Star of the Morning Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for the Novels of the Nine Kingdoms

  A Tapestry of Spells

  “Charming, romantic, and verging on the wistfully sweet . . . Kurland deftly mixes innocent romance with adventure in a tale that will leave readers eager for the next installment.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Lynn Kurland has created a rich fantasy world beyond compare . . . I am always surprised by Ms. Kurland’s ability to spin out the story with so much imagination. One can only wonder what her dreams are actually like.” —The Romance Readers Connection

  “[Kurland] truly shines in the Nine Kingdom books.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “Fans will feel the author magically transported them to her realm as Ruith now fights against what his father wrought while concealing secrets from his new ally who does likewise.”

  —The Best Reviews

  Princess of the Sword

  “Packed with enchantment, adventure, terrifying battles, and a love so strong that no wizard or mage can affect it . . . Beautifully written, with an intricately detailed society born of Ms. Kurland’s remarkable imagination, this is an extraordinary tale for fantasy readers as well as those who just want to read a good love story.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Over the course of this splendid trilogy, Kurland has provided an action-packed fantasy as well as a beautiful love story between characters who respect each other’s talents.” —Romantic Times

  “An excellent finish to a great romantic quest fantasy . . . readers will relish Ms. Kurland’s superb trilogy.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “An intelligent, involving tale full of love and adventure . . . If you enjoy vast worlds, quiet love stories, and especially fantasy, I would suggest you give this trilogy a try.” —All About Romance

  The Mage’s Daughter

  “Lynn Kurland has become one of my favorite fantasy authors; I can hardly wait to see what happens next.” —Huntress Reviews

  “The fantasy world, drawn so beautifully, is too wonderful to miss any of it. Brilliant!” —ParaNormal Romance Reviews

  “A fabulous . . . tale that sets the stage for an incredible finish.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  More Praise for the Novels of Lynn Kurland

  Dreams of Stardust

  “A masterful storyteller . . . [a] mesmerizing novel.”

  —Romance Junkies

  “Each new book is cause for celebration!” —Fresh Fiction

  A Garden in the Rain

  “Kurland laces her exquisitely romantic, utterly bewitching blend of contemporary romance and time travel with a delectable touch of tart wit.” —Booklist

  “[Kurland] consistently delivers the kind of stories readers dream about.” —The Oakland (MI) Press

  “Kurland out-writes romance fiction’s top authors by a mile.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  From This Moment On

  “A disarming blend of romance, suspense, and heartwarming humor, this book is romantic comedy at its best.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A deftly plotted delight.” —Booklist

  My Heart Stood Still

  “The essence of pure romance. Sweet, poignant, and truly magical, this is a rare treat.” —Booklist

  If I Had You

  “Kurland brings history to life . . . in this tender medieval romance.” —Booklist

  The More I See You

  “Blends history with spellbinding passion and impressive characterization, not to mention a magnificent plot.” —Rendezvous

  Another Chance to Dream

  “Kurland creates a special romance.” —Publishers Weekly

  The Very Thought of You

  “[A] masterpiece . . . this fabulous tale will enchant anyone who reads it.” —Painted Rock Reviews

  This Is All I Ask

  “Both powerful and sensitive . . . A wonderfully rich and rewarding book.” —Susan Wiggs

  A Dance Through Time

  “An irresistibly fast and funny romp across time.”

  —Stella Cameron

  Titles by Lynn Kurland

  STARDUST OF YESTERDAY

  A DANCE THROUGH TIME

  THIS IS ALL I ASK

  THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU

  ANOTHER CHANCE TO DREAM

  THE MORE I SEE YOU

  IF I HAD YOU

  MY HEART STOOD STILL

  FROM THIS MOMENT ON

  A GARDEN IN THE RAIN

  DREAMS OF STARDUST

  MUCH ADO IN THE MOONLIGHT

  WHEN I FALL IN LOVE

  WITH EVERY BREATH

  TILL THERE WAS YOU

  The Novels of the Nine Kingdoms

  STAR OF THE MORNING

  THE MAGE’S DAUGHTER

  PRINCESS OF THE SWORD

  A TAPESTRY OF SPELLS

  Anthologies

  THE CHRISTMAS CAT

  (with Julie Beard, Barbara Bretton, and Jo Beverley)

  CHRISTMAS SPIRITS

  (with Casey Claybourne, Elizabeth Bevarly, and Jenny Lykins)

  VEILS OF TIME

  (with Maggie Shayne, Angie Ray, and Ingrid Weaver)

  OPPOSITES ATTRACT

  (with Elizabeth Bevarly, Emily Carmichael, and Elda Minger)

  LOVE CAME JUST IN TIME

  A KNIGHT’S VOW

  (with Patricia Potter, Deborah Simmons, and Glynnis Campbell)

  TAPESTRY

  (with Madeline Hunter, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and Karen Marie Moning)

  TO WEAVE A WEB OF MAGIC

  (with Patricia A. McKillip, Sharon Shinn, and Claire Delacroix)

  THE QUEEN IN WINTER

  (with Sharon Shinn, Claire Delacroix, and Sarah Monette)

  A TIME FOR LOVE

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  STAR OF THE MORNING

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation trade edition / December 2006

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / December 2010

  Copyright © 2008 by Lynn Curland.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-44580-8

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Prologue

  It was a splendid day to be dealing out death. Adhémar, king of Neroche, nodded to himself over the thought, though he suspected that nothing so exciting would actually come to pass. He was out for a simple jaunt along his northern borders, not a pitched battle. Indeed, it had been so long since he’d encountered any trouble that it seemed that the only thing he did with his sword these days was prop it up at his elbow at supper.

  It was a pity, truly. He came from a long line of superior warriors. And he had to admit, quite modestly, that he had inherited more than his fair share of prowess. It wasn’t something he made mention of overmuch; his reign spoke for itself. No disasters since he’d taken the crown fourteen years earlier, no wars with neighboring kingdoms, no real trouble with the menace in the north. That sort of peace was a fine accomplishment, though it had robbed him of as many exploits to brag of as he would have liked. At least there was nothing of a disastrous nature for some bold-tongued bard to use to entertain those less respectful of a king’s burden.

  Aye, it was a good life. Adhémar looked about him in satisfaction. He was surrounded by his most elite guardsmen, each of them equal to an entire garrison of a lesser king. His castle, Tor Neroche, hovered on the sheer side of a mountain behind him like a fearsome bird of prey. Even kings of other lands shivered a bit when they rode beneath the shadows of those battlements. And who could blame them? It was impressive in the extreme.

  And there were the more personal particulars to consider. Adhémar turned to those with a decent amount of enthusiasm. He examined himself, looking for flaws. It was difficult to find many, though he was surely more critical of himself than he was of anyone else. He was young, for a king of Neroche; he was handsome, based on reports by others he knew to be perfectly impartial; and his entire life had been full of might, magic, and many other kings wishing they could be him.

  And now to be out and about, savoring the first days of what promised to be a glorious autumn, knowing that the seasons would stretch out ahead of him in as fine a manner as they trailed off behind him. He listened to the jingle of tack and the low conversings of his men and knew deep in his heart that today would be yet another day that would pass peacefully and quietly into the splendor that was his reign.

  And then, quite suddenly, things changed.

  There was the sound of a slap. Adhémar turned around in his saddle to find the man behind him looking quite surprised to see an arrow sticking out of his chest. The man met Adhémar’s eyes.

  “My liege,” he said before he slid off his horse and fell to the ground. He did not move again.

  Adhémar turned to face the assault. It came, somewhat surprisingly, from a bit of forest to the north of the road. Adhémar cursed as he spurred his horse forward. Surely someone could have warned him about this. There were mages aplenty in his kingdom and one in particular whose duty it was to see that their northern borders were secure. There would be words later, to be sure.

  But for now he would do what he did best, and that would be to intimidate and terrify his foes with his sheer presence alone. That and the Sword of Neroche, the king’s sword that had struck fear into the hearts of innumerable enemies in the past. Adhémar drew his sword with a flourish. It blazed with a bloodred magelight that sent his enemies scattering.

  Adhémar bellowed his war cry and followed, with his men hard on his heels. They cut through the enemy easily, soon leaving the ground littered with the bodies of the fallen. Adhémar paused on the far side of the glade and examined the corpses from his vantage point atop his horse. The lads before him weren’t precisely of the sort he was accustomed to encountering. Indeed, he suspected that they weren’t precisely human. He found himself hoping, with a desperation that never found home in his breast, that he was imagining what he was seeing.

  He watched his men finish up their work, then resheathed his sword and nodded to his captain to move on. The men made their way up the small hillock to the road, looking over their shoulders uneasily. Adhémar normally wouldn’t have admitted that he understood such looks, but he could not lie and say he did not. There was something fell about these creatures, fell and foul and not of this world. And here he’d thought that pesky black mage to the north had been contained.

  Obviously not.

  He looked over his shoulder for one last quick count of the dead. He counted two score.

  But apparently that wasn’t all.

  Adhémar watched, openmouthed, as from those trees stepped one last something that was definitely not a man.

  Adhémar’s captain checked his horse and started back toward the creature. Adhémar called him off. If this spoil belonged to anyone, it was to the king. Adhémar wheeled his horse around and urged it forward, but despite its training, the horse reared with fear. Adhémar, despite his training, lost his seat and landed on the ground in an undignified sprawl. He scrambled back up to his feet with a curse. He twitched aside his finely wrought cloak and drew his sword. The magelight shone forth brilliantly.

  Then it went out.

  A blinding headache struck him at the same time. Adhémar reeled, but managed to shake his head hard enough to clear it. He took a minute to look at his sword in astonishment. This was beginning to smell like a disaster. He drew his sleeve across his eyes, trying to wipe away the sudden sweat. Damnation, would the indignities never end this day? He resheathed the sword with a curse, then drew it forth again with a flourish.

  Nothing. Not even a flicker.

  He took the sword and banged it with enthusiasm against its scabbard.

  Dull as stone.

  He spat out a spell or two, but before he could wait to see if they were going to take effect, his enemy had taken him by a gnarled, four-fingered hand and flung him across the clearing.

  Adhémar narrowly missed landing in a very unyielding clutch of rocks. He sat up, looked around blearily, then realized that he was no longer holding on to his sword. He looked around frantically for it, then saw a shadow fall over him. The creature who had thrown him across the clearing was standing above him with its sword raised, preparing to plunge it through Adhémar’s chest.

  Then the creature paused. His face, gnarled in the same manner as his hands, wore what might have been termed a look of surprise. Then he slowly began to tip forward. Adhémar rolled out of the way before the creature crashed to the ground. There was a sword hilt sticking out of his back.

  A hand pulled him to his feet and shoved his blade back at him. Adhémar nodded his thanks and resheathed his useless sword. The headache and that unset
tling weakness were receding so quickly, he almost wondered if he’d imagined both. It was with an unwholesome sense of relief that he put the whole episode behind him.

  Well, except for the discovery that his sword was now apparently quite useless for anything more than carving enemies in twain.

  He walked swiftly back to his horse. All was not well in the kingdom and he knew just whom to blame.

  He swung up onto his horse’s back, then nodded for his company to return to the keep. Someone would need to come back to see to the corpses. Perhaps then he would have answers as to what sort of creatures they had been and who had spawned them.