Jonathan Moeller, Pulp Writer

The books of Jonathan Moeller

Sevenfold Sword

Excerpt Thursday: SEVENFOLD SWORD: CHAMPION

It’s Excerpt Thursday! And since SEVENFOLD SWORD: CHAMPION was a Kindle US Daily Deal yesterday, let’s have an excerpt from CHAMPION!

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“But where am I?” said Ridmark. “What is the name of this land?”

For a moment, bewilderment overruled pain on the old knight’s face. “You truly do not know?”

Ridmark shook his head.

“This is the Nine Cities, the realm of the Nine Kings of Owyllain, ruled by the Pendragon High King in the city of Aenesium,” said Tyromon. “At least, it used to be. Then that harlot Talitha betrayed High King Kothlaric, and the Seven Swords appeared, and…”

Tyromon winced and closed his eyes. He went rigid, and Ridmark feared that death had claimed the old warrior.

“Who are you?” said Tyromon. “I have not long until I stand before the judgment seat of the Dominus Christus, and it seems my vision becomes clearer. You wear the armor of a dark elven lord, yet you have the brand of a coward upon your left cheek, and while you speak Latin, your accent is strange.”

“My name is Ridmark Arban. I am the Shield Knight of Andomhaim.”

“Andomhaim?” said Tyromon, blinking. “No, impossible. The urdmordar destroyed Andomhaim long before our ancestors came here.” His voice was growing fainter.

“An elven wizard called Rhodruthain brought me here,” said Ridmark.

That brought a blaze of wrath to Tyromon’s face. “Rhodruthain? Are you certain?”

“Entirely,” said Ridmark. “He carried a staff of red gold with its end shaped into a dragon’s head.”

“He betrayed us,” said Tyromon. “High King Kothlaric defeated the Sovereign and scattered his hosts, but the Master Talitha and the Guardian betrayed us. This damned war could have been averted.”

“What happened here?” said Ridmark.

“We were betrayed,” said Tyromon. “King Hektor sent us to reinforce the Arcanius Knight Archaelon at Castra Chaeldon. But that scoundrel Archaelon has betrayed us and sided with the Confessor. The Confessor’s soldiers ambushed us, and we were overwhelmed. The orcs took many prisoners and carried them off to the castra. I fear…I fear for their fate. Archaelon has turned to necromancy.”

He shuddered again, sweat pouring down his face.

“Listen to me,” said Ridmark. “Rhodruthain brought my wife and children here as well. A blond woman in a green dress and two small boys. Have you seen them?”

“No,” croaked Tyromon. “Only…one woman. Not her.” His shaking hands grasped his sword hilt, reversed the weapon, and offered it to Ridmark. “Take…take my sword. Give it…give it to King Hektor. Tell him that I am sorry. Tell him that Archaelon is a traitor.”

“If it is within my power, I will tell your king,” said Ridmark, “and I will tell him that you died fighting as a knight should.”

Tyromon sighed, slumped against the ground, and stopped breathing.

Ridmark gazed at the dead knight for a moment, and then reached down and closed his eyes. He knew nothing about Tyromon Amphilus, and nothing about this realm of the Nine Cities of Owyllain and the wars of which Sir Tyromon had spoken, but Ridmark suspected a brave and valiant knight had just passed.

-JM

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