Spymaster

  Dragon Knights

  Bianca D'Arc

  Hawk Publishing, LLC

  Copyright © 2023 by Bianca D'Arc

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

  The Jinn Spymaster of Valdis Maj has been working in secret for years, but that's all about to change.

  ​It's a turbulent time in the Kingdom of Valdis. There's a new face at the King's court - a hardened warrior looking to settle down in one place after a lifetime of wandering. He's earned the respect of the King and is asked to liaise with the spymaster. What he doesn't expect is that the spymaster is a woman. A very intriguing, very beautiful woman. Something about her speaks to him on a very basic level. He wants her. But, more importantly, he wants her in his life... forever.

  Isolde is a very good spy, but she's never found one man who can make her weak in the knees, and also earn her respect. When she meets General Brighton, she suspects he might just be the one. It'll take two wild dragons and assassination attempts on their liege lord to throw them into danger - and prove their attraction isn't just a fleeting thing.

  They might just have a shot at a real, life-long bond... If they both survive the trials ahead.

  To my family. I miss you.

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Bianca D'Arc Backlist Titles

  Chapter One

  “I guess I won’t be seeing you for a while,” Jimnel, the Captain of the Guard in the city of Valdis Maj, told the spymaster as they concluded their meeting. He was one of only a handful of people who knew the spymaster’s true identity, who was not also part of the Jinn Brotherhood. For the spymaster was Jinn, as was the network of spies that reported back through the many layers of authority that ended with the spymaster of Valdis Maj.

  There were other spymasters in other cities and countries, of course, but a great deal had been happening in this land of late, making this spymaster’s information a bit more significant than usual. The Jinn had decided to ally themselves with Alric, the Blind King, who was blind no more after a series of epic battles involving both alchemy and mage craft. Great change had come upon this land in a very short amount of time, and it looked like things had not yet settled down.

  “What takes the Captain of the Guard away from his duties to his liege?” the spymaster asked quietly.

  Jimnel sighed. “Changes, my friend. Lots and lots of changes. King Alric is sending me to the border. Or, I should say, the old border to the north. He wants me to liaise with the Jinn mercenary companies that are now under King Alric’s banner. I fear I will be traveling back and forth from the old border for some time, until the Jinn are settled.”

  “You don’t sound too upset about that,” the spymaster observed.

  “Honestly, I’m not. Much as I love my King—and serving him has been my greatest honor—after witnessing such great changes in the world around me, I have discovered a longing for a bit of change in my own life. I fear my habits had become far too predictable, which is never good for a fighting man. Don’t want to grow soft, after all,” he quipped, patting his flat belly as if an ounce of fat would dare gather there.

  Jimnel was a warrior in his prime, and the spymaster had enjoyed getting to know him over these past few months, but he was right. Change had come upon them all, and it wasn’t good to get too comfortable with anything. The nomadic Jinn knew this, perhaps, best of all.

  Jimnel gathered up his things in preparation for leaving. He had brought a satchel full of papers for the spymaster. His final reports, for a while. The spymaster would miss him. Jimnel had proven a trustworthy operative with the ear of the King, which had made the spymaster’s work much more easily accomplished from the shadows.

  “Don’t worry, though. I have a proposal for someone equally well-placed who could fill my role here, while I am away.” The spymaster nodded for Jimnel to go on. “As I go north, General Brighton will be spending more time in the capital. He has the opposite problem from me. He’s been on the move too long and wants to reconnect with the heart of this land. The King believes it is a good idea and has given his leave for Brighton to spend a bit more time at court for the next few months. He is ideally suited to being your liaison while I’m not here, though I expect you’d like to vet him yourself. If you are agreeable, leave the usual signal in the usual place, and I will set up a meeting for the three of us so that I may introduce you to him.”

  The spymaster wasn’t sure about this idea, and Jimnel seemed to pick up on the skepticism. The spymaster would have to do a lot of investigation before allowing another outsider into the circle of trust.

  “Just think about it. Do whatever inquiries you feel you must, but don’t take too long. I leave in a fortnight, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’d like to have this settled before then.”

  Jimnel took his leave, and the spymaster settled back in the chair. The Captain of the Guard had given the spymaster a great deal to think about.

  General Brighton felt relief on entering the capital city. His battle horse, Wolfsbane, seemed equally happy to be nearing the end of their long journey. He and his men had spent the last two months in the north, meeting with the captains of the Jinn mercenary companies that were now settling and building towns around themselves in what used to be the wasteland.

  A former mercenary commander, Brighton had already known many of the men he’d talked with, and had formed cautious friendships with the others. He had much to report to his King about all the changes to the empty land that King Alric had just annexed onto his country. All in all, Brighton thought it had been a good move. The Jinn mercs had always been a cut above most of the other merc companies Brighton had worked with during his early career. They had a private code in addition to the Mercenary Code that gave them just a bit more integrity than the others, if Brighton was reading his past experiences correctly.

  Of course, they were Jinn. That equated to secretive in his mind. He wasn’t really sure, even now, what their ultimate goals were in settling the barren land to the north and joining under Alric’s banner. He hoped it would turn out all right in the end, and he had caught not even a whiff of treachery in any of the interactions he’d had with commanders and grunts, alike.

  Time would tell, of course, but for once, Brighton felt reasonably positive about the immediate future. The King had just won some major battles without much bloodshed, which was always a good thing.

  Much to his surprise and honor, Brighton discovered that Jimnel, the Captain of the Guard, had turned out a large group of his Guardsmen in a double row lining the street leading to the castle barracks. It was an honor usually reserved for troops returning from battle, and Brighton felt especially glad that the City Guard had chosen to respect him and his troops in this way. It was a good omen for things to come.

  Brighton examined the faces of the men he passed as he rode through the Honor Guard, and they did not look displeased by this duty. In fact, they looked welcoming, despite the need to keep a straight face and strong stance.

  Jimnel was waiting for Brighton at the gate. He was mounted, and Brighton brought Wolfsbane to a halt, the two horses and riders facing each other.

  “Welcome home, General Brighton,” Jimnel said formally.

  “Captain, you do me a great honor, turning out the Guard as you have. Thank you.” Brighton gestured to the men standing at attention on either side of the road.

  “It is your due, General, and the men wanted to demonstrate their respect for you and the work you’ve been doing along the borders to keep our land secure.” Jimnel nudged his horse into motion, turning to ride beside Wolfsbane.

  The formal part of the greeting over, Brighton squeezed Wolfsbane into a slow walk beside Jimnel’s white steed. They looked striking, two muscular war horses—one pure white, one darkest black—walking side by side, matching stride for stride. The picture they made appealed to Brighton’s well-hidden sense of whimsy.

  Wolfsbane was usually a handful around lesser horses, but he had met Jimnel’s mare before, and they seemed to have come to some kind of agreement to respect each other without any bad behavior. Brighton was grateful for that. They’d been on the road too long today to
have to deal with Wolfsbane’s antics.

  It didn’t take long for Brighton and his small group to traverse the distance inside the gates to the barracks. Grooms were ready to take the horses, and Brighton’s own man took charge of Wolfsbane when he dismounted. Brighton hadn’t traveled with the army, or even a small portion of it. His companions on this journey had been a small number of his own staff who would serve him here in the capital, as they had in the countryside. Several were clerks who wrote out the orders to be delivered to the commanders in the field. Most of the rest were his most trusted messengers. All in all, less than a dozen had traveled with Brighton to the capital, and they were easily housed in the castle barracks.

  “We’ve prepared a corridor of rooms for you and your staff, including an office suite where you can work. Which would you like to see first?” Jimnel had dismounted as well and walked beside Brighton.

  “It’s been a long journey. Let’s get my staff settled in their living quarters, and then, I’d like to see the work area,” Brighton replied, stripping off his riding gloves and slapping them together to pound out some of the road dust. It had been a long journey, indeed.

  “Certainly, General. Right this way.” Jimnel led the way, a gracious host. The Captain’s demeanor wasn’t lost on the General.

  Though Brighton’s title outranked the Captain of the Guard, their functions were quite different, and they both held about equal clout with the King. They were not rivals, not friends, exactly, but definitely equals. Brighton wanted to make certain Jimnel understood that, so they could get off on the right foot, if they were going to be working more closely together in the future.

  Brighton walked beside the Guard Captain, his weary men walking behind. He knew, if he asked, they would jump right into work, but he wasn’t going to ask. They’d traveled hard and deserved a bit of time to recover. And Brighton needed time to figure out how this city worked and make contacts here. It had been too long since he’d worked in this kind of environment, but the landscape was changing rapidly, and it was time to learn more about the inner workings of the court.

  “Here’s your corridor. There should be plenty of room for you all,” Jimnel said to the whole group as he and Brighton stood off to one side of the wide hall.

  The men saluted and went ahead into the barracks, Brighton’s aide sorting out the room assignments based on rank, function, and need. Brighton turned, leaving that in their capable hands. They’d leave the biggest room for him, out of tradition, and he knew his saddlebags would be there when he returned. His men had always taken good care of him, and he didn’t expect any less now that they were in a city and not a camp.

  “The office area is just adjacent,” Jimnel said quietly when only the two of them were left in the hallway. The Captain led the way to a wide door and opened it, ushering Brighton inside.

  There were several rooms leading from a main central chamber that had a very large table at its center. Many people could work here together, when necessary, which suited Brighton’s needs.

  “Your office is through here, General.” Jimnel led him to the largest of the rooms attached to the central area and opened the door. They went inside, and Brighton looked around with approval.

  “This will work very well. Thank you.” The General went around a large desk placed at the back of the room to look at a wide leather chair. It looked all too inviting after his long journey.

  “General, if you’re not too tired from your travels, there is a matter of some importance I’d like to talk to you about,” the Guard Captain said, closing the door to the office, sealing them inside.

  Brighton sat behind the desk, glad to rest his weary body, and motioned for Jimnel to take one of the seats on the opposite side of the desk. The Guard Captain sat and seemed to study Brighton for a moment before speaking.

  “I know you spent years as a mercenary,” Jimnel began.

  Brighton wasn’t sure where this conversation would lead, but he was willing to humor the other man, for the time being. He simply nodded.

  “I suspect you’ve had dealings with the Jinn even before encountering those mercenary companies now building towns in the wasteland.”

  “I have,” Brighton said when Jimnel paused, seeming to wait for a response.

  “Then, I suppose you know about their spy network.”

  Brighton could feel his eyebrow rising in mild surprise. He hadn’t expected this turn to the conversation. He said nothing, waiting for Jimnel to continue. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “The thing is, General…” He paused as if considering his words carefully. “This city is home to one of the more important spymasters in this region. I have met the Jinn spymaster of Valdis Maj and acted as go-between for His Majesty on many occasions. Since I plan to travel to the north and spend some time there, I’ve been considering who might fill my role with the spymaster here, in my absence. It would make sense for that person to be you, if you are agreeable. Contingent, of course, on the spymaster’s agreement.”

  Now, this was an interesting turn of events. Brighton was very well acquainted with the Jinn spy network. He had long been envious of their resources for information and found it intriguing that they were working with the crown, even in secret. Then again, the King was set to marry a Jinn princess, and several thousand people affiliated with the secretive Brotherhood were currently building permanent homes in newly annexed lands to the north. The Jinn involvement in Valdis had grown by leaps and bounds.

  “I would welcome the opportunity to work with the spymaster,” Brighton replied, already eager to get to work. Who knew city life could be so intriguing?

  “Excellent. I have put the proposal before the spymaster and am awaiting a reply. If they agree, I will take you to a meeting with the spymaster and introduce you. Likely, it will be at night, after dark. I will try to give you as much notice as possible, but generally, just be ready. The Jinn, as you probably know, like to move swiftly once they have made a decision.”

  Jimnel stood, and Brighton did the same, reaching across the desk to shake the Captain’s hand, warrior style.

  “Thank you, Captain. I’ll be ready,” he promised. “And thank you, once again, for the warm welcome for me and my staff.”

  The spymaster of Valdis Maj put down the latest report on the Jinn mercenaries who had been granted leave to settle in what had been a wasteland to the north of King Alric’s domain. They were expanding their camps into full-fledged towns and developing a network of roads and supply lines over the river that had been the previous border of the Kingdom of Valdis, into the farmland to the south.

  King Alric had appended that wasteland to his kingdom, expanding his border to the north. The wasteland had been empty and barren for so long that no other kingdom wanted to claim it. There was no problem in Alric annexing the wasteland, now that he had folks ready to settle it and make it livable. He had taken on responsibility for the land with the proviso that the Jinn mercenaries would settle the land and administrate the area.

  The Jinn had always been wandering nomads with no permanent homes, for the most part. Only recently, times had changed, and the Jinn were now happy to have land of their own within the boundaries of a peaceful kingdom run by a good leader. A long-awaited prophesy had come to pass for the Jinn, and they were finally finding homes all over the lands. Many were settling in Draconia, near to the Jinn Queen and her King-Consort—Arikia and Prince Nico of Draconia—both of whom were black dragon shapeshifters.

  Many other Jinn were settling in other places. The drifting mercenary groups now had their own place to the north within the new borders of Valdis, and the Jinn spymaster of Valdis Maj, the capital city, had big decisions to make. The nature of being a spymaster—especially in such a large city and kingdom as this—was to remain hidden. Nobody knew for certain, outside of a small circle of trusted allies and agents, exactly who the spymaster was.

  A meeting with King Alric had broadened that circle of trust, and now that the King was betrothed to the Jinn black dragon shifter, Lady Zallra, the time had probably come to widen the circle even more.