More from Song and Sword, the first novel I published, since I’m working on a sequel and need the motivation. This follows immediately after last week’s snippet, which ended with:
He had no idea how long he had walked – it could have been minutes or hours or even days – nothing existed except pain, despair, and Kashrya.
He leaned against the wall of the tunnel, breathing hard, his legs shaking. He slid to the floor, and his back, already a mass of welts and scars, scraped against the rough stone wall. He moaned, his breath tightening in pain, and Kashrya roused slightly, reaching up to touch his cheek.
“Dakkas?” Her voice was weak, but full of concern for him, and he felt a stab of something he couldn’t name as it occurred to him that he didn’t remember there ever being a time when anyone was concerned about him.
“I’m all right,” he said, his voice nothing more than a whisper. He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I just need to rest for a moment…”
His eyes closed, and he realized that it had been an eternity since he had had any real sleep, or food. The Orcs had not wasted food on their prisoners, occasionally tossing some dried bread crusts to them, bread crusts that neither of them had the energy to eat.
Sleep. All he wanted was sleep.
Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince
Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village
Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first
Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast
Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.
But first, they have a problem to solve: how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?
Available for Kindle at Amazon