When Night Falls

L. Coleman Gerald

Description

When Night Falls is an epic fantasy in the tradition of The Lord of the Rings by Tolkein or The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan. We rarely consider the reputation of our age. An ordinary one, for most of us, would suffice. You might be an Empress too concerned with the affairs of State, a soldier focused on your duty, a former rascal trying to find redemption, or even a great warrior too busy with your command to know that there are whispers being spoken in late-night taverns. But what happens when your ordinary age stops being so ordinary? What happens when dark, twisted, things step out of the mists of legend to walk the world again? Strange, black, ships have been spotted far out at sea. People are disappearing from towns without a trace. Only Cordovan, a member of the Watchmen of Alexandria, knows something is wrong, as he races toward the capital, hoping he will make it in time. Meanwhile, far to the north, two of the ancient Sages of the West, the Ki'gadi, know that the darkness is coming. While the rest of the world carries on, unaware of the danger, they search for the place where the darkness is taking root. Heroes will be needed to face what is coming. Thankfully, Alexandria is home to one. His name is Bantu, the Commander-General of the Peoples Company. He will be the key when night falls.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 10 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781506905792
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE THREE GIFTS



First Edition Design Publishing
WHEN NIGHTFALLS: BOOK ONE OF THE THREE GIFTS
Copyright©2014 Gerald L. Coleman

ISBN 978-1622-875-78-8 PRINT

LCCN 2014937249

May 2014

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



Cover art by Edli Akolli
Maps by Gregory Shipp

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
BOOK ONE

WHEN NIGHT FALLS

By GERALD L.COLEMAN
Author’s Note


This book, well series of books, began as a way of changing theworld of literature, which I love immensely. Growing up I read all the greatscience fiction and epic fantasy I could get my hands on. The house I grew upin was simple, clean, and filled with reading. I have my mother to thank forthat. Some of my earliest memories are of her reading to my brother and I. Sheraised us on her own. One of the greatest gifts she gave us was a love ofreading. While we did not have much in the way of material possessions I wasstill able to travel the universe. I moved through time and space. I rode onthe back of horses with heroes. I fought monsters with them, pushed back theDarkness alongside them, wielding a sword, or magical powers. My mind was alivewith the wonders of far away realms, distant battles, and magicalpossibilities. All the while I learned what it meant to make a difference inthe world.
While I reveled in dragonriders, wizards, knights, elves, and evenhobbits I never really got to see myself reflected in the thousands of pagesthat passed before my eyes. I appropriated the position of hero as an avidreader but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew these heroes did not looklike me. They looked just like most of the square-jawed, white, men I saw ontelevision or at the movies. Even in the comic books I read the same archetypesapplied. There was the occasional Luke Cage: Power Man or Black Panther butmostly the prevailing archetype held. So I decided to write an epic fantasyadventure with all the normal facets, which I have loved so much about thegenre, but with one simple addition. In my adventure everyone would find aheroic character with whom they could identify. To you, the reader, I say thankyou for reading my homage to epic fantasy. I appreciate you taking this journeywith me. I hope you enjoy reading this first book in the series as much as Ihave enjoyed writing it for you.


Gerald L. Coleman
March 2014
For my mother June, for giving me a love of reading and always believingin me, Tim for being the best big brother, and my community of writers, particularlythe Affrilachian Poets …
Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE
Things fall apart
CHAPTER TWO
Keep the home fires burning
CHAPTER THREE
Storm a’ brewing
CHAPTER FOUR
An open door and words between
CHAPTER FIVE
A fork in the road
CHAPTER SIX
And those who carry on
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thoughts of home
CHAPTER EIGHT
A change in the weather
CHAPTER NINE
A touch from the dark
CHAPTER TEN
Holding on and letting go
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Someone watching over me
CHAPTER TWELVE
Of things past
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gifts and graces
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Where need takes us
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Around about midnight
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A caution against favors
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The silent speak
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Questions and answers
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Homecoming
CHAPTER TWENTY
Al’akaz
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As deep as the Wadi
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Where women do not tread
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The debt
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Shadows in the Hall
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The hallowed place of horrors
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Sidesteps
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When visitors come calling
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Challenge
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Moh’di’ba
CHAPTER THIRTY
Selene
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sacrifice
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

… and theymade their bed in darkness, forswearing the light,
the sun hidits face from them even as tears fell from the heavens;
for to thosewho pitched their tent beneath the face of the shadow,
came greattribulation, bathed in fire, leaving them bereft of hope
while theysat among the ruins in sackcloth and ashes crying
out for asalvation that would never come …

- JillisJossen the Mallibarr
Witness tothe burning of Chessa Hollabring
atMandiburg 342 C. E.
WHEN NIGHT FALLS
Prelude

The tea was so hot she had to blow on it before she could sip fromthe small porcelain cup. Its matching, pale-blue saucer, with tiny, yellowflowers winding around its edge, rested on the tips of the fingers of her righthand. With her left hand she raised the delicate cup to her lips. She sippedlightly. The taste of orange blossoms, with a sweet, subtle hint of honey,filled her mouth. The tea’s heat warmed her as it trickled down her throat. Shebreathed in the fresh, cool, evening air that blew across her face as itbrought the smell of mint, mixed with hibiscus, to her. And maybe , shethought, a hint of lilac and honeysuckle? The fragrances filled her nosecausing her to smile brightly. Peace . This place, along with the time ofday, always brought her comfort. She reclined in the oversized chair, on theveranda, as she gazed out on the lush Valley of O’lukaz. Fully leaved treesintermingled with thick stands of flowers in every conceivable color as theyfilled the valley below. It made for a breathtaking sight from her vantagepoint. The house had been built along the rim of the valley to take advantageof the beautiful view.
She loved coming out onto the veranda, leaning over the slattedrailing, or just nestling into Azmatthamelle’s large chair while reveling inthat view. Rocking herself slightly, she mirrored the treetops, as the windturned, then twisted, down into the valley causing them to sway in the breeze.
“Joy of my heart.” His voice was deep, with a rich complexity, asif there were other, fainter, voices echoing behind it, just out of hearing.Caught by surprise, she nearly jumped out of the chair. As it was, she spilledsome of her tea on the front of her dress. The too-white, nearly sheer fabricshimmered as the tea drizzled down its front. Then, in a brief twinkle ofmulti-colored light, the tea disappeared leaving no trace. It was the onlything that kept her from giving him a stern look, even if she would not havemeant it.
Setting the cup lightly on its saucer she placed both on the smalltable nestled against the chair while rising from her seat. Turning, she lookedat him as he stood in the open doorway leading from the house out onto theveranda. When her eyes fell on him it happened. He had taught her how to maskthe effects of the presence so that she would not be so overcome, butsometimes she enjoyed letting herself feel it. He was one of the Glorious Ones.She was only mortal. As he walked onto the veranda, gliding with an unearthlygrace that only they possessed, the presence washed over her. Joyblossomed in her chest. She had to fight to keep tears from filling her eyes. Shelet it wash over her. A slight moan escaped her lips as she swayed almostimperceptibly from one foot to the other. A warm hand cupped her chin thenlifted it, tilting her head back ever so slightly. Opening her eyes she let hersmile stretch across her entire face. By the Ancient, she was giddy!
He shook his head slightly back and forth with a rue smile of hisown adorning his face. His voice rumbled from somewhere deep, almost far off.“Aas, I have taught you how to temper the effects of the Presence yet you stillallow yourself to be overcome.” He was trying to sound stern and failingmiserably. She almost laughed at the faint-hearted attempt.
Aas reached up, placing both of her small hands on his, turningthem so that she could lay her head in them. She took a deep breath, inhalinghim. “I am sorry my love. I only do it when you have been away longer thanusual. My heart leaps that you have returned to me.” Ducking under hisoutstretched arm she threw her arms around him. Even on her tiptoes her facenestled against his body just shy of his chest.
He put his arms around her squeezing gently. She felt as if shecould stay there forever. It was only when he spoke again that she could hearsomething different in his voice. “Aas my love, we must move quickly. I do nothave time to explain fully but something has happened. I must get you tosafety.”
Aas tilted her head back to look up at him. It was then that shenoticed the tears, unshed, but glistening, in his eyes. Today those eyes, whichhe normally liked to be light brown or green, were a hard, slate, gray. Herbreath caught in her throat. She had never, ever , seen Az cry. Pushingback from him she really looked at him. If she had not let the presence overcome her she would have seen it as soon as he came out onto the veranda.His sleeveless, pale-green robe with blue vines embroidered along the seams wasstained with dirt and blood. His long, black, woolly locks hung loose aroundhis shoulders. There were cuts on his arms. She could see bruises that werehard to make out because of his dark brown skin. Her voice caught in herthroat as she spoke, “What … what has happened Azmatthamelle? There has beenviolence? How is that possible?”
Azmatthamelle put one hand on her slim shoulder while brushing ather hair with the other. The tiny bells tied in among the countless braids ofher black hair, which hung to the small of her back, jingled lightly. “ Mnashannanda , my precious.” Be at peace . He said it in the First Tongue.“Blood stains