Seer

Jules Cory

Description

After leaving the royal court, Tallen finds herself drawn back to the politics of a kingdom increasingly beset by war. The return of her father's sword comes at the price of reclaiming her heritage as a Dragonslayer, while the stakes for both her personal and her prince's freedom are becoming increasing costly. Sent on a covert mission from her king, Tallen travels to obtain information regarding the stolen Empathy Crystal. However, Tallen soon discovers that there are other plans for her that involve her bloodline and her claim to a potentially lethal weapon. The journey becomes increasingly dangerous as others scheme to control the destructive potential of her Dragonslayer ancestry, resulting in battles with pirates and northern raiders. Her personal enemy, Villermir, is also never far from causing trouble as he learns to control the Empathy Crystal, harnessing its devastating force to crush her.While the monotheistic patriarchy of Baila extends its tendrils into the souls of new believers, daemons and the old Gods start to take a more active role in the lives of men. Tallen finds wonders and miracles hidden in her Empathy bloodline, and a strength and resilience in her Dragonslayer blood. But dark shadows are now gathering that will require further exploration of her magical inheritance.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• High fantasy
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 janvier 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838597658
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2020 Jules Cory

The moral right of the author has been asserted.


Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.


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ISBN 9781838597658

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For those who still believe.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue
Chapter One
The day had started so perfectly. The smooth peaks of Cloud Mountain hovered over the trees. The dawn mist was still clinging to the hills, softening and blending the edges. The woodcutter’s cottage nestled in a sea of green as the forest started to show its autumn finery. A few leaves had turned to scarlet or gold, a striking counterpoint of colour in the lush canopy. The winds had been light that season, allowing the foliage to stay on the trees and provide shelter for the creatures that took advantage of the available food bounty before winter. Birds, squirrels and small rodents feasted on the berries, grains and nuts. My basket was full of the mushrooms that were thickly carpeting the ground.
But something was wrong. The cabin was too quiet; no birds sang in the branches around the low-lying timber building, no squirrels foraged along the garden borders. The dwelling was a little too still. The doorway was slightly ajar, and I knew I had closed it. Old habits returned easily. I stayed within the shadows of the treeline as I crept closer to the cottage. I was approaching the front of the dwelling, so I could not see if a horse had been tied to the rail along the right of the building. I strained to listen for the noise of restless hooves, but heard nothing. A headache was forming between my eyes as my heart increased its pace. I tried to convince myself that it was just Kennig, the woodcutter, come to check on me before winter seized his joints. My mind dismissed this train of thought in favour of more ominous possibilities. It was unusual for Lindvane to raid this far into Faulknar, but not unheard of. More likely possibilities involved bandits and petty criminals searching for plunder. While not as violent as the Lindvane raiders, they still posed a serious threat to a young woman on her own. I cursed myself for leaving my sword in the cottage, but rejected obtaining a branch to use as a weapon. My belt dagger would suffice, and hunting had kept my throwing skills fresh.
I watched the wooden hut, assessing the danger before sneaking up to the left side, avoiding the single window so I would not be seen by anyone inside. The breeze must have carried my scent around the building, causing the horses to snort anxiously. I identified two. It seemed the bandit had not come alone. I concentrated on slowing my breathing, but my heart refused to calm. Drying my sweating palms on my leather trousers, I moved around to the front window and peeped into the single room. I could only see one stranger. He had his back to me, kneeling in front of the fireplace. I had a clear shot but was loath to relinquish my only weapon. I did not know where the other rider was. I bit my lip as I considered my options and eased the shutters open a little further to allow a wider view. The man stood and started to turn. Instinct took over as I drew back my arm and threw the blade.
I had released the knife a heartbeat before I recognised who was turning to face me. Anxiety for my own safety turned to concern for my visitor as the blade flew straight towards his throat. A flash of blue light deflected the dagger a hand-width from his neck.
Drey smiled. ‘It’s good to see you have retained your skills.’
I stared at him for several heartbeats, my mouth falling open as my brain tried to understand what had just happened.
‘For the love of Mobis, Drey!’ I spluttered eventually. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?’
The pressure from my headache was added to by the ache of a deepening frown, as my mind tried desperately to catch up. I walked round to the door as Drey rummaged around the cottage. I stood in the doorway watching him.
‘What are you looking for?’
He turned to face me, his forehead creased by his own puckered brow. ‘Do you keep anything in this place?’
‘There’s rose hip and mint on the shelf above the fire. Behind the cups.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘And food?’
‘I’ve some mushrooms outside.’ I had left the basket of wild fungi at the edge of the forest: I would have to go and retrieve that.
‘Anything to go with the mushrooms?’ He resumed his rummaging. ‘Eggs? Bread? By the Goddess, Tallen. How can you live in this mess?’ He looked up. ‘And what have you done to your hair?’
I pulled at the ragged strands of my hair that had been irregularly shorn with my dagger when they grew too long. ‘What’s wrong with my hair?’ I grumbled. ‘It’s functional. And I don’t get many visitors.’ I moved to tidy some clothes off the bed and straighten the sheets. ‘Have you come here just to complain about my housekeeping skills or was there another reason?’
His frown deepened. ‘No. I’m here for other reasons.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘But tea first.’
I had fetched the mushrooms and we had both finished our drinks before Drey explained why he was here.
‘It’s time to come home, Tallen.’
‘I am home. Kennig is happy for me to stay here and maintain the place. He doesn’t get up here so much since the accident.’
Drey scowled at me. ‘This is hardly a home.’
‘It suits me fine,’ I persisted.
‘Humph. That may be, but you are needed back at Liegeport.’
It was my turn to glower. ‘I’m no longer welcome there.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘Not according to Breya.’
‘And you just went along with her temper tantrum. It’s not like you to back down in the face of a bully.’
I studied the small scratches on my hands from picking blackberries two days before. ‘People change,’ I said quietly.
Drey hesitated. His tone was gentler when he continued. ‘You can’t hide here forever.’
‘I can try.’
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Well, the world has continued to turn while you have been here. Kyllian has declared war on Gallowgla and Hilman, as well as Lindvane. This summer’s fighting has been the heaviest I’ve seen. The king has had to introduce conscription, against his wishes. Liegeport is bursting with new recruits. But still Faulknar is looking a little isolated at the moment.’
‘And what has that got to do with me?’
Drey glared at me and I was careful to avoid eye contact. ‘You have been called to serve your king,’ he said harshly.
The tea suddenly felt as heavy as soaked soil in my stomach. I had no desire to fight the Lindvanes. I feared going back to Liegeport. ‘Where am I to fight? Can I go straight there? If I am permitted to request a posting, I would fight alongside Keenan.’
‘I’m sure the Lord General would welcome you with him. But Kyllian feels your talents are required away from the front line. For a more secretive role.’
I hesitated as I felt my past catching up with me. ‘And if I refuse?’
‘I would not want to test Kyllian’s temper at the moment.’
I closed my eyes, feeling trapped. It would seem that the deal I’d made as a ten-year-old child was valid for the rest of my life. Shelter and protection in exchange for non-negotiable service to the king. I would steal at my king’s command in repayment for the food and clothing I had required when growing up. I owed Kyllian a debt, and was therefore owned.
‘Then I have no choice.’
Drey remained very still. ‘No,’ he said quietly.

My dream that night was set on a misty battlefield. The colours were garishly bright, painfully vivid. Glistening golds, ruby reds, emerald greens and deep sapphire blues stood out on the billowing banners scattered across the two armies. Shouts and curses ebbed and flowed as the wind and mist swirled the noise in erratic patterns over the fields. Horses stamped and whinnied, unsettled by the nervous energy of their riders and the soldiers around them. The scent of blood and waste had yet to appear, but the sense of fear was palpable in the air. The two armies faced each other, the wide, open space seeming pitifully small in the presence of the hordes of fighters. On the far side, the archers, pikemen, foot soldiers and cavalry rallied under the tusked boar standard of Lindvane. The left flank carried the standard of Hilman, a rearing stag with a golden crown nestled in its antlers. The right flank displayed the majestic eagle of Gallowgla, carrying the salmon of wisdom. Facing th