Graham Tomb of Sharakir

1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-0-9956913-0-8
Verlag: Ecanus Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 129 Seiten

After their success in recapturing the stolen Cloak of Etherical Light, the Silent Blade return to Mount Oragil for a well earned rest, but after a few months of respite they soon become bored, and long for adventure. And they do not have long to wait. When a fishing boat discovers two unconscious men drifting far out to sea in an open sailing boat they rush to save them. The Captain discovers one of the men is carrying something he recognises from a description his brother once gave him. Realising the importance of his find the Captain returns to port and promptly has his brother take the find to Mount Oragil. The finding of this small, bejewelled pendant will trigger a search for the fabled, long lost Tomb of Sharakir. But as the Silent Blade struggle to return the pendant to its original home, a dark and ancient prophesy begins to unravel. Old wounds will be re-opened; ancient secrets will be revealed, and the hearts of those involved may never be the same. This time the forces of evil mean business!

Autoren/Hrsg.

Graham, David

Leseproben

THE TOMB OF SHARAKIR
CHAPTER ONE
BY THE GODS

It was springtime; a time when the days slowly become longer and warmer, and when new life begins to nudge the dreariness of winter to one side. Flowers start to push their way through the soil, trees and bushes display new buds, birds once again sing their songs, and animals give birth to their young. The world was finally coming back to life, after many months of frozen immobility.

For the fishermen of Garramor City, this was a time to check and repair their nets, and make sure their boats were in good seaworthy condition. Gone were the winter gales and storms that held the fishing fleet at anchor in Garramor bay. Now, the tough fishermen could once again take to the high seas in relative safety, and make their living for another season.

For the dozens of fishing families it was an emotional time as they watched the fleet set sail once again. Most of the large fishing vessels would not be seen again for almost two weeks, as they headed for the deep water fishing grounds. There they would drag their nets in search of the biggest shoals of the white fish that made Garramor’s fishing fleet so famous. Only the largest fishing boats, crewed by the best men, could venture out so far, and for so long. The risks were high, but the rewards were higher still.

For the crew of one such boat, the “Evening Tide,” this was all routine stuff. The crew of ten had worked together for five seasons now, and knew each other well. The skipper had chosen his course, the main sails were hoisted, and they watched the other fishing boats spread out and disappear in various directions over the horizon. Very soon the “Evening Tide was on her own, and making good headway before a stiff breeze.

They sailed for two days, seeing nothing but water and sky. To begin with an occasional hungry seagull would dip down to check out if there was anything worth eating on the big floating thing. But soon even the gulls disappeared, as the big fishing boat sailed ever farther from land. Boredom was the worst part of the journey, for until they reached the best fishing grounds the crew had very little to do. More often than not the crew would doze off at the slightest excuse; which was why the lookout lounging up in the crow’s nest almost failed to spot the small dot on the horizon!

Straining his eyes against the glare of the sun, the lookout tried to figure out what it was he was seeing. Could it be one of the fleet? No, even the fastest boat could never have overtaken them; they would have been spotted long before now if they had. Which left only one answer, the dot on the horizon must be coming towards them, from the south. Picking up his spyglass the lookout trained it on the dot. He could only just make it out as a very small boat, with what looked like the remnants of a torn sail hanging from a broken mast. But the small boat was still too far away to make out any more detail.

Pointing excitedly, the lookout called to his skipper. With practised ease he scrambled up the rigging and snatched the spyglass from the man.

Immediately the skipper began shouting orders, and within minutes the “Evening Tide” was swinging round on a direct course for the small boat. Fast though she was, though, it still took over an hour for the big fishing boat to reach the smaller vessel. By now it was apparent that the small boat, which turned out to be nothing more than a large rowing boat with a sail, was simply drifting; its tattered sail flapping uselessly in the strong breeze. As they drew closer, the crew could see two figures stretched out below the gunwales. The two men, either unconscious, or dead, it was hard to tell from any distance, had badly sun-blistered skin, and were both dressed in dirty, torn and tattered clothes.

As the two boats came together there was a flurry of movement as the crew of the fishing boat quickly dropped a cargo net over the side. Without hesitation, or need for any orders, four fishermen clambered down the net and quickly hauled the two men aboard the “Evening Tide”.

The skipper quickly checked the two men over, making sure they were still alive. For a long instant he hesitated, with his hand hovering over the throat of one of the men.

None of the crew saw the mixed look of surprise and disbelief on his face.

Then the skipper frantically ran to the stern of the boat and grabbed the big wheel from the helmsman, as he did so, he discretely palmed something into one of his pockets. Barking orders to prepare to come about, and for someone to take care of the two men, he began to spin the wheel…they were heading back to Garramor City, with all available speed!

****

Amvaar was sitting at a desk in an empty classroom, surrounded by so many books that only the topmost part of his grey head was visible. From behind the books he muttered strange words under his breath. Every now and then he would make an irritated grunting noise as he stumbled over a particularly difficult word.

Standing in the doorway, Jagahin watched and listened for a while, amused at the antics of the old wizard. As always, though, the big fighter’s patience quickly began to fade.

‘Amvaar, what are you doing?’ Jagahin asked.

‘Huh?’ Amvaar’s entire head slowly rose over the top of the books. ‘Oh, Jagahin, it’s you. I’m, brushing up on the elfin language.’

‘Why are you bothering to do that?’ Jagahin walked into the room, and peered over the pile of books. ‘We never see elves any more. They hide in their forests, you know.’

Looking up at the giant youngster, Amvaar gave him a weak smile. ‘I know that. But for some reason elemental spells only work when they are spoken in elf, they don’t seem to work with our common tongue.’

Jagahin pulled a face of pure distaste. ‘Oh, it’s to do with that weird magic stuff. But I thought you wizards used the etherical kind?’

Amvaar sighed. It was difficult enough to make Jagahin understand anything about magic. The lad was bright enough, and was actually learning to read for the first time in his life, but as soon as magic was involved in a subject Jagahin would become so irritatingly stubborn. Amvaar knew it was not the youngster’s fault; he had an inbuilt fear and mistrust of all things magic, which would likely never be completely removed. This fear of magic had quickly become apparent just after the two of them had met for the first time. Amvaar had been sent on a quest to find the stolen Cloak of Etherical Light, and, against all orders to the contrary, had hired Jagahin to help him. But the big mercenary had quickly shown a healthy dread for wizards and their magic. All the same, Jagahin had stayed with Amvaar, and, after meeting two others, named Hoog and Priff, they had gone on to retrieve the cloak.

However, unbeknown to the four at the time, there were higher forces at work. Fate, along with the ailing dragon god, Nightwing, had conspired to bring these four together in an attempt to stop the power within Cloak of Etherical Light being used against the world, and to protect the world from any future evil. Now known collectively as the Silent Blade, the four had become Mount Oragil’s secret weapon against anything, or anyone who might attempt to bring disorder to the land.

Amvaar studied Jagahin’s handsome face for a long moment then said. ‘Yes we do, and I’ve already explained the difference to you. Wizards and sorceresses can use pure etherical powers because we are strong enough to manipulate the etheric entirely with our minds. We can mould it into anything we want, and transfer the result into a practical spell. It takes years of practice and dedication, but once it is mastered, then it becomes very easy to use. On the other hand, elemental magic users are much weaker, and need to rely on the elements to boost their spell power. Elemental spells only use a very small part of the etheric; the rest of the power comes from whichever element the caster is most comfortable with: like fire, or the air, and so on. The two components need to be mixed in just the right proportion to cast a spell; but the elemental part must be spoken out loud, as an incantation, and that is where knowledge of the elf language is so useful. Which is why I am learning as much about it as I can now.’

The look of distaste remained on Jagahin’s face, but he could not help his morbid curiosity about a subject that actually repulsed him; like the kind of people who will always stop to ogle the scene of a serious accident, just in case they might catch a glimpse of someone who has been badly hurt.

‘But why bother with all that elemental stuff, when you can use the etheric so easily?’

‘Ah!’ Amvaar’s sunken hazel eyes suddenly sparkled, and he raised a thin finger above the books. ‘That is a good question, my big friend, and one which the Wizards’ Council has argued about over the centuries. You see, there are quite a lot of spell types that the etheric alone cannot achieve. However, when we mix them with the elements, then they are perfectly feasible. But using the elements...