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I thought I'd show you this. I don't want to tease, not really, but I'm obviously not going to show you the whole book! That would be silly of me! Oh, and can I just add that this excerpt remains the property of Rowan Dragonstorm and must not be reproduced without the authors permission. Thanks for sitting through the legal stuff - shall I let you get on with reading the story now? OK - away you go, just call me when you're done, and I'll guide you through the rest!
She watched the rider from her seat in the corner of the room. The tavern was dim, but the morning sunlight streamed through the open door, creating a long patch of brightness on the dusty, straw-littered floor. She sat and watched as he walked towards the long bar that took up most of the back of the room, his boots kicking dust from the floor as he stepped. The dust swirled and dissipated, settling back onto the ground slowly. Grinning, she pulled back further into her dark corner as he scanned the room, and was happy when his gaze passed her by. He called to the barkeep and ordered an ale, shook the road-dust from his boots and clothes, then leaned on the bar, resting one elbow on its scarred, stained surface, waiting with an air of dignified impatience as the barman drew an ale from one of the oak casks behind him.
She got up from her chair and moved closer as he received his drink, then tapped him smartly on the shoulder, making him jump. “Zen, any change? With Father, I mean.”
He turned, almost spilling his ale, but as he saw the face of the woman who was addressing him, he smiled, and then threw a mock punch in her general direction. “No, sister. If anything, he’s worse. He wouldn’t even let me mention your name. But Mother and Daryn send their greetings,” he said as he smothered a yawn with his free hand.
Cyrena hung her head. Knowing that her Father had dismissed her so thoughtlessly hurt her more than she ever would have believed. Anguish bloomed in her chest and her heart felt heavy with the weight of it. She raised her head and looked her older brother in the eye, hating the look of pity that she saw dawning there. “Well, do you think he’ll change his mind soon? I’d like to go home.”
Zen shook his head, his warriors queue bouncing as he did so. “I don’t think so, Cy. He was really angry with you this time. I’ve never seen him this angry before.” He paused for a moment, taking a gulp of his ale. After setting down his mug on the bar, he ran a hand over his lips, wiping away a thing foam of beer. “Even Mother is keeping her distance in case he starts shouting again!”
Cyrena sighed. He must be bad then, for Mother could often calm him with a few well-chosen words. The young elf sighed again. “Oh well, life goes on. Here, let me pay for that,” she said as the barkeep held out his hand for payment. She reached into her pouch and drew out a triangular silver coin. The barkeep nodded his thanks and placed the coin in a wooden box under the bar. “Are you staying in the village tonight, Zen?” Cyrena asked, shifting her weight a little so she could look up at her brother.
“No,” her brother answered, answering her sigh with one of his own. “I have to ride today. Father is travelling to Bute Port for a meeting and I’m supposed to be going with him. If I ride now, I might get there just after sundown. He made it clear that he wants me to be there, so I must go.” Zen looked at his younger sister, saw the homesickness and despair on her face. He smiled and held out his arms. “Come give your brother a hug.”
They embraced. Cyrena’s head came to her brother’s shoulder and his arms wrapped themselves around her midriff. They hugged so tight that for a moment Cyrena’s feet cleared the floor.
Zen put her down and noticed with relief that she now wore a small smile. “Bye Cyrena. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yes big brother, I will,” she answered, touched by his concern.
She waved as she left the tavern and then headed for the tree on which she had built her platform. The platform was small and flat, covered by cured hides that hung from the branches, and built in a sturdy fashion in the fork of the tree.
Climbing up onto it, Cyrena reflected on her life. She had run away and travelled west this small village, Weir, one of the few villages where elf and human mingled without trouble, hoping that it would only be for a season. But it had been longer than that already. Cyrena knew her Father was a hard person, an Elder had to be, but not even she could have guessed how deep his hatred for her went. They had never really seen eye to eye, but this was ridiculous!
She sat on her bedroll with her head held in her hands. Her long, fine red hair fell forwards, obscuring her face and tears clouded her vision, but she fought them back. They would help her no more now than they had when her Father given her cause to run away...
It had been little more than a childish prank, but Dyrek never took things in the spirit in which they were meant. Rather than pass things off and let it go, he had flown into a towering rage. Fearing for her safety, Cyrena had felt she had little choice than to leave, and to get as far from her Father as she could. She had only packed the necessities - her bedroll, her gauntlet, and enough food to provision her for the walk to Weir...
When Cyrena woke up the next morning her left leg was numb and she stretched it, wincing as life began to return to the sleeping flesh. Hobbling about, she grabbed some dry bread to have for breakfast and cursed herself for falling asleep sitting up.
The sun was already high in the sky and the sounds of the street drifted to her on a warm breeze. Although there were more pressing matters on her mind, Cyrena decided to have a bath.
“Maybe it will clear my mind as well as clean my body,” she announced to the treetops. She wasn’t surprised when they didn’t answer her.
She soon gathered clean clothes and a towel. Dropping from her tree, she began walking east, to the river. Finding a good spot, which was both open but secluded, she shed her clothes and stepped into the slow moving river. Taking another quick look around and seeing no one, she swam to the middle of the river and lingered for a while before returning to the bank. She found a slab of rock that was half shaded by a tree and sat there, letting her slender body soak up some sun.
She was rummaging through her things looking for some soapwort when the sound of a breaking branch alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Cursing herself for not noticing someone approach, she fumbled around for the nearest weapon. After finding a fist-sized chunk of rock, she turned to face the foe. She expected a lusty farm hand or a peeping Tom. She didn’t get what she expected.
“Hello,” said the man who stood before her. He was tall, well dressed in white and smiling. Even the large scar on the right side of his face didn’t detract from the image of someone having a wonderful time, although Cyrena was sure that under other circumstances it could be terrifying.
“H... Hello,” she stammered.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it Cyrena? You are Cyrena, aren’t you?” He smiled wider, showing two rows of pure white teeth that seemed to glow in the sunlight. His white cloak was unmoving in the freshening breeze.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” she asked as she moved away. She grabbed hold of her towel and covered her nakedness. “And when did you get here?” she asked as she stood, wrapping the towel more firmly around herself.
“I am Sisqo. I have always been here,” he answered. “As for knowing your name, I have many such talents.” He shrugged as if the subject were of no consequence. “What you should have asked is why I am here. I have something I wish you to do for me. A quest if you will. It is not dangerous, but it is not something I can do myself. What do you say? Will you do it?”
Cyrena shook her head, half in negation and half in disbelief. How much nerve did this being have, coming along when she was naked, frightening the life out of her and then asking her to do some errand for him! Cyrena had to admit, if only to herself, that she was intrigued, but she had other things to deal with. “Not interested. I think I’ll stay here until my Father lets me go home. It’s only a matter of time.”
Sisqo lifted his head and peered off into space. “Cyrena my dear, I can tell you that before you reach the next town, your Father will be dead. Then you will never need permission to return to your home,” Sisqo answered, his grey eyes turning black.
Cyrena scuttled further back, fear beginning to move down her spine. “Is that your reward for me doing your quest? What kind of man are you?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, child. It is simply that prophecy is another of the talents I told you of earlier. It is something I can see, not something I will do.” His eyes returning to a more natural colour, Sisqo looked back down at Cyrena. “However, back to the issue of the quest. I thought that a young person such as you would like to see the world, have adventures and such. That is the only reason for my asking you. Oh, there is also this,” he said as he threw back his cloak and pulled a sword from its voluminous folds.
Cyrena gasped in surprise and terror. She recognized the sword! But was this man about to use it to kill her?
“Fear not, Cyrena. I will not harm you,” said the Wizard.
“That’s Conat’s sword!” Cyrena gasped in shock.
“Conat?” Sisqo stood for a moment, deep in thought. “Oh yes, your old sword master. Nevertheless, this is not his sword. He is still using that to inflict pain on his pupils. This blade is similar, though. Do you remember the day you graduated? You had hoped that his gift to you would be his sword. You were a little disappointed when he gave you that ugly gauntlet.” Sisqo span the sword over in his hands and Cyrena watched as sunlight glittered and trickled down its sharpened edges. It was true; she had always wanted Conat’s blade. But was this just a bribe?
“No bribe, Cyrena. A gift, pure and simple,” Sisqo said, catching her thought and answering it.
“I wish you would stay out of my head!” Cyrena snapped. “It’s most annoying!”
Sisqo threw back his head and laughed. “Oh girl! You have fire in you; I can see it! Please say you will join the quest. I promise that you will never have cause to regret it.”
Cyrena stood and thought it over. What did she have to lose? All she would be doing otherwise was sitting around and moping about. She could do with a bit of adventure. It was surely better than growing old in this backward village!
Sisqo broke into her thoughts yet again. “Good! If you are decided, travel to Bute Port with haste.” He forced the blade of the sword into the earth at his feet. “And don’t forget your sword!”
Cyrena looked down at the towel that covered her naked body and started to ask if she had the time to dress first, but upon looking up she saw that Sisqo was gone. She looked around, but could see no one. If the sword had not been sticking up out of the ground, she would have dismissed the whole exchange as a hallucination.
She stepped forward and looked around again.
Sisqo was not there.
