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Reading, Science Fiction

The Prodigal Emperor, Snippet Three

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Here’s the third snippet from The Prodigal Emperor.  It seems that Alanis Giovanni is in a bit of trouble…

Faraday System

United Colonies

December 1, 2403

Alanis used a word that the daughter of the nobility and the sister to a head of state probably shouldn’t use in public. Unfortunately, it didn’t have any effect on the incoming fire from the crew served weapon that had her pinned down behind a rapidly eroding structural bulkhead.

“Alpha team, this is Sigma, what is your situation?” Sigma’s voice was dry and calm in her ear.

The rest of alpha team, as far as she knew, were already down, including her team leader, caught when the ambushers opened up from their concealed emplacement down the corridor. She had managed to return fire and move to cover, but she was the only one. The Cy-Tek Railgun down the corridor opened up with another burst to remind her of that point.

“Sigma, this is Alpha Five,” Alanis responded. “I’m pinned down and the remainder of Alpha Team is down.”

There was a moments pause and then Sigma spoke again, “Alpha Five, we need that target secured, the rest of our assault is depending on you.” The assault against the station would fail, she well knew, if she couldn’t take and hold the reactor room. Cutting power there would open the security doors and allow the rest of her company to secure the station.

She swore again as the remainder of her cover began to disintegrate. Nothing for it, she thought, as she vaulted out from cover and used her combat armor’s thrusters to augment the armor’s enhanced strength.

She – briefly – flew up along the ceiling of the corridor, the sharp arc of her trajectory momentarily throwing off the aim of her attackers as she managed to down one of them. She struck the ceiling with her back hard enough that it knocked the air out of her lungs and made her see spots despite her armor’s protection. She maintained her fire, though, and she saw the other gunner go down.

A moment later she bounced off the floor hard enough that she blacked out for a moment.

She pulled herself up, though, and ran a quick functions check of her armor and weapon. That done, she spoke up over the radio, “This is Alpha Five, continuing to target.”

***

 

The Prodigal Emperor is the third book of the Shadow Space Chronicles and is available for pre-order now.  It will be published on 19 September, 2015.

Baron Lucius Giovanni has done the impossible: not only has he held the alien Chxor at bay, he has taken the fight to them and liberated human worlds.  Yet humanity’s implacable foe has drawn a line in the sand.  They will hold Nova Roma at all costs… or see it a scorched ruin.
Lucius must aid Nova Roma’s Emperor and liberate his homeworld, but along the way he must also deal with old and new adversaries and with a conspiracy that seeks to usurp control of his fleet.
 
Nova Roma’s Emperor is going home, and Lucius will go beside him, for if he cannot overcome these obstacles, then humanity’s last hope will be overcome and the Chxor will enslave and exterminate the remaining free worlds.

 

Reading, Science Fiction

The Prodigal Emperor, Snippet Two

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Here’s another snippet from The Prodigal Emperor, available for pre-order now on Amazon.  This is a short one, from the perspective of “Stavros.”

Halcyon Colony, Garris Major System

Contested

November 23, 2403

“While it has been delightful to train together,” Captain Montago said, “I’m really getting tired of this shit. When do we get to the fighting and looting?”

“Soon enough, my friend, soon enough,” Mason said in the guise of Commodore Stavros Heraklion. It is rather disturbing how easily I’ve pulled off this role, Mason thought, and even worse in that I enjoy it a bit. He put his boots up on the table and looked around at the other commanders present. Each of them represented a ship or squadron of light ships. A couple of them, like Captain Mantago, were pirates who had signed on with Halcyon’s government for a safe base of operations and a cut in the overall profits. Others, like Captain Oronkwo and Captain Garret Penwaithe, were guild mercenaries, hired by Halcyon’s government from the Tannis system.

Though I have a low opinion of mercenaries, even guild mercs, Mason thought, I will say that Oronkwo seems pretty solid and that Frank Pierce picked a damned good officer in Garret Penwaithe… even if I did have to save his ass in that bar fight.

“President Monaghan has put special trust in my capabilities as a squadron leader… and Councilor Penwaithe as our direct representative from him has told me that our last training performance showed we’re ready,” Mason smirked. They had run a simulated exercise against some of Halcyon Defense Fleet. Most of them were decent enough, but they didn’t have enough leadership or experience. His squadron had won a very one-sided victory, another embarrassment for Admiral Moore. Councilor Penwaithe’s angry diatribe about building relationships and teamwork between privateers and military had been punctuated by her informing them that they were ready for active raiding.

And since embarrassing Admiral Moore makes both Mannetti and Collae happy with me, Mason thought, that was two birds with one stone, so to speak. His whole purpose here was to find out what the two rogue military commanders wanted in this tiny system. So far he had hints at some greater conspiracy and a notion that there was some recovered alien technology that the locals seemed to have tight control over and that the pair of them wanted it. Given the fact that both of them had grudges with Baron Giovanni and his United Colonies, it seemed prudent to thwart them.

While the notion of a greater conspiracy bothered him, Mason felt more concern about the alien technology. He had lived under Amalgamated Worlds and as a military officer he’d seen how the Agathan Fleet had developed from a handful of wreckage and the genius of a single man able to figure it all out. For that matter, the Kraken was of possible alien origin, and the real Captain Stavros had ran amok across a dozen star systems with the heavy cruiser until Mason had finally put an end to the man’s bloody swath of destruction.

The various commanders seemed eager at Mason’s declaration, so he shook off his thoughts and put on his best Stavros leer, “We’ll be leaving in a few days, our target is another Nova Corp facility. It should be a lot of fun, boys and girls. And trust me, we’ll be seeing a lot of profit off this one.”

The smiles on the pirate and privateer captains were all that Mason could have hoped for. The frowns and worry on the faces of the two mercenary Captains was also what Mason had hoped for. He had already worked things out with Commodore Frank Pierce, the commander of the War Dogs and Captain Penwaithe’s superior, but they had kept his subordinates in the dark. Captain Oronkwo had no ties to Mason, though, and Mason wanted him to be uneasy about all this. He was here to do a job and while he wouldn’t turn up his nose at profit, he was uneasy about the pirates he had to work with.

That was good, in Mason’s eyes. If both mercenaries were suspicious and on edge, then if Admiral Mannetti or Admiral Collae made their plays, then Captain Oronkwo and Captain Penwaithe might very well see it coming and take appropriate action. That might just swing things in Mason’s favor and prevent the two rogue Admirals from getting their way. And that is essential, Mason thought, or else all of this Stavros routine is just me playing dress-up for no good reason.

***

 

The Prodigal Emperor is the third book of the Shadow Space Chronicles and is available for pre-order now.  It will be published on 19 September, 2015.

Baron Lucius Giovanni has done the impossible: not only has he held the alien Chxor at bay, he has taken the fight to them and liberated human worlds.  Yet humanity’s implacable foe has drawn a line in the sand.  They will hold Nova Roma at all costs… or see it a scorched ruin.
Lucius must aid Nova Roma’s Emperor and liberate his homeworld, but along the way he must also deal with old and new adversaries and with a conspiracy that seeks to usurp control of his fleet.
 
Nova Roma’s Emperor is going home, and Lucius will go beside him, for if he cannot overcome these obstacles, then humanity’s last hope will be overcome and the Chxor will enslave and exterminate the remaining free worlds.

 

Reading, Science Fiction

The Prodigal Emperor, Snippet One

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Here’s the first snippet from The Prodigal Emperor:

Halcyon Colony, Garris Major System

Contested

November 20, 2403

Captain Garret Penwaithe swished the cheap liquor around his mouth for a moment, just long enough to numb his taste buds enough that he could swallow it without gagging.

“This is your idea of a date?” Ensign Abigail Gordon asked – shouted really – over the raucous music that rattled the rickety table at which they sat.

“This is not a date,” Garret growled, irritated as much with himself as with her for the statement. The War Dogs were a mercenary organization, so they were quite a bit more lax on things like fraternization than the military. Even so, he was not about to date the little sister of his ex-girlfriend. Especially since his ex-girlfriend was now married to his older brother. For one thing, he thought glumly, even if it wasn’t wrong in so many ways, Jessica would kill me.

“I mean,” Abigail shouted, “the food is terrible, the setting is worse, why even come here?” She wasn’t wrong. The bar was a dive, one which was overrun by mercenaries and privateers of the worst sort, brought here by the call of loot to be taken in the fight against the Colonial Republic. Few of them cared that Halycon Colony fought for freedom. Fewer still had any real loyalty to the government that had hired them. Many of them were the type of scum that followed Admiral Mannetti. Almost on cue, across the room, he saw the pirate, Stavros Heraklion, step through the door, followed by two women from his crew.

Great, he thought, when this goes down, I’ll need to remember to watch my back, especially with his grudge against the War Dogs. He wished that the Commodore had told him more about why he and Stavros hated each other so much.

Abigail cleared her throat impatiently and Garret sighed, “You mentioned nightmares, problems sleeping? This is the best way I know to blow off some steam and get your mind level.” Well, he thought, not the best way, but I’m not going to tell you to go get laid. He might give that advice to some of his other recruits, but he didn’t want Abigail to take that the wrong way.

“Hey,” a voice growled from behind him, “pretty girl, what you doing with this loser? Me and my friends are a lot more fun.”

Right on cue, Garret thought. He glanced over his shoulder to see one of the privateers he had seen at the bar earlier. “Get lost,” Garret said.

“Yeah, get lost,” Abigail echoed. She looked back at Garret, “What do you mean by blow off some steam?” Her upturned nose and freckles made her look absurdly young.

“Heya, girly, I don’t think you understand,” the privateer leaned over the table and even over his unwashed stink of body odor and sweat, Garret could smell the alcohol on his breath. “That wasn’t an invitation, it was a warning. This worm here is wearing War Dogs uniform. You set with him much longer and you might get grouped with him.”

“The War Dogs are great!” Abigail said, her voice far louder than she had realized. “How about you get lost, asshole!”

Garret heard stools scrape across the floor behind him as the privateer’s friends stood up. The privateer leaning over the table gave a snarl and pushed Abigial, hard, so that she and her chair fell back. She rolled to her feet and brought her hands up defensively. Good reflexes, Garret noted.

Garret slammed his elbow into the man’s midriff and as the privateer grunted and bent over, he grabbed him by his dreadlocks and smashed his face into the table top. The flimsy table collapsed, but the privateer went down with it. Garret wiped his hands on his pants, he hated dreadlocks.

Garret saw the man’s friends start forward out of the corner of his eye. He stood from his chair in a smooth, easy motion. His two meter tall frame rose over the other men and his black face split in a grin that showed them even, white teeth. He saw a couple of them step back in fear. Well, Garret thought cheerfully, I can be one imposing son of a bitch when I want.

Abigail came up beside him, “What’s going on?” she asked.

“A good way to work some of that out is a nice bar fight,” Garret said just loud enough for her to hear. He cocked his head as he recognized the purple uniforms of the privateers. “Say, you’re from the Damien Walters, eh? Should have known a bunch of cowards who’d stand by and watch their captain gunned down wouldn’t have the balls for a real fight.” Garret didn’t know the details, but he had heard that Stavros had gunned down their captain in a duel.

Imposing or not, they came at him. I guess that was a sore point, Garret thought as he caught the first man and used him as a shield against two of the others. After a moment he threw his man into another and watched them both go down.

“How is this supposed to help me?” Abigail said as she ducked under a wild swing and then smashed the bottle of cheap liquor across the man’s head. Someone cut the music and the shattering glass carried clearly through the bar. Garret winced as the pungent brew stung his nose and eyes in a way that only rotgut liquor could.

Garret caught another man’s swing and swung him into the other two as they struggled to their feet. The three stayed down and Garret grunted in disgust, “Eh, not much of a fight anyway…”

He heard tables and chairs shifting behind him, then and glanced over to see a lot more of the purple uniforms come out of the crowd. “Or… I could be wrong.”

Garret lost track of Abigail as a wave of purple uniforms washed over them. Garret was a brawler and though he’d some hand to hand training, that always seemed to go out the window in a fight like this. He caught up his chair and used it to fend two of his attackers away and kicked another man in the crotch as he came at him from the side.

Garret didn’t see the fourth man until the blow caught him from the other side. His attacker hit him again, this time in the side of the head and Garret stumbled to the ground, his ears ringing. He grunted as someone kicked him in the ribs.

He had time to shake his head and clear it a bit, just as he saw one of the privateers draw his pistol. A few meters away, he saw two others held Abigail by her arms. The one with the pistol gave a “He’s one of the War Dogs, you heard what Admiral Mannetti said, some of them dies in a bar fight and she might well cut that crew some extra shares.”

Garret felt his blood go cold. Suddenly this had escalated far beyond a friendly bar brawl. Stupid, he thought, I shouldn’t have forgotten about the politics down here and now not just me, but Abigail will be paying the price too.

“We can have a bit of fun with this one, first, eh?” One of Abigail’s captors said as he ran a hand through her blonde hair.

She spat in his face and almost pulled her arm free.

Garret saw his arm go back to strike her. Before he could finish the blow, another hand caught his. A tall man, dressed in skin-tight, red leather pants and a white button-down shirt, open to the waist stood behind the privateer. Garret instantly recognized Captain Stavros Heraklion although he had no idea why he had stopped the blow. The privateer tried to free his hand, but Stavros held him with little apparent effort, “Ah, I see that striking women is something that Captain Walters trained your crew on, eh, boys?”

The tone of threat in his voice was enough to penetrate the drunkest of the bar crowd. The handful of patrons that hadn’t backed away or cleared out made for the door. Behind Stavros, the two women from his crew stood, hands on weapons.

The privateer with a pistol glanced down at his weapon, as if to reassure himself. “Stavros,” he spat the name like a curse. “This is none of your business.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Stavros said. He gave a nod at Garret, “Now, while I can appreciate getting the upper hand in a fight like this, well, he’s been assigned to my squadron. As much as I… dislike the War Dogs, well, you put him down and it’ll take his gunboats out of the fight. You do that, and it’ll make me look bad.”

He released the privateer’s hand and stepped to the side. “And as for her… well, slapping around a woman is something I think it best to discourage, unless they’re into that sort of thing.” He leaned in towards Abigail, “I dunno, are you into that?”

Abigail flushed, “No – no,” she stuttered.

Stavros turned back to the leader of the privateers. “Well, then, see? There’s two good reasons for me to put a stop to it… plus I think any men who worked for a ball-less fuck-puppet like Damien Walters are cowards and cretins.”

The man with the pistol flushed red and Garret saw his hand tremble on his pistol. Yet the easy way that Stavros’s hands had come to rest on his own pair of pistols seemed to take the wind out of him. “Admiral Mannetti will hear about this.”

“Oh, dear,” Stavros said, his eyes wide. “Well, do give her Commodore Stavros’s regards, eh?”

The privateers began to clear out and after a moment, Garret managed to stand, though his head still spun a bit. He gave Stavros a slow nod, “Thanks.” The gratitude burned a bit, for there was no doubt that the man would brag about it at some point later. Commodore Pierce is going to be angry about this too, Garret thought.

“It is nothing!” Stavros said with an extravagant wave. “I just like to tweak those men in their ridiculous purple uniforms. Have they no sense of style? If I hadn’t already killed Damien Walters, I would shoot him again for crimes against fashion.”

Garret looked over Stavros’s tight red leather pants and the oiled chest hair that showed from his open shirt and just shook his head. Not worth saying anything, Garret thought, besides, he did just save my life. That his life had depended upon the flighty pirate at all almost made Garret want to throw up. Stavros was a womanizer, a philanderer, and a card cheat. He was also a pirate of the worst sort and whatever self-interest had made him step in was all that prevented Garret and Abigail from dying.

Garret wasn’t certain if it was possible for the night to get any worse.

Abigail looked over at Garret, her face a bit pale. “Well,” she said, “as first dates go, this was pretty terrible. You really better make it up to me.”

***

The Prodigal Emperor is available for Pre-Order on Amazon and will be published on September 19th, 2015.

Baron Lucius Giovanni has done the impossible: not only has he held the alien Chxor at bay, he has taken the fight to them and liberated human worlds.  Yet humanity’s implacable foe has drawn a line in the sand.  They will hold Nova Roma at all costs… or see it a scorched ruin.
Lucius must aid Nova Roma’s Emperor and liberate his homeworld, but along the way he must also deal with old and new adversaries and with a conspiracy that seeks to usurp control of his fleet.
 
Nova Roma’s Emperor is going home, and Lucius will go beside him, for if he cannot overcome these obstacles, then humanity’s last hope will be overcome and the Chxor will enslave and exterminate the remaining free worlds.

Reading, Science Fiction

The Prodigal Emperor Now Available for Pre-order!

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I’m excited to announce that The Prodigal Emperor, book III of The Shadow Space Chronicles will go live on September 19th, 2015.  This is the third book of the series and concludes the starting trilogy.  I’ll be posting some snippets and samples on the blog soon!

Baron Lucius Giovanni has done the impossible: not only has he held the alien Chxor at bay, he has taken the fight to them and liberated human worlds.  Yet humanity’s implacable foe has drawn a line in the sand.  They will hold Nova Roma at all costs… or see it a scorched ruin.
Lucius must aid Nova Roma’s Emperor and liberate his homeworld, but along the way he must also deal with old and new adversaries and with a conspiracy that seeks to usurp control of his fleet.
 
Nova Roma’s Emperor is going home, and Lucius will go beside him, for if he cannot overcome these obstacles, then humanity’s last hope will be overcome and the Chxor will enslave and exterminate the remaining free worlds.
The Prodigal Emperor is available on Amazon for pre-order here and will be published on September 19th, 2015.
Fantasy, Introductions and Greetings, Science Fiction

A Few Updates and a Review

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First up, Tom Knighton, an excellent author, has a great review of Echo of the High Kings up. He had some comments that I really appreciated and if you don’t read his stuff, I think he’s a fantastic blogger and author. You can read his review here.

My Liberty Con review went up on Monday. As I said, I met a lot of great people and I mentioned a few of the people I met there at the convention, I didn’t list them all, because I don’t think you want to see long lists of names, but it was funny to me because some of them are names I see every day on Amazon, on the list of “People who bought this book also bought…”

I also wanted to update everyone on my upcoming airing on American Ninja Warrior. The Military themed program will air on Monday, July 6th on NBC and Tuesday, July 7th on Esquire Network. I can’t say anything about what you’ll see, but I had a great time at the event. Be sure to tune in and watch!

Lastly, I wanted to say that I’ll be creating a new program, for those who want periodic updates but don’t regularly read my blog. I’ll have a mailing list which I’ll send out a newsletter once a month with free fiction, snippets, updates on my writing progress, and announcements when books are released. I’ll have a tab on the side and you can sign up now by using the “Contact Kal” page or messaging me on FB with your email.

Conventions, Fantasy, Science Fiction

Wait, It’s Already Over? Liberty Con 28 in Review

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20150627_171831Liberty Con has come and gone. It was my first Liberty Con and I had the unique experience of being both a panelist/author, a “First Timer”, and also shepherding around my one year old son. I don’t think I saw nearly as much of the event as I would have liked, but I managed to make it everywhere I was supposed to, more or less awake (the latter part being particularly difficult with a teething one year old).

For those who are fans of Baen authors, this is an amazing convention to attend. For those who just like military SF and Space Opera… well, this is still a great convention to attend. You pretty much can’t throw a rock there without hitting a Mil SF author in the side of the head. It is also a very social convention. Every area seemed to have old friends and new acquaintances chatting each other up. It’s a great place to meet new people, network (for authors, artists, and publishers), and generally have a fun time.

I met a few new and interesting people there and I think I learned a good deal too. I had the pleasure of meeting fellow Henchman Press author, Mark Wandrey. I had a great chat with Chris Kennedy about some of his techniques to stay in contact with readers and build a good network. Lastly, I think I made a great friend with Terry Maggert, who also looks to be a fantastic author and is a charming individual.  Links below for their works and websites.  Trust me, you should check them out.

Mark Wandrey just released the newest book in his ongoing Mil SF series: Etude to War.  Mark is an awesome guy and if you’re a fan of military SF, he’s writing a truly epic series.

Chris Kennedy writes a variety of books and his current best-seller, Janissaries, looks to be amazing.

Terry Maggert not only has amazing cover art but he has an awesome take on contemporary/post apocalyptic fantasy as well as epic fantasy.  I’m excited to have a copy of his book, Banshee, to read.

I met a lot of other great people at Liberty Con, though I’m afraid that child-imposed sleep deprivation has robbed me of many of their names.  It was a great time and I’m already planning on returning next year.  From what I understand, they’ve capped membership again and they’ve already sold over three hundred of their seven hundred and fifty total memberships, so if you want to be there next year, you should hurry up and get yours soon.

Fantasy, Reading

Wrath of the Usurper Snippet Two

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Here’s the next section of Wrath of the Usurper.  We get a glimpse of Kerrel Flamehair and where she is headed:

Commander Kerrel Flamehair

City of Longhaven, Duchy of Masov

15th of Pargan, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

Commander Kerrel Flamehair led Nightwhisper slowly down the ramp and onto the solid stone pier. Though the war horse did so with slow, calm steps, Kerrel didn’t miss the chuff of relief from her stallion as all four of his hooves stood again on dry, stable land.

She gave a snort and patted the stallion on one broad shoulder, “You’re getting worried in your old age, Nightwhisper? Maybe I should trade you out for a younger, braver horse that’s not afraid of a little water or too feeble to swim if the ship goes down?”

The stallion turned his head and bared his teeth at her and Kerrel laughed and patted his shoulder, “Okay, maybe you’re not that old and feeble.”

“He’s not the only one to be glad to be ashore,” Baran’s gruff voice spoke from behind her. “And begging our newly promoted Commander’s pardon, but if she’d be gracious enough to move her younger backside out of the way there’s others that would like to be getting on with the gratitude of being ashore.”

Kerrel rolled her eyes at that and led Nightwhisper out of the way while her second in command led his own horse down off the transport ship. Kerrel gave him a stern expression as he came down the ramp, followed by Jonal and his horse. “It’s a good thing I’m such a calm and patient sort, Baran. If I had any kind of temper then such language might draw penalties, especially were I given to letting my new promotion go to my head.” She tossed her head and her red hair swung over her shoulder. Normally she kept it tied back, but it had come loose during the unloading.

“Yes,” Jonal said gravely. “A very detached and calm individual our fearless leader, never one to hold a grudge or get emotional.”

Kerrel leveled a green-eyed gaze on the shorter, red-haired man, “You should be glad for that temper of mine, cousin, else you might still be spending your days a prisoner to the Vendakar… or worse!”

Baran grunted, “She’s got a point, lad.”

“She might,” Jonal admitted after a moment.

“Captain, uh, that is, Commander,” a voice spoke from nearby. Kerrel recognized one of the new recruits by his accent, the Duchy of Asador burr still harsh and strong and not yet worn down from dealing with men of the other Duchies. “Sergeant Lamar asked me to take care of your horses, said that you probably need to get to see him about some of the logistics.”

Kerrel grimaced. She had enjoyed a bit of respite from Lamar while operating under Lord Hector’s Northern Army. They had an entire logistics company to deal with paperwork and the actual movement of supplies and equipment. Sergeant Lamar knew his job and knew it well… but he had a tendency to take an unholy joy in drowning her and Baran in paperwork, all of it vital, but still dreary.

“I guess I should let her Commander-ship get to her duties then,” Baran said gravely.

“Begging your respects, sir,” the new trooper said, “but Sergeant Lamar specifically said that he wanted you and young master Jonal to come as well.”

Kerrel laughed at Baran’s grimace. The old soldier hated such meetings. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t understand their importance. “Very well,” Kerrel said, laughter still light on her voice, “we will all meet with him, where has he set up?”

“He’s set up a temporary headquarters for you, Commander, at the Black Oar Inn,” the younger man said. “He said he’s warm food since you’ll have had nothing but ship food over the past few days.”

“True enough,” Baran grunted. “And old grumble-belly always finds the best food in town.”

“Thank you, trooper…” Kerrel paused and cocked her head, “are you one of Stanis’s boys?”

The younger man’s eyes went wide with surprise, “Yes, milady, uh, that is Commander. I’m Jurgan, his second son.”

“Glad to see you here, Jurgan, and mind the dark one. Nightwhisper has a wicked temper and likes to bite,” Kerrel said. She heard her horse chuff in disappointment behind her, but she ignored that. Her regular troops knew the horse’s ways, but someone like Jurgan would need the warning. She passed over the reigns and waved for Baran and Jonal to join her. A glance around the docks showed that the bustling port had taken no more notice of them. The traffic of mercenaries into the Duchy of Masov, called by the Usurper Duke’s offers of coin had become common here. Southern mercenaries took the bridge across the Ryft at the Ryftguard, but most mercenaries from Boir and Asador came in through the ports, and Longshaven was the largest port in the Duchy of Masov.

“You know the way?” Baran asked.

“I do,” Jonal said quickly. He flushed as Kerrel raised an eyebrow at him. “They, uh, have the best vintages in town.”

“Do tell,” Kerrel said.

He shrugged self-consciously, “They don’t serve any Vendakar wines, trust me.”

“Oh, I’ll trust you on that, all right,” Baran grunted. The Vendakar who had kidnapped Jonal and then framed him for the assassination attempt against Duke Hector had used drugged Vendakar wine, Kerrel remembered. That they had used his own enjoyment of fine food and drink against him had embarrassed him. That they had killed off the patrol he was supposed to ride with and then nearly killed Kerrel herself in the assassination attempt clearly still left him angry.

Not that anything of Vendakar make was in high demand anywhere in the Duchy of Masov, just now. When the full measure of their treachery had come to light, they had switched sides mid battle, it had taken five companies of heavy cavalry, led by Kerrel herself to bring back the tide of victory. If their treachery had succeeded, they and the Armen they had sided with would have wiped out the Usurper Duke’s Northern Army. The Armen raiders that Duke Hector fought would have come south and raided the rest of the Duchy and presumably the traitorous Vendakar mercenaries would have taken their own measure of loot and slaves.

As unpopular as the Usurper Duke might be, particularly in the south, no one had any complaints about his victory. Indeed, when word had gone out that it was open season on Vendakar merchants and mercenaries tied to the Houses who had plotted that betrayal, the popular reaction had been extremely violent. Since the Vendakar slavers had something of a reputation and there wasn’t a single Vendakar merchant who didn’t deal in slaves on the side… well, there were a lot of dead Vendakar within a few weeks of Duke Hector’s proclamation.

And anyone who had dealings with them is keeping low, she thought, even going as far as to destroy any of their goods they have rather than try to sell them. Which would probably lead to some economic issues as the trade dried up, she knew. The only people who did more trade than the Vendakar were the people of Boir, but relations with the Grand Duchy of Boir were tense. That tends to happen when you take power by killing off your uncle and his entire family, Kerrel thought sourly. She had seen much of Hector’s ruthlessness, but it still shocked her to think of just how willing he was to kill if he saw it as the best course of action. She knew the murder of his relatives weighed upon him, but he seemed to view it as his only course of action. Just as he views sending me south to make peace as his only option, she thought.

“I still don’t know why the hole company is headed south,” Baran grumbled. “Be a right pain to move us all, especially with all the new people, and still get them trained and properly integrated. Waste of good troops, too.”

Jonal looked over his shoulder, “I don’t expect much fighting to be had up north, not until the raiders return next spring. I mean, we destroyed the entire Armen army there on the Lonely Isle, there shouldn’t be anyone else to fight, right?”

“Might seem that way,” Kerrel said softly, “but that’s only looking at our battle in isolation.”

Baran grunted and spat to the side, “Damned Armen raided the Grand Duchy of Boir, sacked Port Riss, besieged Boirton, and, if the rumors are true, killed their Grand Duke and half their nobility. The raiders who went south will need to return home and the Lonely Isle has long been their staging area. They’ll be coming through by the thousands.”

Kerrel nodded, “Plus there were enough surviving Armen to defend their raid camps. Lord Hector will have to attack each of them, one by one, in order to burn them out. Meanwhile, the raiders coming home will be rich with loot and slaves and eager to protect it all and prove what great warriors they are.”

“Lots of skirmishing and fighting,” Baran nodded. “Lots of bastards need killing.”

Jonal led the way in silence for a bit. His voice was thoughtful when he spoke, “So then, why are we headed south? Lord Hector can’t have unlimited pocketbooks, he’s already leveraging heavy taxes on Masov, and he’s paying for our company to grow… shouldn’t he need us up North?”

Kerrel nodded in approval, though more for the thought he put into it and the economic implications he saw than in agreement of his final outcome. “Those taxes of his… and the way he took power, those caused him some issues in the South.” She sighed. Really, talking this over in the street was hardly the ideal location. While most people in Longhaven had their heads on business rather than listening in, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that there were spies abroad. She was certain there would be some who would pay to hear what Lord Hector’s recently promoted Commander of Cavalry and Ducal Investigator had to say about it all…and what she did have to say could be damaging.

Yet at the same time, what she had to say was no more than what most people already knew. “The southern nobility are angry over his treatment of them, they don’t like how he’s appointed men like Covle Darkbit to watch them.” Not that I blame them for that, she thought darkly, Darkbit is a bastard of the worst sort, “They also don’t like how Hector has taken away a lot of their autonomy.”

“Commoners are worse, though,” Baran grunted.

“Yes,” Kerrel nodded. “He’s hitting them the hardest with his new taxes, then setting men like Darkbit and Grel to collect those taxes. The taxes fund his campaign against the Armen raiders, but they are turning the general population against Hector in the process.”

Jonal pondered that and Kerrel hoped he would see the lesson and learn from it. The single-minded determination of Duke Hector the Usurper was admirable, in some ways. He certainly had spared his lands from the savage violence that had descended upon Boir, but he had brought a different kind of savagery to Masov, one where the people no longer trusted in their protectors, one where families on the ragged edge had to start thinking about survival come the long winter ahead. And if anyone understands how brutal winter can be, it’s the Duchy of Masov, she thought. The coastal Duchy often had the heaviest snowfall of all the Five Duchies during the long months of winter, with the southern highlands receiving forty or more feet of snow. Some places, she had heard, had up to eight months of snow-fall.

They came at last to the Black Oar Inn. The cheery sound of laughter and the warm glow of light from its windows “So what can we do?” Jonal asked, his voice uncertain.

“What we must, to keep the peace,” Kerrel said softly. She thought, suddenly of Lord Hector’s private discussion with her, before her departure. He asked me to be his assassin, she thought, knowing full well what it would cost me. She wasn’t sure she could do that, but she knew full well the stakes. Civil war loomed, with the dead Duke’s daughter backed by the southern nobility and the commoners and Hector backed by the northern merchants and tradesmen. That kind of war would leave the Duchy of Masov shattered, much like her own home of Asador. Could she kill an innocent woman to preven that? Even if I do kill Hector’s cousin Katarina, Kerrel wondered, would it do any good?

***

Wrath of the Usurper will be available on 30 May 2015

Fantasy, Reading

Wrath of the Usurper Snippet One

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Here’s the first snippet from Wrath of the Usurper, coming on 30 May!

Tarjak Rusk

Seige of Boirton

15th of Pargan, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

Tarjak pushed the slave girl to the side and snarled, “Food, drink, now!”

As the young woman crawled away, Tarjak smiled. She was a soft, southern thing, one of their nobles that his men had captured or so she had claimed. He, of course, had claimed her and it had not taken long to break her to his will. It had given him a unique feeling of power to take a proud and arrogant woman and make her into an abject slave. It was something he rather enjoyed.

“Tarjak,” a soft voice spoke nearby, “Hard at work, I see.”

Tarjak whipped to his feet with the speed and grace which had made him his clan’s chieftain. His sword in hand, he confronted the shadowy figure who stood at the end of his fur bedrolls. His blade lowered, though, as he recognized the hooded figure who clutched at a staff. “Oh,” Tarjak grunted, “It’s you… my Lord.” It grated on him to say the last, but he knew better than to deny the wizard his due. Tarjak knew well that he owed much of his own position and power to the other man.

Xavien gave Tarjak a smile, “If you are busy, I could always come back.” The softness of his voice didn’t fool Tarjak. It was as much a rebuke as if he had slapped Tarjak in the face.

Tarjak knelt, “My apologies, I am fully at your command, my Lord.” He felt sweat break out on his forehead and his back tingled in anticipation of pain. Xavien’s favorite tools were fear and pain, Tarjak knew. It was part of why he was so effective at gaining the loyalty of his fellow Semat Armen… those were some of the only techniques they respected.

“Good,” Xavien’s dark eyes went to the slave girl, “I don’t mind that you find ways to pass the time here in the south… but the time has come to end this siege, before it costs you too much.”

“What?” Tarjak asked. “But, we’ve taken so much loot, so many slaves, and many stockpiles of food. Why withdraw now?” Even as he said it, he realized his mistake.

Green energy lanced out and Tarjak dropped to the ground, his teeth clenched on a scream. As an Armen warrior, he knew pain, both how to give it and how to take it. As the chieftain of his clan, he knew that his survival required he not show any sign of weakness… and shrieking like a girl as the green energy seared his flesh was not something that would make him appear strong.

“Tarjak…” Xavien shook his head and ceased his torment. “My main complaint about your people is how you don’t have any tact… I fear I will have to break you to get you to show courtesy… and then you would be of no more use than the girl there.” Xavien chuckled a bit, “Though I’ll admit, I’d find you more attractive than her. At least you’ve some muscle on you.”

Tarjak tasted blood from where his teeth had torn the inside of his lips. He also smelled scorched hair and had little doubt that his skin would show the effects of Xavien’s attack in broad scorches and pain that would last for weeks. He rose to his knees again, though, and waited silently, either for more punishment or for his master to speak. To do otherwise would just bring worse.

“However, since you clearly didn’t understand me and no doubt you’ll have to argue down your tribesmen, I’ll tell you why.” Xavien leaned on his staff and Tarken could see that the wizard actually looked tired. Which means something wore him down, Tarjak realized with shock. Over the years that he had known Xavien, Tarjak had seen at least a dozen shamans challenge the wizard only to die, often in painful or embarrassing fashions. None of them, to include the most powerful shamans of the Semat, had been able to give him pause. If something had worn him, tired him… it must be a terrible foe indeed. Tarjak wasn’t quite certain whether to hope the foe had defeated his master or been defeated. While my fate is tied to his… I hate him enough to hope for his death, he thought, and I would go to the spirits a happy man to know he had been brought low.

“The Duchy of Boir has begun to re-consolidate,” Xavien said. “Though no one force is strong enough to face your entire army, as yet, it is only a matter of time. Also, your blow here has embarrassed them and shamed their military. Better for you to withdraw before they have some opportunity to gain even a minor victory against your men to give them hope.” Xavien paused and Tarjak nodded slightly to show that he understood. “Then, too, I’ve another task for my Noric allies and a very important task for some of your warriors when you reach the Lonely Isle… that is Nasar Ind as your people call it.”

“War with Hall Prakka?” Tarjak asked eagerly. While fighting the soldiers of Boir was enjoyable enough, the mercenaries and soldiers of Hall Prakka were more likely to fight in close combat and less reliant upon magic and deception. It felt more pure, somehow, to engage in that manner of war. Plus, he liked the mixed blooded women of Nasar Ind. They had spine and stubbornness. He had once captured a powerful priestess there… and he still remembered with pleasure how long it had taken his shamans to break her… and how he had used her body in that time.

“That is coming, yes. For now, I just want some of your more eager and disposable warriors,” Xavien said. “Men who will throw themselves at the enemy because they think themselves invincible,

Tarjak smiled, “You want fodder.” He thought of the young, eager warriors who always caused him problems and were most likely to challenge his authority. “I can give you those, my Lord.”

“Good,” Xavien said. “They will act as your rear guard… and I suspect they’ll take the highest of your casualties. I want you to take your finest warriors with you in the first movements. Leave the Norics to me… and make certain that your most reckless and bloodthirsty warriors are at the back.”

Tarjak nodded, even as he thought of how that would affect his people. They had always sent the most reckless warriors into combat first, to thin their numbers and to give the survivors combat experience. It also let more experienced warriors survive to face the enemy feeling well-rested and ready. This would be no different, save that his best and most loyal tribes would be the first to leave. They would be able to take most of the supplies from the raid camps at Nasar Ind. The other tribes, when they reached there, would have to forage or raid for supplies to make the final voyage to their homeland in the north. Also, as summer departed, the northern seas would grow more and more dangerous. Whatever forces trailed the furthest back would not only lose more warriors to the enemy… they’d lose many men to the seas.

Probably lose the iron ships, too, he thought darkly. He had been forced to leave those ships in the hands of the tribes who had seized them… for now. He had one as well, but the southerners had recaptured it. It embarrassed him that his sloop, once the largest among the Semat Armen was now tiny in comparison to the three iron ships that some of the other chieftains held. Still, they had taken terrible casualties in capturing those ships. Still, if those tribes lost the iron ships on the rough seas, at least the southerners wouldn’t have them. “I’ll see to it all, my Lord.”

Xavien gave him a final nod, “Good.” The wizard turned away, headed for the tent door. Over his shoulder, he spoke, his voice soft, “Soon the time will come when your people will claim these lands.”

Tarjak nodded, though in reality he didn’t want his tribe to live in these soft lands. The had already become sluggish and soft in the siege. He looked over as the slave girl brought him a tray with a glass of southern wine and slices of meat. Tarjak gave her a friendly smile as he took the tray. He reached out a hand and brought her to her feet.

Tarjak could feel the rapid, nervous beats of her heart, as fear worked through her veins. Tarjak’s smile turned ugly as he brought his sword up, under her ribs. The woman let out a gurgling shriek and Tarjak felt hot blood gush over his arms. He smiled as she sagged, a look of shock and terror on her face. “Why…” she gasped.

“You were a good slave,” Tarjak said. “But you saw too much. Besides, you are to soft to bear my seed… and I know you are pregnant and I’ll not see my blood diluted with the weaklings of the south.” He wiped his blade on part of her ruined silks and let her fall to the floor. He watched as she crawled away, leaving a vast trail of blood across the furs and carpets of his tent. Tarjak might enjoy the softness of the south, but he did not need it. Harshness and hardness had shaped him and his people… at the command of Hall Armath, the Dark Warrior.

Whatever the wizard thought, they would follow the Dark Warrior’s commands. They would be his people: savage, vicious, and harder than the stone of the mountains.

***

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

Fantasy, Reading

Wrath of the Usurper Coming Soon!

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Wrath of the Usurper, Book II of the Eoriel Saga, will be coming at the end of the month to Amazon and in July to Audible.com and Itunes as an audiobook.

Civilization is dying.

The lands of the Five Duchies are in chaos. They are leaderless and each land stands alone. Besieged by barbarians, savages, fell beasts, and infighting, few doubt that the end times are upon them.

Yet all is not lost. In the East, Lady Katarina Emberhill has begun an uprising against the Usurper and those who follow her carry relics from the time of the High Kings. In Boir, Lord Admiral Christoffer Tarken forges alliances and defend his lands. And in the Eastwood, powers that have been silent for eons are stirring and turning their eyes to the outside world.

But the key is the Usurper Duke, a man drawn to savagery and battle. His victories in his personal war against the Armen have swelled the ranks of his army. Who will draw the wrath of the Usurper: will he turn it against his own rebellious people or levy his forces against the threats to all civilized men?

Check back here soon for samples/snippets, cover art and more!

Fantasy, Reading

Review: David Weber’s Sword of the South

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David Weber's The Sword of the South.
David Weber’s The Sword of the South.

David Weber’s new Epic Fantasy novel, Sword of the South, is up on Baen’s websubscriptions and I picked it up last week for some ‘light’ reading.  I thought that I’d do a review of it, to give my impressions.  I’ll preface this by saying that I read an eARC of this book.  It’s not the complete version and it still has some editing to be done.   Therefore I’m not going to nitpick grammar and such.

I’ve been a long time fan of David Weber’s fantasy series, starting with Oath of Swords and then leading into The War God’s Own, Windrider’s Oath, and culminating in War Maid’s Choice.    If you haven’t read the series, you should.  It’s excellent.  The stories are, much like most of Weber’s, rich and interesting with detail, well orchestrated, and while the good guys don’t always get a happy ending, the bad guys generally come to bad ends.

The Sword of the South is, as far as I am aware, the start of his main epic.  The other four books were designed to be the opening act, as it were, much like Tolkien’s The Hobbit was to Lord of the Rings.  The clash between the powers of Light and Darkness is begun.  From the very first pages, you get the feeling that the stakes are higher and that the costs may be far higher than the previous books.  Since the previous books saw the deaths of beloved characters, this generally means that no one is safe.  The Sword of the South is also written so that a new reader, someone unfamiliar with the series, can start here without issue, while still rewarding long-time readers with inside jokes and references to events in humorous fashion.

The premise of the book is simple enough, retrieve a powerful weapon from an evil sorceress and defeat her minions along the way.  In execution, there are a number of complications, with master assassins, arch-wizards, demons, and dragons all getting involved.  This book gives a much broader picture of the world in some ways, filling out some of the details that the reader might have been interested in from the other books.  In some ways, though, this book feels… incomplete.  Almost as if this were a sideshow in the larger overall events that David Weber has scripted to come later.  The mission is, without a doubt, essential, in more ways than one.  Indeed, in many ways the journey seems as important as the mission, but while I came away eager to read the next installment, I also came away at the end with a feeling that a little too much remained unresolved.

Characterization is excellent.  Several characters from the other books are here, to lesser or greater extent.  Some time has passed (I won’t say how much, because that’s part of the plot, actually), and it is good to see how characters have grown or matured from their experiences.  As a reader, I found it wonderful to see the payoff of how characters had progressed and grown (and also to see some guesses confirmed).  The new characters held their weight, none of them overshadowed by the stories and personalities of the others.  David Weber did an excellent job of making even some of the villain’s motives and motivations understandable… even while showing that they had gone too far.

Later on in the book, however, I did have a few issues with changes of perspective.  At times the perspective in a scene will change from one character to another from one paragraph to the next and then back.  This left me with a sense of whiplash, trying to figure out who was thinking what.  This might be something they’ll edit before the final release, but in one particular case it was not only hard to follow, but left me feeling as if I had missed something.  Very slight spoiler: In some scenes there is a character who is under another guise.  The other characters knew this character by a different name, but in the changes of perspective it would go from the disguised character’s actual name and thoughts, to another character who didn’t know the character’s true identity, and back, sometimes multiple times in a scene.

In all, I enjoyed the book and I’m eager to read the next.  It was excellent to get to see some of the promises made in the earlier books finally fulfilled and I can’t wait to see how the further books in the series progress.  If you haven’t read any of David Weber’s fantasy series, you should get started!

Here’s the publisher summary:

A#1 in a NEW EPIC FANTASY SERIES by 28-times New York Times and international best seller David Weber, set within his Bahzell Bahnakson/War God universe. A swordsman who has been robbed of his past must confront an evil wizard with a world at stake.

Know thyself. Its always good to know who you are, but sometimes thats a little difficult.

Kenhodan has no last name, because he has no past . . . or not one he remembers, anyway. What he does have are a lot of scars and a lot of skills some exhilarating and some terrifying and a purpose. Now if he only knew where he’d gotten them and what that purpose was . . . .

Wencit of Rūm, the most powerful wizard in the world, knows the answers to Kenhodan’s questions, but he can’t or won’t share them with him. Except to inform him that he’s a critical part of Wencit’s millennium-long battle to protect Norfressa from conquest by dark sorcery.

Bahzell Bahnakson, champion of Tomank, doesn’t know those answers and the War God isn’t sharing them with him. Except to inform Bahzell that the final confrontation with the Dark Lords of fallen Kontovar is about to begin, and that somehow Kenhodan is one of the keys to its final outcome.

Wulfra of Torfo doesn’t know those answers, either, but she does know Wencit of Rūm is her implacable foe and that somehow Kenhodan is one of the weapons he intends to use against her . . . assuming she can’t kill both of them first.

But in the far northern port city of Belhadan, an eleven-year-old girl with a heart of harp music knows the answers to all of Kenhodan’s questions. . . and dares not share them with anyone, even the ancient wild wizard who loves her more dearly than life itself.

It’s not easy to face the future when you can’t even remember your own past, but if saving an entire world from evil sorcerers, demons, devils, and dark gods was easy, anyone could do it.

For those of you wanting to find the other books in the series or the book itself I’ve listed them in order with links:

Oath of Swords

The War God’s Own

Wind Rider’s Oath

War Maid’s Choice

The Sword of the South

The Sword of the South eArc