The Order of The Rose: Forsaken Petal (Book 1) Read online



  Order of The Rose: Forsaken Petal

  By

  Joshua D. Hoyt

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank my amazing wife who has read and edited the book several times putting in many hours of fixing all the many comma mistakes that I make. Ria Mendoza from OrangeJar.com who created the amazing cover (check out her sight she is an amazing artist!), and my children who are very patient with the many hours I spend on the computer and for their encouragement and making me feel so good when they tell me they love my book. Last but not least my amazing editor, my mom.

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, situations and events portrayed in this novel are from the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, people, living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or mechanical without expressed written permission from Joshua D. Hoyt.

  Copyright © 2014 Joshua D. Hoyt

  Table of Contents:

  Prologue:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue:

  About The Author

  Excerpt from Order of The Rose: Black Petal (Book 2)

  Prologue:

  A knock at the front door woke Tom from dreams of tiny soldiers battling across a wooden floor. Another knock, more forceful than the first, brought him even more out of the land of sleep and into the land of the living. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and pushed his face into his pillow, not yet ready to let go of the dream. No longer a knock, a bang on the door bounced off the white plastered walls of the foyer, up the carpeted stairs and down the hall to Tom’s room, finally to land on Tom’s small ears. Tom sat up. The land of the living, peaked his interest, Could it be Father?

  High heeled shoes tapped as they crossed the marble floor of the foyer sounding like little artillery explosions. Tom slid out of bed onto the rug. The thick rug ran from his bed to the edge of his bedroom door like a path through a dark forest. A sharp click echoed from the latch below, and the heavy front door opened. Tom clenched the toy soldier his father had just given him for his fifth birthday as he ran to the landing above the large hall. His small hand grasped the white bar of the baluster and he looked down into the foyer. Below a woman and man talked to the maid, Anna. “We must see your mistress at once,” the woman said.

  His heart sank, It’s not father. Still the newcomers caught his interest. Who are they? The woman’s black hair caught the glow of the chandelier as it fell across her red dress. The man, standing just a little behind the woman looked like a giant. The light reflected off his shaved head. His black beard, carefully trimmed, outlined his muscular jaw. The long sword strapped across his back stood out against the man’s black suit. As Anna disappeared down the hall, the woman turned to whisper to the man. What are they talking about? Tom thought as he peered down at them. Maybe they’re here about father?

  A few minutes later, Mother hurried to the woman, holding her hands out. They clasped hands and his mother’s lips brushed the other woman’s cheek. “We can talk in here,” his mother said, heading to the sitting room. The woman followed with the man close behind. Then Anna followed with a tray of tea.

  Hand clasping the toy soldier, Tom crept down the stairs. His eyes darted nervously from side to side. At the bottom of the stairs, seeing no one, he darted across the entryway and stopped just outside the sitting room. Peering in, he saw Anna handing cups to the woman and man and then to his mother. She set the tray on the table and, turning, walked toward the door.

  Tom slipped into the nearby coat closet and eased the door closed behind him enveloping the space in darkness. He held his breath until he heard Anna’s steps recede down the hall, then opened the door a crack allowing light to burst in to the closet. He sighed and pressed his ear to the door. Only muffled voices could be heard. After he dared move Tom slipped out of the closet and closed the door behind him. He sank to his knees and crawled to the sitting room. When he reached the double oak doors, he heard the woman shout, “You have a responsibility to the order.”

  “Why am I to be more responsible than they?” his mother asked.

  “Must I remind you of your oath as well?” demanded the woman. “The responsibility is yours and yours alone.”

  “I sacrificed a son once before, and I’ll not do it again,” his mother whispered.

  What sacrifice? Tom wondered. What’s mama talking about?

  “I sorrow for your loss, sister,” the woman said, “but there’s nothing that can be done. Without the law we are no different than the witches.” A cup clanged on the tabletop and clothing rustled as someone stood. “We’ll return tomorrow and collect the boy,” the woman said.

  Tom hurried to the stairs. By the time he reached the landing, the woman had reached the front door. The big man stood at attention next to her. His mother opened the door and the couple left without a word. She turned and quickly brushed tears from her eyes. She looked up, and seeing him she put on a smile.

  Even to young Tom’s eyes, his mother had aged in the past few days. Her eyes had changed the most. They no longer gleamed when she smiled. His mother hurried up the stairs and with a broad smile she gazed lovingly down at the small boy with the curly, blonde hair. He smiled weakly up at her, hoping he wouldn’t get in to too much trouble.

  His mother bent down to him and held him tight. “Tom, you have to go to a new home tomorrow. It’ll just be for a short time.” She looked into his blue eyes. “After your father gets back, we’ll come and get you.” He whimpered, as he thought about leaving his mother. She gave him a stern look then said, “Remember, you must be strong. You’re an Alerio.”

  He nodded and wiped at his red eyes. “I know Mother. I will be.” She pulled him close as she lifted him into her arms and looked into his blue eyes. Tom couldn’t help but smile and grasped her around her neck, hugging her tight. She hugged him back as she carried him down the hallway to his room and laid him gently on the bed. After pulling the covers over his shoulders, she looked at him for a moment longer, leaned over, and kissed him on the forehead. He reached up and grabbed her around the neck again. Holding her tight he said, “I love you mamma.”

  She squeezed him. “And I love you, Tom.”