Read Online Heir to the Sundered Crown by Matthew Olney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew Olney
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Epic, War & Military, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Children's eBooks, Sword & Sorcery, Teen & Young Adult
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attack if the battle began to go ill.
Interspersed between the stakes were pits filled with sharpened sticks and nails. At a signal the pit could be collapsed by one of the many squires that would be waiting behind the battle line. The baron had made it clear to the young boys that they would have an important role to perform. They would be the ones who’d re-supply the arrows and weapons of the troops and bring food and water.
Lido was a confident commander; he had ruled the mountain lands for thirty years. He had seen his fair share of battles, both against mortal enemies and the remnants of the dark mages that sometimes attacked.
Zombies and ghouls were of no concern to him, he had seen and fought them before, and had emerged victorious. This time however, something made him doubt. A nagging feeling that this time he would face something far more terrible than the centuries old left over’s of the Magic Wars.
The war raging for the crown in the southern lands was of little concern to Lido, his name was listed as one of the so called six claimants, but in reality he and his men had not even marched against the other claimants. His war was here like it always was; his job was to defend Delfinnia from what lay within and beyond the vast Eclin mountain range.
A zombie after a century was a feeble thing; slow and weak. The ghouls however never lost their power, and were formidable foes. He adjusted his sword belt and gripped the hilt of his sword called the Mountain’s Hammer tighter. It had once belonged to his ancestor who had fought in that terrible final battle of the magic wars. The hilt was ornately decorated with golden serpents and at the centre laid a blue channelling crystal, which enabled the magic inside to enchant the blade.
‘The mages toppled mountains in their battles, rivers turned to blood and men died by the thousands. Only ‘Niveren had saved them that day’ his grandfather had always said, ‘but it was never a victory’ .
Those words came now to haunt Lido. What had the old man meant by that? All of the historians claimed it had been a total victory, the knights of Niveren had slain the Necromancer and the Diasect successfully defeated Danon, the master of the black magic’s. A champion had slain the evil mage and his soul sent into the void of damnation by the white mages.
Lido began to doubt the old tales. With an enemy that was sounding more and more like the great enemy of old he began to think the old man was onto something.
*
It was at dawn the next day that the ground began to shake and tremble. Men groggily stirred from their tents wrapped in thick furs against the frigid cold to see what was happening.
The alarm bells began to toll out over the vast camp. The enemy had arrived.
Running at the point of exhaustion Woven reached the barricade just ahead of the coming horde.
“Halt, who goes there?” Challenged the knight defending the mound.
“It is Woven, I must speak to the Baron at once” he replied tiredly. He showed the knight his blue crystal pendant, the identifying mark of the rangers and was promptly allowed entry.
He made his way through a camp in chaos as thousands of soldiers raced about arming themselves, and moved to their positions. The squires ran about, stamping out the cooking fires before heading to their posts. Horses were saddled as the knights pulled on their armour and fastened their sword belts.
A low warning tone from a horn echoed over the camp causing the activity to pause for a moment. Woven stopped and listened just like all of the others around him. Faintly being carried on the wind came the sound of inhuman moans, the snarling of beasts and the steady stomping of thousands of armoured troops.
The forces of Eclin were afraid, Woven could see it in the eyes of his countrymen, and he said a silent prayer. He prayed his people would win the day.
“Why are you bastards just standing around? Pull your fingers out of your arses, and
Interspersed between the stakes were pits filled with sharpened sticks and nails. At a signal the pit could be collapsed by one of the many squires that would be waiting behind the battle line. The baron had made it clear to the young boys that they would have an important role to perform. They would be the ones who’d re-supply the arrows and weapons of the troops and bring food and water.
Lido was a confident commander; he had ruled the mountain lands for thirty years. He had seen his fair share of battles, both against mortal enemies and the remnants of the dark mages that sometimes attacked.
Zombies and ghouls were of no concern to him, he had seen and fought them before, and had emerged victorious. This time however, something made him doubt. A nagging feeling that this time he would face something far more terrible than the centuries old left over’s of the Magic Wars.
The war raging for the crown in the southern lands was of little concern to Lido, his name was listed as one of the so called six claimants, but in reality he and his men had not even marched against the other claimants. His war was here like it always was; his job was to defend Delfinnia from what lay within and beyond the vast Eclin mountain range.
A zombie after a century was a feeble thing; slow and weak. The ghouls however never lost their power, and were formidable foes. He adjusted his sword belt and gripped the hilt of his sword called the Mountain’s Hammer tighter. It had once belonged to his ancestor who had fought in that terrible final battle of the magic wars. The hilt was ornately decorated with golden serpents and at the centre laid a blue channelling crystal, which enabled the magic inside to enchant the blade.
‘The mages toppled mountains in their battles, rivers turned to blood and men died by the thousands. Only ‘Niveren had saved them that day’ his grandfather had always said, ‘but it was never a victory’ .
Those words came now to haunt Lido. What had the old man meant by that? All of the historians claimed it had been a total victory, the knights of Niveren had slain the Necromancer and the Diasect successfully defeated Danon, the master of the black magic’s. A champion had slain the evil mage and his soul sent into the void of damnation by the white mages.
Lido began to doubt the old tales. With an enemy that was sounding more and more like the great enemy of old he began to think the old man was onto something.
*
It was at dawn the next day that the ground began to shake and tremble. Men groggily stirred from their tents wrapped in thick furs against the frigid cold to see what was happening.
The alarm bells began to toll out over the vast camp. The enemy had arrived.
Running at the point of exhaustion Woven reached the barricade just ahead of the coming horde.
“Halt, who goes there?” Challenged the knight defending the mound.
“It is Woven, I must speak to the Baron at once” he replied tiredly. He showed the knight his blue crystal pendant, the identifying mark of the rangers and was promptly allowed entry.
He made his way through a camp in chaos as thousands of soldiers raced about arming themselves, and moved to their positions. The squires ran about, stamping out the cooking fires before heading to their posts. Horses were saddled as the knights pulled on their armour and fastened their sword belts.
A low warning tone from a horn echoed over the camp causing the activity to pause for a moment. Woven stopped and listened just like all of the others around him. Faintly being carried on the wind came the sound of inhuman moans, the snarling of beasts and the steady stomping of thousands of armoured troops.
The forces of Eclin were afraid, Woven could see it in the eyes of his countrymen, and he said a silent prayer. He prayed his people would win the day.
“Why are you bastards just standing around? Pull your fingers out of your arses, and
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