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    Facing the Dream: Kem & Kral
    Facing the Dream: Kem & Kral
    Facing the Dream: Kem & Kral
    Ebook66 pages29 minutes

    Facing the Dream: Kem & Kral

    By J.F. King

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    About this ebook

    Escaping the Necropolis and Narangia was fairly easy. But Kem and Kral can't seem to escape each other.

    Fleeing north, the pair enters the lands of the snow wizards. Seeking work, they find themselves captured by a spell.

    Is it a dream? Is it real? They will both be tested to their breaking points.

    Stay tuned for Book 3!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ.F. King
    Release dateOct 20, 2017
    ISBN9781386790730
    Facing the Dream: Kem & Kral

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      Book preview

      Facing the Dream - J.F. King

      Don't believe everything people tell you. Lies are thicker than flies.

      ––––––––CHAPTER 1

      Kem

      I had the rope knotted from the middle down to the end for maximum pain.

      My robe hung from a branch. My jerkin was over it.

      Barebacked, I knelt on the ground – face close to the dirt. Flicking out the rope, I tested the weight. It was light, but it would have to do.

      I whipped the rope around over my shoulder and down onto my back. The sting of pain was satisfying. I jerked my hand around to the other side and worked up a swinging rotation. The rope scored and burned my back, delivering penance for the lives I had taken.

      Penance.

      For killing innocent men.

      For breaking the trust of the Grand Rector in delivering the scrolls.

      For letting another man touch me.

      For... loving a man.

      I had contravened all I had been taught. Flung my error into the face of God.

      Having earned my robes, I had spit on the Order of the Sun. What was I worth? Was I even a monk anymore?

      I felt the wet warmth of blood on my back.

      I whipped harder, driving my guilt to painful heights and—

      Kral's growling shout interrupted me. What in the sun's hairy blazing ballsack do you think you're doing?

      I faltered with the whip and stopped, panting. I am scourging myself for my wrongs.

      His boot caught me in the gut and flipped me over. What wrongs?

      The murder of those men—

      This again?

      They were innocent.

      No, they were men who attacked us.

      Innocent.

      Who is innocent? Who in all the world? They sought to kill us and we had done no wrong.

      But they thought we were going to—

      And we weren't were we? We went to destroy those scrolls. If they had killed us, the scrolls would be intact and some other sun-blinded sagging ballsack would've retrieved them.

      Must you blaspheme? I straightened up and knelt.

      What, the sagging part? Would you rather I described them as undropped? High and tight? Recessed? Bald?

      I slapped my hand to my face. Stop.

      He snatched my clothing from the branch. Get up.

      What are you doing?

      He turned and strode back through the trees to where Runner was waiting.

      I ran after him. I wasn't done flagellating.

      He threw my clothes on the ground and yanked open one of the packs on the donkey. You want to play with ropes? I'll show you ropes. He swished two straps in the air and motioned for me to go ahead.

      I took several steps in the direction he indicated. What? Where are we going?

      Get moving. I've had enough of your self-righteous misery.

      He pushed my back and I stumbled forward. I pleaded, I need penance.

      You don't know what you need.

      His sword came out and flicked past me, severing a thick branch. He picked it up and wedged in the raised branches between two trees. Put your hands up there.

      On the branch? I dropped the whip.

      He nodded. So I can tie you.

      You're going to help with...?

      I am. I'm done trying to treat you like some fragile baby. He strapped my left hand securely to the branch. The other he tied down far apart, forcing me to lean forward a bit on the balls of my feet.

      I anticipated he was going to lash me severely and appreciated his effort. Thank you.

      Shut up.

      Be extra severe.

      Would you shut up? He stood in front of me and untied my breeches.

      What are you doing?

      His face came close to mine. Shut. Up.

      Don't whip my rod! I panicked.

      You'd like that, wouldn't you? His tone was disgusted.

      What do you mean?

      He had disappeared behind me but came back around in front. He was holding the whip I had fashioned and dropped just seconds before.

      I breathed raggedly with anticipation. The pain will be great, but I deserve this. Yes, whip me.

      He scowled. "Why should

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