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Fantasy Books by David Burrows
David's Author Website
Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: David Burrows
ISBN-10: 1480169102
Type: Fiction
Pages: 228
Copyright: Jan 3 2012
ISBN-13: 9781480169104
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
My books are traditional fantasy in the vein of Tolkien or Hobb. If you are bored with over long fantasy series then Prophecy of the Kings could be a refreshing break.
Drachar is a ruthless and ambitious sorcerer who will stop at nothing to wreak revenge against those who betrayed him. From a lowly although arrogant Eldric lord to commander of the most deadly army the land has ever seen, he pitches relentless hordes of powerful soul devouring demons against his own people, the Eldric.
Fierce battle is to commence and all in its path must fight or risk their soul being sent screaming from their twitching corpses. Madness tears at Drachar, a constant reminder of what should happen if he fails in his bloody pact; delivering one hundred thousand souls to the demons in exchange for the greatest of power. The Eldric must learn to summon demons of their own to stand any chance against Drachar’s deadly arsenal of krell, demons and grakyn.
Magic and swords clash together in a war of such catastrophic proportions that the world will be forever stricken. Join Drachar the outcast as he rises to omnipotence. The die are cast and events are set in motion that look set to destroy the world.
The race is on for war threatens; a war like no other for sorcerer will battle sorcerer and demon set against demon.
Excerpt
Turrell hugged the wall, peering cautiously around the corner.
“Can you see him?” Sharyl asked.
“Shhhh!” Turrell cautioned. He stepped back from the corner, looking pensive.
Sharyl felt a thrill of fear. “Well?” she prompted.
“He’s stopped just around the corner. I think he saw me.” At any other time, Turrell’s expression would have made her laugh. He looked so afraid. She felt afraid too — afraid, but also more alive somehow. It was as though her fear was feeding her strength.
Someone stepped into the street. He was coming around the same corner Turrell had peered around moments before. He was a tall man. Sharyl had to squint against the glare of the sun before she could see him clearly. It was the man they were following. Gastrin, a soldier dressed in chain mail, was wearing a helmet and carrying a long sword strapped to his side.
“Why are you following me?” Gastrin demanded, glancing from one to the other. His gaze was firm. He looked unafraid, but then again why should he fear them? Two civilians, one a small woman and the other an unarmed man. Sharyl felt a growing sense of excitement.
“Because you stole from us!” she spat.
“You calling me a thief?” the soldier said, a hand going to the hilt of his sword. “I know you. You are from his special school. Go back before you get into trouble!”
Sharyl looked to Turrell for support but he was looking away, too afraid to meet the soldier’s gaze. Sharyl was angry and she wasn’t going to let this rest. A thud of wood on stone from above sounded as someone opened the shutter. It was flung wider by a sudden gust. She saw a face peering down on them, wondering, no doubt, what the noise was all about.
Sharyl felt alive. She giggled. “We’re not leaving until you give us the gold, and yes, I am calling you a thief!” Sharyl shouted, moving away from Turrell.
“Sharyl… ” Turrell started, “it’s not worth it. Let’s go back.” He held his arm out to her as though imploring her to come with him.
“I’m not leaving without the gold!” she insisted. ”This pretty boy soldier had better give it back.”
“Listen to the little man,” the soldier advised, his manner confident as he shrugged his head towards Turrell. “Go back to the school before I get annoyed.” He turned away. To be dismissed so lightly made Sharyl doubly angry. At that moment she hated this conceited man with a passion.
Before she could do anything Turrell finally overcame his cowardice. “Little man!” he blared. He shoved the soldier in the back, catching him off balance. Gastrin took a couple of long strides before bringing himself to a halt. “I am not a little man and you should show some respect, Gastrin. Thief! I saw how you looked when Drachar gave the gold to me. I saw your eyes and they betrayed you,” Turrell shouted.
Gastrin spun around, whipping out his sword, his eyes blazing furiously. Others were coming to the windows of the buildings overlooking the narrow street to see what the commotion was about. Gastrin looked up and seeing the watching faces, he lowered his blade, clearly aware that there were witnesses watching.
“Go back to school,” he sneered, “and I will pretend this didn’t happen.” He backed up several paces, sheathing his sword.
“We want our gold!” Sharyl shouted, following him.
“Sharyl, watch out!” Terrell warned, reaching out to grab her arm. She shrugged out of reach and stormed towards Gastrin who backed farther away, glancing up at the watchers. Turning the corner, he started walking away from the pair.
Sharyl ran after him, stooped and picked up a stone, which she hurled with all her strength. It hit Gastrin in the back. Once again, he spun around to confront them, drawing his sword more slowly this time.
“I am warning you two,” he said through gritted teeth, pointing the sword at them and jabbing it in their direction. His face was crimson with fury.
“Sharyl,” Turrell said. Sharyl glanced back at him, seeing in his look that he wanted to leave.
“I want our gold,” she insisted.
“Sharyl. No!” Turrell cried out as she started to trace a rune in the air. Turrell copied her. Sharyl guessed that he was casting a spell of protection, a wise precaution.
Gastrin laughed at them, fingers painting in the air. He turned to leave and that infuriated Sharyl all the more. With a final flourish, she finished her casting and roared aloud, “Gastrin!”
The other man glanced over his shoulder in time to see a green glow emanating from a tear in the fabric between the worlds. His face darkened as a creature bounded forth. He spun around, his sword drawn. His eyes were wide with fear as he sought an escape.
An imp hovered in the air between Sharyl and Gastrin. It didn’t look too menacing. It was no bigger than a fox, but the smell and green glow were telltale signs of what it was. A demon.
“Kill him,” Sharyl commanded, pointing at Gastrin who raised his sword, clearly not wanting to turn his back on the imp.
The imp was fast. It threw itself at Gastrin who thrust his sword outwards. His blow was ill timed and clearly made in a panic. The imp simply dodged the weapon and was on him in an instant. Its claws raked his throat. Then it was past him, landing, cat-like, on its talons.
Gastrin’s hand clutched his throat. Blood gushed through his fingers. Desperately, he tried to staunch the flow, his eyes bulging in their sockets. He tried to say something, but blood gurgled from his lips. He fell to his knees, a look of astonishment on his face. The imp was not yet finished. Gastrin knew it was behind him and he tried desperately to turn to face it. The creature leapt on his back, its claws tearing his mail as though it was nothing more than spider’s silk.
Gastrin’s head snapped back. A wail escaped his lips as the imp sought his soul. With a cry of victory, the imp snatched its talon from within Gastrin’s back. Sharyl cast a rune, sending it back to hell, a smile on her lips as she looked upon Gastrin’s corpse. A great hole had been ripped in his back.
“Sharyl, what have you done?” Turrell said. He looked at her in awe, his mouth agape.
“Get the gold,” Sharyl instructed, waving a hand dismissively.
Turrell smiled. “You were brilliant, summoning an imp so quickly.”
“Just get the gold,” she said, pointing at the body. She glanced up at the windows. Several slammed shut as the occupants withdrew, unwilling to get involved after witnessing the horror and violence just perpetrated. A few looked on still, their faces masked in terror.
When Turrell turned the body over, even Sharyl was taken aback. Gastrin’s face was frozen in a silent scream, a look of complete terror permanently etched on his face. Sharyl had never liked him, even though she had only met him a couple of weeks earlier. He was a typical soldier, thinking he was better than anyone else just because he had a sword.
She looked up, unafraid of anyone seeing her. She had power now and no one could touch her. Not ever again.
“I have it,” Turrell announced, excitedly, crouching over the body and staring at the nugget. He held it up for her to see. “I have it,” he repeated.
“Come on! We’d better get back,” Sharyl said. She felt incredible, vibrant. She couldn’t stop smiling.
“What will people do?” Turrell fretted. “We … you killed him.”
“Do? What can they do?” Sharyl said, smiling. “We are invincible.”
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