The Death of Dulgath (Riyria #3)
Michael J. Sullivan
Anthologies
Unfettered: The Jester
Unbound: The Game
Unfettered II: Little Wren and the Big Forest
Blackguards: Professional Integrity
The End: Visions of the Apocalypse: Burning Alexandria
Triumph Over Tragedy: Traditions
The Fantasy Faction Anthology: Autumn Mists
Help Fund My Robot Army: Be Careful What You Wish For
Author’s Note
I’ve been locked in a room for over two-and-a-half years, the only light—the soft glow of a computer screen. That’s how I remember it, anyway. After finishing Hollow World, I began working on what was supposed to be a trilogy called The First Empire. Three books became five, and two-and-a-half years slipped away.
Readers of The Riyria Chronicles began requesting book three immediately after The Rose and Thorn’s release in September 2013. The Chronicles—previously expected to be a flop because prequels are the third rail of publishing—did surprisingly well. I apologize to everyone who has been anxiously awaiting this book, but at least the wait is over!
If you are new to the Riyria stories, you certainly can start with this book. The first two Riyria Chronicles told the origin story of how Royce and Hadrian met. With that tale told, this book was freed to tell a standalone adventure. If you do want to read other Riyria novels, then you should know there are two different ways you can approach the saga.
Publication Order: Theft of Swords ? Rise of Empire ? Heir of Novron ? The Crown Tower ? The Rose and the Thorn ? The Death of Dulgath
Chronological Order: The Crown Tower ? The Rose and the Thorn ? The Death of Dulgath ? Theft of Swords ? Rise of Empire ? Heir of Novron
Personally, I prefer order of publication, but I’ve heard from people who have read chronologically and they’ve been equally pleased with the experience.
If you are wondering if there will be a next Royce and Hadrian story, the answer is: I just don’t know. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m protective of the duo and would rather have them leave early than stay too long. Because of that, I never know if there will be more until after a Chronicle’s release. If you want to advocate for more, by all means drop me an email. Even if you don’t, you can still reach out. I always love hearing from people. My address is: [email protected].
One of the really cool things about this project was the ability to showcase an aspiring writer’s work. We asked for submissions from anyone and everyone. I sifted through 176 entries and narrowed it down to fifteen good stories. From there it went to the final three. Robin helped me decide on the winner. I wish all of them could have been included—each one was deserving. In today’s super-saturated world of publishing, exposure often makes the difference between success and failure. Robin and I hope that you’ll like the story we’ve included, and if you do, please look for more from T.C. Powell and help spread the word.
One last thing I should mention. If you are interested in learning more about the novel creation process, I’ve created an e-book entitled: The Making of the Death of Dulgath. It’s free, so just drop me an email at the address above. Some people might find the process interesting.
Now turn the page, tap the screen, or adjust the volume. Old friends are waiting to take you on a new adventure.
Thanks for all the amazing support.
Michael J. Sullivan
October 2015
To 1,876 generous backers
and one amazingly supportive woman.
I couldn’t have done it without you.
Maps
It is difficult to get high resolution maps to show up well on some e-reader devices. For this reason, there are high resolution copies of the maps online, which you can reference at your pleasure.They can be found at: http://www.michaelsullivan-author.com/maps.html. You can also access them at the following links: Map of Elan | Details of Dulgath Region.
Detail Map of the area where The Death of Dulgath takes place.
Contents
Praise for Sullivan’s Work
Copyright
About the Book
Author’s Note
Dedication
Maps
Chapter 1: The New Sign
Chapter 2: The Artist
Chapter 3: Maranon
Chapter 4: Beyond the Sea
Chapter 5: Castle Dulgath
Chapter 6: The House and the Bedchamber
Chapter 7: A Game of Ten Fingers
Chapter 8: Eye of the Hurricane
Chapter 9: Theft of Swords
Chapter 10: Ghost in the Courtyard
Chapter 11: Brecken Moor
Chapter 12: Lady Dulgath
Chapter 13: Fawkes and Hounds
Chapter 14: The Note
Chapter 15: The Painting
Chapter 16: The Road South
Chapter 17: Shervin Gerami
Chapter 18: Broken Bones
Chapter 19: Pageantry
Chapter 20: Assassin
Chapter 21: The Storm
Chapter 22: Long Story Short
Chapter 23: Monastery by Night
Chapter 24: A Need to Kill
Chapter 25: The Fifth Thing
Afterword
Sneak Peek: Age of Myth
Bonus Short: The Methuselah Treatment by T. C. Powell
Acknowledgments
Works by Michael J. Sullivan
Chapter One
The New Sign
If anyone had asked Royce Melborn what he hated most at that moment, he would’ve said dogs. Dogs and dwarves topped his list, both equally despised for having so much in common—each was short, vicious, and inexcusably hairy. Royce’s contempt for them had grown over the years for the same reason: They had caused him an incalculable amount of grief and pain.
That night it was a dog.
At first, he thought the furry creature on the mattress in the third-floor bedroom was a rodent. The dark thing with a curled tail and flat nose was small enough to be a good-sized sewer rat. Royce was pondering how a rat had gotten into a posh place like the Hemley Estate when it rose to its feet. The two stared at each other, Royce in his hooded cloak holding the diary and the mongrel on its four tiny legs. One second of held breath lasted long enough for Royce to realize his mistake. He cringed, knowing what would come next, what always came next, and the little beast didn’t disappoint.
The mutt began barking. Not a respectable growl or deep-throated woof but an ear-piercing series of high-pitched yaps.
Definitely not a rat. Why couldn’t you be a rat? I never have problems with rats.
Royce reached for his dagger, but the rodent-dog leapt away, its tiny nails skittering on the hardwood. He hoped it would flee. Even if the little monster woke its master, it wouldn’t be able to explain that a hooded stranger had invaded Lady Martel’s boudoir. Aroused from a blissful sleep, the owner might throw something at the mutt to shut it up. But this was a dog, after all, and like dwarves they never did what he wanted. Instead, the animal stayed a safe distance away, yipping its turnip-sized head off.
How can such a tiny thing make so much noise?
The sound echoed off marble and mahogany, amplifying into a wailing alarm.
Royce did the only thing he could: He leapt out the window. Not his planned exit, not even his third choice, but the poplar tree was within jumping distance. He caught a broad branch, pleased it didn’t break under his weight. The tree, however, shook, rustling loudly in the quiet of the dark courtyard. By the time his feet hit the ground, Royce wasn’t surprised to hear—
“Stop right there!” The husky voice was perfectly suited for the job.
Royce froze. The man coming at him held a crossbow: cocked, loaded, and aimed at his chest. The guard looked disappointingly competent; even his uniform was neat. Every button accounted for and glinting in the moonlight, each crease sharp as a blade. The guy had to be an overachiever, or worse—a professional soldier reduced to guard duty.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”