Time for another preview of The Gray Kings, the upcoming third volume in the Graylands saga.
Here, we catch up with “notorious outlaw” Krutch Leeroy as he finds himself in a tight spot….
It occurred to Krutch that, in spite of his rotten reputation and worse luck, he’d only seen the inside of a proper dungeon once.
The room was bare, with no windows or furnishing of any kind save the lone table and seat. It wasn’t lit with a brazier or even candles, but with four glowing crystals posted at each corner that gave off a sterile, cold light. At a guess, he assumed this to be an interrogation room, and took comfort in seeing there were no torture devices. As it was, his only real discomfort were the metal cuffs binding his wrists together.
At least it’s warmer in here than outside, he thought as his captors entered.
The first was Jeremiah Escudo, a young man of Mezan descent by the look of his tanned face and dark hair. He wore basic leathers, looking like a ranger of some sort, but was distinguished by the green cloak worn over his coat. Though outwardly poised, his brown eyes were fierce and focused. In his hands, he carried Krutch’s pistol and the two bandolier belts where he kept the shells.
With him was Major Sonya Brayker—an impressive woman of muscle with short brown hair, dark eyes, and a thick scar down the right side of her face. Though without armor, she wore the recognizable red and blue colors of the Sentry Elite, and she strolled into the room with the swagger of someone in command. Under her arm was a thick folder of papers which she placed on the table without taking her eyes off their prisoner.
“Krutch Leeroy,” she said, chewing on something. “The Krutch Leeroy … right here in my base.”
“It would seem so.”
She studied him with a wry smirk on her face. Her lips tightened, and she revealed she was in fact chewing tobacco when she spat brown fluid on the floor. “You,” she said, turning to Escudo. “You’re the guy who got him?”
“Yes. I caught him some miles south of Joval. He was conspiring with those Crimson Raven thugs that have been terrorizing the countryside of late.”
“Hey,” said Krutch. “They came to me. I told them to piss off.”
“Yeah,” Brayker muttered, ignoring him. “I’ve been hearing about those jokers lately. So, who are you? Mercenary?”
“No,” he replied. “I am of the Guardian Mages.”
“The Guardians? Isn’t Leeroy a little below you fellas’ pay-grade?”
“Ordinarily. But I have my own reasons.”
He kept his voice calm but shot Krutch a burning glare. Krutch felt compelled to apologize, though for what, he wasn’t sure. During their confrontation some miles south of Joval, the Mage mentioned someone named Anton Curar, although who that was or why they would inspire Escudo’s grudge remained a mystery. He was tempted to ask but saw little point. There was always a story.
Brayker studied him again, this time with a slight frown. She chewed on her tobacco and narrowed her eyes, as if trying to decipher a code. It was a look Krutch had grown familiar with, and it culminated in the expected comment: “I always figured he’d be taller. You sure you got the right guy?”
“I understand what you mean,” Escudo said. “When I first started following him, even I thought I’d only found an imposter using Leeroy’s name.”
“You never know,” she said, scratching at her hair. “I heard there’s even some bitch goin’ around claiming to be Katrina Lamont. You know? The Princess?”
“Disgraceful. But at any rate: this is indeed the real Krutch Leeroy, and trust me, he’s a slippery little bastard. He almost got away from me with this damnable thing.”
He passed the pistol to Brayker, who inspected it with an impressed expression. Krutch rolled his eyes, wondering if Escudo understood how close that almost was. In truth, had he been so inclined, he could’ve easily shot the Mage dead and walked away a free man. He didn’t have many genuine talents, but he’d grown quite adept at using the gun he’d named Arkady.
Had Escudo been just another mercenary or would-be rival, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But he didn’t like the idea of killing a legitimate peacekeeper and shot only to distract.
What I get for being a nice guy.
“This is his infamous ‘magic weapon,’ eh? The thing that can summon thunder and shoot fire?”
“Hardly anything magic about it,” Escudo said, taking the gun back and stuffing it in his inside pocket. “Loathsome machines, and should absolutely not be left in the hands of scum like him. Once Leeroy is taken care of, I intend to bring it to the Guardians.”
“So,” said Krutch. “When I want it back, I should go to you then?”
“Look at this guy,” Brayker said. “Never figured you for a sense of humor, Leeroy.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”
“I’ll bet you are,” she said, picking up the folder and leafing through it. “Let’s see … Krutchington Barnabas Leeroy, Jr. Place of birth unknown, date unknown. Alleged to—”
“I’m from Elmlocke.”
The Major frowned at the interruption, while Escudo appeared surprised he’d reveal something about himself so freely.
“It’s not a secret,” he said. “Was it supposed to be?”
Brayker grumbled before continuing: “Alleged to have begun his life of crime as early as the age of fifteen, though some say twelve. Started with petty robbery and mugging before moving on to proper piracy. And it’s from there you really take off. Pillaging, raiding, smuggling, buggery, forgery … suspected of, but not limited to, stealing the sacred Eye of Tyrileanous from the Brotherhood of Karson, defiling Altars of Khushee in multiple cities, burning the Marko Library of the High Eldér, and to say nothing of the multiple kidnappings. Including royalty.”
She flipped through the file’s pages, indicating there was far more to say, and simply dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud.
“Quite the story. And that’s just the old stuff. Word is you played a key part in the mess that went down in Seba. Before that: involved with the dragon that appeared over the Blind Cliffs last year. And now I’m hearing you assassinated the Magistrate of Bartlett over the summer. You have anything to say about all that, Leeroy?”
Krutch listened, taking in his many alleged crimes and supposed biography. He knew some of the wild rumors regarding his infamy, though they tended to blur together. But this was one of the first times he heard many of his official crimes actually listed out. They did indeed make him sound like a nefarious and diabolical man.
“How old do you think I am?”
Brayker and Escudo exchanged a perplexed glance. “Come again?”
“How old do you think I am?” he repeated. “Because I know the Marko Library fire did actually happen … thirty years ago. So, let’s try a math problem: what age would I have to be to have pulled off that stunt? I’ll give you a hint: I’m not that old.”
His captors frowned, although he wasn’t sure if it was because they realized the discrepancy, or just didn’t appreciate his tone.
“Also,” he continued. “You say the Magistrate of Bartlett was assassinated over the summer. How could I have killed him if I was starting a riot in Seba at the same time?”
Brayker smacked him upside the head, confirming it was his tone more than the logic of his argument. He couldn’t say that surprised him either. Explaining his supposed crimes was akin to speaking to a brick wall.
The Major might’ve done more, but Escudo kept her in check. “What are you saying, Leeroy?” he asked. “Are you suggesting you were framed? I’ll allow the tales of your exploits have likely been exaggerated, but do you expect us to believe you’re innocent? All these crimes and horror, and you just happen to be unfortunate enough to be the one they’re blamed on?”
“Gee,” he muttered. “It’s almost like I’m cursed or something.”
“Piss on this turd!” Brayker moaned. “You know, Escudo, we got a hangman right here at the base. He’d be glad to string this prick up even in a blizzard.”
“No doubt, Major, but I want Leeroy to face a proper trial before an audience witnesses his death. I’ve waited a long time to see this man brought to justice, and I intend to follow it to the letter. He will go to Beacon.”
Escudo’s face was locked in a scowl as he spoke. Simmering anger was in his voice, and Krutch suspected the Mage’s mission was more than mere duty. Whoever that Curar person was, and whatever he was supposed to have done, it made Escudo’s task personal.
“If you would let me keep him here until the storm passes,” he continued. “I would be most grateful.”
Brayker sneered, her eyes locked on Krutch. “Fine,” she said. “You’re in luck. We executed our last prisoner earlier this week. Whole stockade just for you, Leeroy.”
“Lucky me.”
“I expect,” Escudo said, “even when the storm passes, travel will be an issue for at least a few days. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“Not at all. We got plenty of supplies, so feel free to hunker down. As for Leeroy here, the troops will be excited to know we have such a big name in our midst. In fact, I don’t think there’s a man or woman here that doesn’t have a Leeroy story or know someone who does.” She turned to Krutch, looked him in the eye, and flashed a toothy grin. “You ain’t going nowhere, little man.”
“Neat.”
Unfortunately, I still can’t commit to a release date just yet. I’m waiting on the cover art, and my artist is busy, so I don’t have a time-table right now as to when that’ll be done.
I’m hoping for early summer.
In the meantime, expect some more previews until then, and if you haven’t already, be sure to check out the previous two installments of the Graylands saga:
The Ghost Princess is available as e-book and paperback HERE and on itch.io
The Jinxed Pirate can also be found HERE and on itch.io, too.
Graylands and The Gray Kings ©2026 by M. Walsh
M. Walsh 