First Chapter of VENGEANCE OF ARTHUR — and more new covers!!
The next batch of new covers for Once and Future Hearts are up!
Here we go:
Cool, huh?
And because it’s two weeks away from the general release date for Vengeance of Arthur, I’m dropping the complete first chapter below, for you to check out.
First Chapter
FIRST CHAPTER FROM VENGEANCE OF ARTHUR
COPYRIGHT © TRACY COOPER-POSEY 2022
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Chapter One
Kingdom of Lothian, Greater Britain. Early spring, 510 C.E.
Owain ached to escape the overheated, smoky hall stuffed full of loud, merry people drunk on too much sour Lothian wine. So when the screaming began, his first reaction was a trickle of relief that the merriment would now be interrupted. As one of the few sober men at the long table, it also gave him an excuse to investigate the source of the caterwauling.
The great hall of the Lothian keep was narrow and lengthy, like the tables crammed into it. The ancient stone walls were black with age and the smoke from biers and lamps that had nowhere to escape except through tiny, inadequate vents in the high roof. Carpets and tapestries hid some of the dark walls. Wreaths of early greenery had been hung between them, to celebrate the wedding couple. This far north, few flowers yet bloomed to adorn the wreaths. His sister’s bouquet had been one of herbs and snowdrops.
Whenever he stepped into the great hall of Lothian, Owain’s mood flattened and soured. Perhaps it was because of Lothian’s checkered history. Or the miniscule light the fortified keep allowed into the room.
Yet every bier and lamp was lit, tonight. The straw on the floor was fresh, right down to the old stones beneath.
Certainly, no one could help but be impressed by the great assembly of guests dressed in their finest and brightest garments, whose appearance enhanced the elongated hall. King Gaheris of Lothian was not the only royalty in the room. Two of Gaheris’ brothers, Agravaine and Mordred, were also present. They’d travelled north from Camelot to see their brother Gareth married. Their mother, Queen Morguase, added to the luster in the room.
The glimpses Owain had caught of Morguase in her indecently extravagant apple green silk gown, which made much of her unnaturally youthful figure, was one of the reasons for his mood. Morguase was his aunt, but had been an indifferent mother figure to him and Morfydd in the absence of their real mother, Morgan.
Morgan had not bothered to stir herself from her magical Avalon for her daughter’s wedding. Neither Owain nor Morfydd had entertained any hope that she would arrive in Lothian, even though Owain had penned the invitation himself and paid the courier to ensure it was delivered.
The other personages in the room were just as gilded and majestic as the Lothian and Rheged clans. King Idris of Strathclyde, the third northern kingdom, attended with his wife Rhiannon, the milk sister of Arthur, the High King. Their oldest daughter, Anwen, who was heavy with child, and her husband, Sagramore, who was heir to two eastern thrones, had also made the short journey.
Owain knew that others would count him among the royal blood in the room. He was the oldest son of the King of Rheged, even though that kingdom had remained without a king since his reprehensible father had died.
He impatiently pushed the thought aside and hacked a small slice of venison from the haunch in the center of the bridal table, even though he was no longer hungry. Royal blood was nothing. A man’s actions spoke louder. So did a woman’s…
The screaming reached his ears as he chewed the first mouthful of meat. It was faint, almost drowned beneath the waves of music and laughter and shouting. Morfydd and her new husband, Gareth, had retired to the bridal chamber some time ago and now the guests were relaxing and concentrating on enjoying themselves.
Another series of screams sounded, this time louder. Owain dropped his chin and turned his head, straining to locate the source of the cries.
The next scream caused a check in conversations, but as it was not repeated, the noise returned to its previous level.
Owain stood, a hand on the hilt of his sword so it did not jab or slap his neighbors at the table, and lifted his leg over the bench.
“Where ye think ye off to, then?” King Idris asked, his eyes narrowed. He was not stinting himself with the Lothian wine. Possibly because Sagramore was making sure the old King’s cup remained full.
“You didn’t hear the screams, my lord?” Owain asked the king.
Idris frowned and shook his head.
“From the private wing,” Owain added. “It’s a warren, back there. You’ll get lost.” Although the bridal chamber was there, too. “Stay and drink,” Owain added. “I’ll learn who tries to disturb the feast.”
Sagramore raised a brow. “Would you like assistance, Prince Owain?” He appeared to be as sober and as calm as Owain felt, which ran counter to every tale he’d heard about the eastern prince’s prodigious drinking and chancy temper.
Owain shook his head. “Do not stir yourself. I’m sure it is nothing.” He wove through the tables to the wider space between the last of them and the wall, which served as a corridor for the servants and for guests who wished to traverse the length of the hall.
Owain hurried along, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. He nodded at various guests who were sober enough to notice his passing and raise their cup in his direction, or nod or smile at him.
They were oblivious to the troubles beyond the hall. He tried to envy them their moment of peace and merriment, but could not. Happiness was not for the likes of him.
He headed for the exit and whatever lay beyond it.
The omens gather, while Camelot fractures…
Saraid is an orphan, thanks to the Saxons, but has found a place as lady companion to Adrivete, the daughter of King Drust of Deira. She wants nothing more than to stay where she is and live a quiet, uneventful life.
Her peace is shattered when Owain, the son of the dead King of Rheged, rides into Deira and demands they hand over Lamorak, the murderer of his aunt, Morguase of Lothian…before sliding from his horse in exhaustion. Then a message is received from Arthur, the High King of Britain, ordering Adrivete to travel to Camelot with Owain. Adrivete insists Saraid travel with her.
Saraid is out of her element, uncomfortable, hungry and tired, and dismayed by the forced intimacies of the road. When Owain unexpectedly helps her cope with the rigors of travel, Saraid learns he is not at all the gruff, infamous son of Rheged that rumour paints him to be.
Neither of them wants to go to Camelot. Together, they might survive the politics, conspiracies and the storm that gathers over the city of miracles…
This novel is part of the ancient historical romance series, Once and Future Hearts, set in Britain during the time of King Arthur.
1.0 Born of No Man
2.0 Dragon Kin
3.0 Pendragon Rises
3.5 Once and Future Hearts Box One
4.0 War Duke of Britain
5.0 High King of Britain
6.0 Battle of Mount Badon
6.5 Once and Future Hearts Box Two
7.0 Abduction of Guenivere
8.0 Downfall of Cornwall
9.0 Vengeance of Arthur
10.0 Grace of Lancelot
11.0 The Grail and Glory
12.0 Camlann
A Historical Fantasy Romance/Ancient Historical Romance series
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Enjoy!!
