Twelfth month, twelfth book of The Academy of the Accord series, bringing us to the end of a year of The Academy of the Accord. I’ll still be working on editing, but probably not posting much from it until it’s ready to release. That was going to be 2018, but don’t anyone hold your breath – there’s still a lot of work to do on this series and I’m now rather optimistically hoping for 2020.
I had a really hard time deciding what to post from this book. Parts of this book have several different versions, so I have no idea if this will make it into the final version or not, but…
Jorsen and Autheren are on their way home from a summer with Jorsen’s family. A village they have to pass through is under the control of the enemy so Yhonshel and Brythel have gone to look for them.
There were half a dozen fighters manning the gate, all them doing battle with one lone cadet. Behind the cadet was the crumpled figure of an apprentice.
“Go to them,” Yhonshel said and Brythel nodded even though he couldn’t be seen, slipping around the fighters and coming in behind Jorsen.
Jorsen was strong, and a skilled fighter, but he was badly out numbered and was hard pressed to hold his own, slowly losing ground as he struggled to protect his wizard.
“Want some help?” Brythel asked cheerfully as he dropped the invisibility spell.
The sudden appearance of a second cadet gave the men pause and Brythel moved forward confidently, pressing the advantage.
“I would hug you right now,” Jorsen muttered. “But I’m a little busy.”
Brythel laughed and cast a flame on the edge of his blade. “You may want to put your weapons down and surrender,” he said. “It will be a lot less painful if you do.”
“Surrender to two cadets and a dead wizard? Bah!” The speaker lunged forward and drew back with a howl of pain as the flame from Brythel’s sword caught his sleeve.
“I told you it would be less painful,” Brythel said. “But you have to learn the hard way.”
“Dead?” Jorsen’s voice held a note of panic.
“Not dead. Stasis spell.”
The man with the burning sleeve managed to pat it out, only to fall to the ground unconscious.
The man next to him turned to face a new enemy but there was no one there and he turned back to Jorsen and Brythel just as the fighter at the other end of the line fell.
“I’d ask, but I think I know the answer,” Jorsen said.
Brythel grinned. “So,” he said, parrying a desperate blow from a frightened opponent. “How was your summer?”
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