A short excerpt from the first chapter of Planet Of The Veils

Jenous 3547

Prince Blains stealthily made his way into the Holy Temple of Jenous. With his sword drawn, he prepared to slay his brother, King Belous, who stood between him and the throne. If his plan went well, his brother would soon be dead and he would no longer be prince, but King Blains.

Being the younger and more ruthless of the brothers, he had learned to take what he wanted. He paused a few paces behind his brother, apparently deep in prayer. Blains scoffed. He would go through the same premarital ritual, but such ritual would be for show. Silently Blains drew closer, preparing to spill his brother’s innocent blood while he knelt, unarmed, and unsuspecting on the Holy Altar, or so the prince thought.

Actually, Belous had been deep in prayer, alerted to impending danger by an inner sense. “Blains, why have you come here, to this holy place to challenge me?” Belous’ voice was quiet and calm, but demanding, causing Blains to hesitate, surprised his presence was detected. Belous glanced at Blains’ drawn weapon. “Could we take this to the courtyard and not foul this holy place?”

“This is as good a place as any to die,” Blains smirked, recovering quickly. “And, you are defenseless.” He watched Belous glance to the ancient wooden hassock in the foyer, where his royal arms lay sheathed.

“You would slay your king, your brother, unarmed in the Holy Temple before the Altar of the One!” Belous knew his brother hated him, however, he never suspected him of such treachery.

Blains smiled, evilly. “Yes, I would.” He took an aggressive step toward Belous who stood and their eyes locked, each watching the other’s moves.

Belous and Blains, both taught to fight as warriors, moved quickly. Blains lunged, Belous managed to avoid the thrust of his brother’s sword and gain his own weapon. Now he faced his brother equally armed, but not equally as treacherous. Their swords met. The sound of tempered, highly dense metal echoed throughout the hallowed and sacred temple. Parries met with blocks and shoves, thrusts returned and deflected.

Hearing the disturbance, the priest and priestess came running, but could do nothing to stop their king and his brother from fighting. Belous’ fiancée, Cassintra, also came from her prayer vigil, hearing the fray. The three stood watching the vicious battle in horror, appalled that it should occur in such a holy place.

Cassintra and Belous were beginning their marriage ritual with a vigil in the temple where their ceremony would take place in two days. Blains knew his brother would be here, unguarded, and planned to take him unarmed. Now he would have to fight for the throne and there would be witnesses to his treachery.

The two dueled heedless of their audience. Blains determined to slay his brother, and take his throne and his future wife. Belous determined to defend what was his by birth. Belous was clearly the superior fighter and should triumph. However, his treacherous brother had sequestered a short blade in his left hand, and when their swords clashed at the blade’s hilts, Blains stabbed his brother through the heart. At the same time, he shoved the king away and ran him through with his sword where the short blade had been, to cover his treachery.

Only Cassintra saw what had truly happened. She screamed and ran to cradle Belous’ head against her breasts. The priest and priestess skilled in the healing arts, both medical and mystical, tried to save their king, but their efforts were futile. Cassintra’s tears fell softly on Belous’ cheek. With his hand he reached up to touch her face, managing a smile for his bride.

“Kiss me, my love. Let me go to paradise with your kiss on my lips. There I will wait for you.” Belous felt her lips gently touch his before he died.

Cassintra’s heart ached with pain so intense, she was sure it was broken. Belous’ blood stained her pale rose gown and the floor tiles at the foot of the altar. Cassintra’s grief was overwhelming, and she did not feel it when Blains’ hand brutally closed around her wrist until he tried to pull her to her feet. She looked up into his eyes, too shocked to mask her hate for him.

“Touch me not, murderer!” Cassintra hissed, trying to pull free of his grasp.

“You would address your king in such a way?” Blains growled.

“You have murdered your brother, and the king, in the Holy Temple and you presume that the priest will anoint you in his place?” Cassintra asked incredulous, her voice full of hate.

Blains glared into the priest’s hate-filled eyes. “He will! There is no one else and I am next in line. Belous attacked me, and I defended myself. And you, Cassintra, will wed me in two days instead of Belous.”

“You are mad!” Cassintra said, shaking her head. She looked back at the face of her once future husband, her now dead king, her beloved. The priestess came to her, gently helping her up, leading her away from the cruel grasp of the usurper, and taking her to cleanse off Belous’ blood.

“In two days, Cassintra,” Blains reminded her as the priestess led her away. She stopped and turned, but did not speak. The priestess spoke for her.

“Your Highness, have you no compassion in your soul? Our Lady Cassintra loved King Belous.”

“She will have to learn to love me now. Have her prepared for me in two days, Priestess. I will not wait another day for her,” Blains said without any compassion.

“Blains, I swear I will wear the gown I now wear as my ceremonial dress!” Cassintra glared at him.

He quickly covered the paces between them to stand before her, and glare down into her round, blue eyes. He took the neckline of her gown in each hand and ripped the garment from her. “No, my Lady, you will not. Now go and prepare yourself, as is expected of a royal bride. What belonged to my brother is now mine, and that includes you, Cassintra. Two days, my dear.” He smiled triumphantly, turned and left the temple. The priests could clean up the mess he left behind.