Whispers of a Throne

  Whispers of a Throne

  The Queen Gene

  Victoria Pinder

  Love in a Book

  Whispers of a Throne

  Copyright©2017

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemble to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Copyright © 2017 Victoria Pinder Love in a Book

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13:

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  Created with Vellum

  This book is dedicated to my friend and amazing author, Sheena Snow. Sheena struggles with finding the time to write but she is absolutely a cheerleader when it comes to encouraging others. In 2017 she’s about to be a new mom so I hope her child appreciates how awesome she is. Sheena Snow when she is focused on your work as a great eye for really expressing emotion and depth.

  Contents

  Join Victoria Pinder

  Fantasy Novels

  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

  Also by Victoria Pinder

  About the Author

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  Fantasy Novels

  Please check out my other fantasy novels while you wait for the next adventures.

  Hidden Dragon Series

  Call of the Dragon

  Dawn of the Dragon (Coming Soon!)

  The Queen Gene

  Whispers of a Throne

  Earthseekers Mission

  Makeup May Change Your Life

  The Zoastra Affair

  Ancient Greek Heroes

  Mything You

  Mything the Throne

  Chapter 1

  "This won't hurt, Marion." My name is actually Gwen, but I had lied on the paperwork and refused to explain now. The nurse, dressed in a thick, white material, fixed her needles on a tray. I sat straight in the uncomfortable wooden chair, then held my arm out and gave her access to my veins.

  The prick of the needle stung worse than a scrape on my knee. Grinding my back teeth together, I pressed my hands into fists to hold back a scream as my blood poured into a small glass container. This would be all over in a moment.

  "Hold your arm up and press the bandage right on your wound." The nurse was efficient and expected her directions to be followed immediately. If I argued, she'd remember me. So I held my breath. Father was willing to follow the law, though we gave fake names. I kept my word we'd find out what the BloodRite said I was good for.

  The white papers she pressed against my arm scratched against my hairless skin. Mother had always used a soothing plant called aloe on my cuts. I cringed. I won't think of her. Mother was the reason Father talked me into taking this test. If we lived in cities like Avalon or London, the BloodRite would determine my fate. Most people get the test done at age thirteen, though law dictated before I turned eighteen. I thought he didn't care about the testing, but then Mother died, I turned eighteen in two days, and Father changed.

  The nurse motioned for me to keep my hand up. Instead of making a fuss, I stared out the window and did as she requested.

  Coldness entered me as I stared at the scorched black skyline of an ancient city, Camelot, on the outskirts of Avalon. A poisoned place where legends of mushroom clouds exploded over millions of people killing them instantly.

  I turned my head and looked at the nurse. The hem of her white gown brushed the wooden planks. She drew blood all day, but her long sleeves were clean and shiny. My homespun brown dress with dirt stains that never came out in the wash covered me from my toes to my shoulders, but it was hopelessly ruined. The sun grew higher in the sky. I have to get out of here or Father would want to find someplace to sleep for the night.

  The nurse returned and pressed her fingers to the scratchy material and then expertly wrapped white fabric to keep the paper in place. "Did you sign the waivers to get the letter posted to you, Marion?"

  I swallowed. It took me a second to remember she meant me. I pressed my lips together. "Yes."

  "You can go now. It was nice to meet you. I hope for your sake that the test shows you deserve better than what you have."

  My nose curled. She must think me so poor that anything would be better for me. She didn't know how it felt to be truly free. I stood to go. Father had written down the address of someone he trusted in Avalon. As I left the room, I threw the bandage and the white papers in the trash and checked my arm. No blood poured out anymore so my tiny wound had stopped bleeding. I nodded my head. "Thank you."

  Now that the test was done, Father and I could return to the forest and never come back here. This town was too close to a dead city. From the riverbed by my house, we could see the relics of Camelot. War, just like the one between Thor and Rex, must have poisoned everything. Cities and war and destruction all went together, in my opinion.

  As I walked out of the small building, I stared both ways down the busy street. People pulled carts filled with food, wood, or even furniture into a square. A woman with her husband and his cart full of apples gave directions while her young son rode on a donkey. She seemed weathered under her once red kerchief, but she was in full command mode with her crew.

  My father had told me to meet him at the bakery. He said go left from the medical center, toward the town square. As I'd never been here before, I chose to follow the family and count my steps.

  I winced at the stench of horses, carts and people. The forest smelled of pine trees and alder, even in the dead of winter.

  The last thing I needed was to lose my father and get stuck in the walled city of Avalon, complete with a huge castle in the middle that overlooked the blackened charred remains of the ancient city. I rubbed my arms. Stories said humans had lived in houses that touched the skies The old ones built those buildings up, but now anyone who touched their things soon died from invisible poison. I guessed
that meant all dreams die eventually, but I brushed away that dark thought.

  Wild animals in the forests that might try to eat me were much safer. Father had his arrows, not that he ever wanted to teach me to shoot. Nothing stopped the invisible.

  I stared at the castle. King Thor had built his fortress next to a death sentence on the belief that there was nothing left of the ancients to fear, but then he started a revolution that led to the loss of countless lives. Stories of his good looks were probably nothing more than pipe dreams of those who followed him.

  I discovered the baker stall as my nostrils filled with the scent of sweet pastries. I licked my lips and imagined the taste of sugar. Mother had made a delicious pie once. The baker nodded his head. "Have you been living in the forest? On the run from London?"

  "Yeah." I lied, again. I'd have never run from London or King Rex. I hate him and one day I will find a way to let my mother truly rest in peace. For years they'd found people in the forest who used their hidden camp as a stopover. "How did you guess?"

  "You're dress is hopeless." He was right, it was. At least the baker took my word at face value as he stared at my arm. "Did you come into town for your DNA results?"

  "Not results. Today I took the test." I held my arms together in front of me, meekly folded. I probably looked foolish. "My family was late. We were super busy."

  "Of course it's good. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life until the day of the test. The mandatory testing signals the skills we were given and what we can do to be successful. The test is always right because now I own my own shop. I'm good at what I do. I'm happy."

  "I don't think we should have to take this silly test."

  He leaned against the cart and wrapped a bun. "In the end we all have our roles to play. Your father should have brought you in from the forest years ago. You might have earned money to buy a nice dress."

  He smiled and pointed at my dress. I know it's ugly, but I'm not good with stitch work. I wasn't good at much except giving my opinion. I lifted my head as he coughed and said, "Would you like to buy something sweet to soothe your worries for the next week?"

  "No, thank you." The pastries smelled like warm sugar goodness, but I didn't have the money. "I'm not worried."

  He shook his head and went to speak to a young girl who might be eight years old. She picked a square of chocolate with fudge topping from the baker.

  I turned away. The ancients nearly scorched every piece of this earth. No one should listen to them. They "blessed" us with these dumb DNA rules that tell what we are supposed to do with our lives. My family lived off the grid, so it's not like the BloodRite truly mattered. I'm Gwen, the daughter of my father, a run away knight and his lady who lived off the land and we swore allegiance to no one, not Thor, not Rex, not this city of London. I pressed my lips together.

  Father had said Mother wanted me to know. It's why I gave in. I looked up to the sky and the afternoon sun. He was late. I wondered if he'd met with one of the people he'd sheltered in our secret forest fort. Who else would he know?

  Another girl about my age walked down the street. Her brown hair was darker than mine, and she had a pretty black mark on the left side of her chin. Her dress was also sewn from a large cleaner needle. I decided to approach her. "Good day. Would you know what time it is?"

  "It's early in the afternoon, Miss." She avoided my gaze as she stared at the sun dial that hung over the square until she noticed my clothes. She must have thought us equals. "Good day," she said.

  The bluish string she had made her dress from seemed thick and sturdy, and not like the soft fabrics of the town dwellers. "I like your dress."

  The girl fidgeted with a thread as she shook her head. "If I'm to live here inside Avalon, I hope to earn enough to buy one of those linen outfits everyone else wears."

  Linen outfits and nice fabrics were for people who didn't mind having a king. My father had saved us from this fate. I'd never live in a town. I swallowed as another memory slipped in my mind that I couldn't stop. "My mother used to sing about silks for the summer and velvets for the winter, not that I know what they are."

  I looked down at my scuffed boots as I rubbed the back of my neck. Silence clung for that moment, but then the other girl shrugged. "I don't know either."

  One lady I had glimpsed earlier wore a gown of gold that seemed spun from the air itself. Mother had told me that silk was expensive and soft. I pushed my hair behind my ear and wondered what my mother's life was like before she married father. "Do you live in town now?"

  "No. I'm here to beg King Thor to let me have another profession, but his appointments are a half an hour late. So I'm wasting time, talking to you."

  Thor started a war when he rebelled against Rex, and I had no idea why people accepted him as a king. I stared at the sun again. Father was about a half an hour late, but that didn't matter. He'd not be in the castle. "What did your blood test say that you don't want?"

  The young woman's lips curled in dismay. "A sheep shearer."

  "That's actually a pretty good profession."

  "Why would you say that?"

  Test results like that would mean no one would ever see me or expect to see me. I tried to talk her into it. "Shearing sheep means you wouldn't need to know the difference between linen and silk. You stay on the hills, away from all this."

  She clutched her breasts like she made a wish. "I want to though. I want to be a cordwainder and make amazing shoes for people. What did yours say?"

  I shrugged. This was exactly why no one should take the test. "I don't know yet. Today was my test day."

  “You were late too then.” She nodded. "I hope it matches what you want. I should get back. I don't want to miss my appointment."

  "Good luck," I called out as the girl walked down a street toward the castle. My gaze followed her, but then I noticed my father coming on the same street in the opposite direction with his head down. His gray hair was covered with a scarf, his forehead wrinkled.

  He knew I hadn't wanted to spend any time in this poisonous city and he'd told me he'd find me immediately after my test. I scowled at him and refused to care what bothered him. He rushed down the street in the last pair of pants Mother had made him, but he didn't see me.

  I waved, then crossed my arms. "Father, I'm here." He automatically turned toward me, barely avoiding a knight that rode down the street on his black horse. As the clack of hooves passed us, we stood side by side. My father held his hands over his stomach. "Let's go."

  His stomach better not hurt. I don't know how the poison starts, but nothing was going to happen to him if I could help it. Mother had taught us herbal remedies. I hurried my step. I had a good tea at home. "Yes, let's. I never want to be in Avalon again."

  "It was necessary."

  "I don't care about the stupid law."

  "One day you might."

  We walked outside of the gate and I winced. The giant charred buildings of Camelot blocked the mountains. Many people died from getting too close. In the winter, pure white snow almost covered the ugly blackness, at least from the distance we lived. The black city was like a ghostly reminder that death can creep through the veins. I gazed at the sky. It was later than it should be.

  My father said, "The ancients built a once beautiful Camelot years ago close to here."

  I crossed my arms. "The charred sky buildings should be a warning to not live in towns."

  "History teaches us the mistakes of the past so we don't make the same ones. We're not meant to live alone, Gwen. Avalon exists because Thor's people wanted a place of their own to call home."

  Since Mother died, he'd been obsessed with reading his books. I clenched my jaw. "Don't quote me history."

  A man and his flock of sheep walked in the other direction on the road. My throat closed as tightness grew in my chest. Nothing in my father's books would ever bring Mother back to us. Rex's fire bolts killed her and my sisters, all because of some war with Thor.

  My fath
er fixed his bow on his back as he always did every ten minutes on our walks. He coughed and asked, "Why not speak about Thor and Rex? Thor's a smart ruler."

  Kings killed good people like Mother. I fisted my hands and held my chin high. Calm down, Gwen. I gazed around and swallowed. Thor's rebellion caused this war. "He shouldn't be a king. No one should bow to him."

  My father clutched his stomach and bit his lips together. "How do you think this war between kings might end, child?"

  Something changed in him after Mother died. I drew a breath in and let it out slowly, but that didn't stop the fire in my blood. "Some queen will ultimately decide the fate of two kings? Father, you shouldn't believe stupid legends. They should stop fighting."

  "That's unrealistic."

  "And legends of a queen aren't?" I placed my hands on my hips as we walked up the hill and wished he'd never bring this topic up, ever again. "Thor started as a vassal to Rex until his blood test. He should have accepted who he was and ignored that test."

  "Your mother's test showed she was better than me, and all our lives she proved it." Mother died next to the river in a fire. Cruel kings and the BloodRite to rule did that. Father let go of his stomach, but put his hands behind his back to check on the quiver of arrows as we re-entered the forest. Soon we'd disappear into the blackness of the dense trees and oncoming night sky. I didn't say anything, so Father continued, "And what about those who wish to be away from London's rule?"