All the King's Men Read Online Free Page A

Junnomere, and
his entourage were caught in an unexpected sandstorm and forced to take shelter
at Gwyntham’s farm.
    The farmer welcomed the king with open arms, providing him
and his men with the full extent of his hospitality. That night, one of the
king’s courtiers who deemed himself worthy of wearing the crown snuck into the
room where Junnomere was sleeping and stabbed him to death.
    Only the man he stabbed wasn’t Junnomere at all. During
dinner, Gwyntham began to speculate that the dark currents of jealousy and
ambition ran through the king’s men. Before retiring for the night, Gwyntham
had offered to take the king’s place and serve as a decoy. Junnomere hadn’t
wanted to believe any of his men capable of such a heinous act, but he’d
indulged the farmer’s whims, knowing the man’s heart was in the right place.
    When the crime was revealed and the traitor apprehended,
Junnomere was so overcome with gratitude that he took Gwyntham’s first-born son
under his wing. He raised the child as his own, and when he turned
twenty-three, the royal seer proclaimed him to be the first Guardian, charged
with the duty of watching over the king and putting Junnomere’s life before his
own.
    In truth, Kirel had no idea how much of that story was true,
but it sure made for a good tale. For centuries Guardians had been chosen,
trained and instilled with the basic principles of duty above pleasure, the
king above self. Those simple concepts ruled the men’s lives.
    Training began the moment future Guardians could take their
first steps. They were taught to read and write, to reason logically and to
fight as if they’d been born with a sword in their hand. In addition, each man
was taught a trade, in case he was never called to active duty. Some of the Guardians
who weren’t immediately required by the current king would be able to live on
palace grounds and carry out a relatively normal existence until they were
needed.
    Eventually though, they were all needed.
    The minimum age of service was twenty-three. On the day of
their birthday, those who’d been chosen to serve immediately would flawlessly
step into their roles as the king’s private bodyguards. Forbidden to leave the
castle grounds unless it was to accompany their king, the Guardians lived and
breathed duty. Their obligation lasted twenty years…if they lived that long.
Many didn’t.
    In return for two decades of dedicated service and complete
loyalty, those who survived to see the age of retirement were granted a small
piece of land and given leave to spend the rest of their days as they wished.
Kirel had twelve years left.
    Currently, two other Guardians stood alongside Kirel. Thor
was the oldest of the Guardians and as such considered himself a protector of
the Guardians themselves. Domenic, on the other hand, had only been a Guardian
for two years. At twenty-five, he was still young enough to see past the
overwhelming sense of duty and take full advantage of the perks that came with
the job—particularly those perks that came with female attention.
    Kirel didn’t care for such pursuits. Until his service
ended, his life belonged to the king. When he wasn’t on duty, he was free to
roam the castle grounds as he wished. He could take a lover, but the thought
held little appeal. What use would it be to sate his body’s needs in a willing
vessel if his mind and his heart forever belonged to someone else?
    He’d heard the rumors being whispered in dark corners of the
castle. The servants spoke of the recluse Guardian. Some called him a
narcissistic hermit who preferred his own company over that of others. Well, so
be it. If that kind of gossip allowed him a few hours of peace each night, he’d
gladly allow the insinuations to continue.
    Not that he could do much to stop them even if he’d wanted
to. The castle seemed to teem with a life of its own. Driven by its
inhabitants’ penchant for scandal, nothing that happened within its walls
remained secret