Simra or felt her touch. He glanced heavenward, orienting himself, and eased into a slow lope, flowing through the forest. The lack of urgency in his run struck him. True, he wanted to be by Simra’s side always, but the peace and absence of panic in his gut felt almost strange. He was not chasing, not being chased, and wasn’t trying to save his village or an entire kingdom.

  Great Spirit, let this last.

  In stride, he touched the knuckle of one finger to his lips, then pointed to the skies. He glanced around. Nobody was nearby to see the superstitious gesture. It was something Lina did constantly, and which Lakhoni often had to bite his tongue to not tell her that her superstition made no sense. But here I am, doing it too.

  Before long, he found the game trail his group had been following, recognizing it by the faint line running parallel to it off to the right, where a second smaller herd must have been following the other herd. Lakhoni lengthened his stride. New growth and bushes along the trail had been eaten regularly by the wildlife that came through, resulting in a somewhat clear passage through the heavy forest.

  “Lakhoni’s back!” Movement not far ahead came with the voice. It came from Mastopo, Lina’s brother, the young man they had rescued from Molgar and Anor in Hamalralin.

  No, not Anor. Gadnar. He was Molgar’s brother all along. The memory set Lakhoni’s mind back to the minutes in the judges’ chamber in the city of the Usurpers. The moment when they learned that Gadnar had survived the arrow in his chest and escaped the city. Hopefully to die somewhere in the wilderness, eaten by what Lakhoni hoped had been merciless, hungry beasts.

  “Azarites,” Lakhoni reminded himself under his breath as he came to the small clearing around which his group had camped. The people to the north were not Usurpers anymore. They were people, families like his own. And they had a name. Azarites.

  “Oh, Lakhoni. Thank the First Fathers and spirits of the ancestors.” Lina hurried up to Lakhoni so fast that Lakhoni had to nearly throw himself backwards to avoid bowling her over.

  “All’s well,” Lakhoni said, taking in the campsite quickly. Where was Simra? “Hilana and Lamorun are bringing the boar we slew.”

  “No,” Lina said. “You must come quickly!” The alarm and fear on Lina’s face would have concerned Lakhoni, but the woman was always worrying and sounding scared. Lakhoni didn’t regret letting her and her rescued brother join the group going north, but sometimes she made it harder to have some peace and quiet. And where was Simra, anyway? He saw all the others they’d picked up along their journey, but she was nowhere in sight. Neither were Prila and Jasnia.

  “Okay, calm down.” Lakhoni put his hands out. “I’m sure whatever it is—”

  “Calm down?” Simra ran into view, patting the pouches of the belt she’d had made, which sat above her hips and the breeches she now wore. Her pale brown tunic was smeared, making Simra look like she had rubbed against some mud or a wet rock. “Your first words are to tell Lina to calm down? Even before you hear what she has to say?”

  “What?” Lakhoni dodged around Lina, making for Simra. The urgency in Simra’s voice made the hair on Lakhoni’s neck stand. “What’s this about?”

  Simra reached for her pack and pulled several rolls of bandages out. “You need to learn to listen when someone’s trying to tell you what’s happening.” She straightened and raised her eyebrows at Lakhoni. “Lina was trying to tell you.”

  “But she’s always worried.” Lakhoni reached for his bow. “What’s going on?”

  Simra stopped Lakhoni’s reaching hand. “You don’t need your bow. But we do need your muscle.” She pulled him after her and plunged back into the forest. “Come, Lina! Mastopo, keep watch.”

  “Will someone please explain what’s happening?” He sucked in a breath. The smears on Simra’s tunic were red. “Hold, is that blood?”

  Simra pulled Lakhoni along. “There’s a village, although it’s more a trinoma, just beyond the rise here.”

  “Trinoma?” Lakhoni matched Simra’s pace, hearing Lina crashing through the forest behind her. “What’s that?”

  She turned a surprised expression on him as they began to round the downward slope of the rise Simra had pointed at. “Three extended families living together in a small village. Actually, something more like a compound. How do you not know this?”

  “I have no idea,” Lakhoni said. “Just tell me what’s going on. And why is there blood on your shirt?” As they rounded the low hill in the forest, the trinoma came into view—six huts made of wood and mud surrounding a single large fire
pit, with two other long pits set off a ways from the gathering of dwellings.

  Bodies lay on the ground. Prila and Jasnia knelt next to one of them, bending closely as if talking.

  “Something—or someone—came through here and killed them.” Simra explained as she broke into a run.

  The sight of the body-strewn space brought back memories of his own village. Lakhoni hesitated before going after Simra. He fought back a wash of bile. “How do we know that whoever did this isn’t still around?”

  Simra didn’t answer. She dropped to her knees next to the body Prila and Jasnia were with. Except it wasn’t a body. The boy was alive, despite a bloody head wound and a deep-looking cut in his side. Prila, her cheeks thin for her seven years, cradled the boy’s head in her lap while Jasnia touched a wet cloth to his mouth, carefully giving the severely wounded boy water. The boy couldn’t have been much older than Prila. A flash of anger coursed through Lakhoni. He brushed his fingers down his sheathed dagger.

  Lakhoni knelt next to Simra. “How can I help?”

  Simra had a bandage and a thick, blunt stick in hand. “Go to his head. We need to stop the bleeding, or he’ll die.”

  Lakhoni scrambled around and inserted himself between Prila and Jasnia. He glanced at the girls, both former Living Dead, and marveled at how they looked completely normal. He’d seen both in the Cavern after Gimno had taken him in. He’d even spoken to young Prila once or twice, since she was Gimno and Vena’s daughter.

  She has taken to healing better than you would expect after growing up the way she did.

  But that was unfair. Vena, despite her apparent devotion to the cause of the Living Dead, had always been tender with Lakhoni, had treated his injuries. And now Vena and Prila—Gimno’s family—were part of Lakhoni’s growing band of travelers. Would he ever have the courage to tell them that he had been the one to kill Gimno?