Valerie Douglas Books
Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: Smashwords
Pages: 58
ISBN-13: 9781458047601
For Delae, a landholder on the edge of the Kingdoms, a frantic knock at the door on a stormy winter's night brings more than a cry for help.
After centuries of war Elves have little contact with the men, but Dorovan can't bring himself to ride past those so obviously in need. One small act, with enormous consequences.
For Delae, a lonely landholder on the edge of the Kingdoms, a frantic knock at the door on a stormy winter's night brings more than a cry for help.
After centuries of war Elves have little contact with the race of men, but Dorovan can't bring himself to ride past those so obviously in need. Especially the small woman so determined to right the overturned wagon.
One small act, with enormous consequences. Not Magic Enough is a tale of love and honor, duty and determination, that sets in motion a chain of events that will change the Kingdoms forever.
Excerpt
That was how Dorovan first saw her, kneeling in the mud by the overturned wagon. To his Elven-sight her brilliant hair was a bright splash of red against the light dusting of snow on the ground as she bent her head. Brightness sparkled on her cheeks as she touched the frightened, tangled horse gently.
Tears.
Nearby three men secured draft horses to the upraised side of the wagon while a group of men, women and a young boy stood nearby beneath the dubious shelter of the trees.
It wasn’t his business, it was a thing of men. He knew he should pass by, unseen in the darkness, his Elven-sight rendering everything to him as clear as day, unlike that of the men and women here.
He was cold as well, chilled to the bone, tired, heartsick and far from home.
It had been a long journey from Lothliann in the north, where he had gone to render aid against the Borderlands creatures, through the Rift and the lands Men called Raven’s Nest. They’d lost one of their Hunters to the goblins and his people grieved the loss along with Melis’s soul-bond.
As he himself did, his heart heavy. Even without a soul-bond of his own, through the empathy his people shared he knew a fraction of what it was to suffer such a loss. His heart ached for Melis. She would go on to the Summerlands soon, he knew. And then his people would lose not one, but two.
To his vision it was clear the small party was unlikely to right the heavy wagon, not with what they had to work with, but it was also quite clear they would try. There was nothing else for it.
It was also clear what the woman on the ground was about to do, however much she clearly dreaded it and how necessary it was… If he didn’t intervene. With the storm it was also likely they would all freeze and die out here if they didn’t succeed.
Dorovan had had enough of death.
|
