Free Mad Lord Lucian by Shay West Page A

Lady Arie and The Secrets of the Blasted Lands was a thin book, shoved so far back as to be almost invisible. Brok pulled the volume out, brow furrowed when he was met with a blank leather front.
    Curiosity not to be ignored, Brok opened the book and read. Within a few sentences, his hands began shaking and he slammed the book closed, eyes darting to the closed door, certain someone was about to come bursting into the room to take the book from him. In seconds, the book was tucked into a pocket sewn into the inside of his robes.
    Brok left the library and wandered down the hall, feet taking him somewhere his conscious mind wasn't aware of. His hand reached out and opened a door, and Brok left the manor house, pipe and pipeweed forgotten.
    He reached the dormitory and walked to his rooms, ignoring the greetings from fellow Mystics. He grabbed his belongings and left that same night, heading for the village that was to be his home until the signs appeared that would lead him home.

    *   *   *

    Brok shook his head and gripped the book until his knuckles turned white. The events of that night were surreal, as though they had happened in a dream or to someone else and he had only witnessed it. Something else had been at work, something that needed him to find that book and take it.
    It's for the boy.
    He took the tiny volume and headed on deck to find Jon. It was time the lad learned the truth of what the dark magic could do. It was time to tell him the true tale of the Mad Lord Lucian.

ONE
    “MYSTIC ANALI HAS ARRIVED.”
    “So soon?” Lord Lucian's manservant shook his head sharply. “Show him to his rooms and I will ready Lord Lucian. And please have some food sent up.”
    The messenger bowed his head and turned on his heel.
    Senda closed the heavy wooden doors to Lucian's personal chambers. He padded to the large fireplace and added more logs to throw off the early morning chill. The curtains were dragged open to let in some sun. All this room had seen of late was the pale light of a few tallow candles.
    Senda moved to the wardrobe to find something fitting for his Lord to wear to greet the Mystic. It wouldn't do to have one of the most powerful men of Astra going to a meeting in naught but his nightclothes.
    The maroon doublet will do nicely . He laid out the clothing before knocking softly on his Master's bedchamber door. Not expecting an answer, Senda pushed the doors open.
    Lord Lucian lay in his enormous four-poster canopy bed. The tops of the posts bore the carved likenesses of shadowcats. Their claws held the pale blue curtains in place.
    Senda tried to hide the bitter disappointment as he gazed at the Lord. Why do I hide it? He isn't even aware I am here.
    The once strong and powerful, the Lord had been reduced to a twitching, pale, skeletal remnant of his former self. His decline hadbeen rapid and frightening, his body succumbing to the brain sickness. However, there was no cure for the disease, and none of the potions or poultices seemed to bring him any relief. Lord Lucian's faculties slipped day by day until it was decided that his most trusted advisor, Lord Suasor, should take over the running of the kingdom.
    Lord Lucian's wife Malorie had died in childbirth many months ago. They had been deeply in love; her death snatched all of the light from his once merry, grey eyes and weighed heavily on his shoulders. He managed to get through the tedious details of running a kingdom, but he took no joy in anything.
    The smattering of Lords and Ladies who shared his island kingdom had tried to subtly mention the need for an heir. Several widows positioned themselves at his elbow day and night, trying to wheedle their way into a throne.
    Lord Lucian would have none of it. He was polite but distant, his tone and posture speaking volumes to these old vultures. His heart and soul still belonged to Malorie. He confided in Senda that he could still feel her spirit wandering the stone halls of the castle.
    “How can I marry