by
Samuel Rikard
The Order of the Trident: Speculum – An Eldarlands Tale Book II
Samuel Rikard – Eldarlands Publishing
Copyright © 2015-2017
Printed in the United States by CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform.
All rights reserved. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without express permission. You are supporting writers and allowing us to continue to publish books for every reader.
The story, cover art, and illustrated maps were created by Samuel Rikard.
Edited by Edward Gehlert. Foreword by Bob Dixon
Genre: Fantasy / Series
ISBN: 1539879046
ISBN-13: 978-1539879046
ASIN: B01N38SL4J
Publisher's Note
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used with expressed permission. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, and locations not covered by a release is entirely coincidental.
This work, including all characters, names, and places:
© 2017 Samuel Rikard – Eldarlands Publishing, unless otherwise noted.
Stay up to date on all of my projects at http://www.samuelrikard.com
I struggled, longer than I care to admit, with the decision of who to dedicate this book to. I've so many people that have shown interest in who I am and what I do that I had trouble picking just one in the long list of names that raced through my head. These people push me to keep moving forward. They ask me how to get involved and help spread my name. They've earned a place in my life, and for that, I'm eternally grateful. I truly wish I could list each and every one of them, but alas, this page is intended for a single person.
As this will not be my last book, I'll have many other dedications to send out into the world, but I believe this book needs to be solely dedicated to my mom. She's a wonderful, strong, twenty-nine year old woman, or at least that's what she claims anyway. I wouldn't be where I am if I didn't have her guidance throughout my life. She always inspired me to be unique and creative, especially when the rest of my world tried so hard to crush my desires. From her, I learned to fight for myself, and to stand for what I believed in. So, thank you, mom. I'm happy to have been raised by you. And even though we've had our problems in my younger years, I'll always love you!
Foreword
I had the pleasure of meeting Sam a few years back at Tri-Con in Evansville, Indiana. In the dealer's room, he had the misfortune of being seated at the table next to mine. Setting up our tables, we struck up a conversation, as many authors do. The conversation would soon be joined by fellow author, Ed Gehlert and his wife Eva. At some point during the day we decided that since author, Shane Moore was late to the con, it was our civic duty to decorate his table with as much trash as we could find. It escalated quickly. How odd it was for the con goers to make this easy by adding their own garbage to the ever growing pile. Throughout the convention many more shenanigans happened, more than the courts will currently allow me to speak of. That's a joke by the way. Courts were not involved. But there was one thing that did come from that amazing and eventful weekend. The friendships I made with many of the guests and staff.
This past fall, 2016, I reprised my role of comedy superstar and general goofball at Tri-Con. I was in the midst of my own book release, Snafu Fubar: Nothing Heroic when my first sale approached the table while I was setting up. It was Sam. He handed me a ten dollar bill, to which I had to laugh a little. The reason being, Sam was releasing his own novel, The Order of the Trident. I'd already intended to pick it up from him, and for the same price no less. My humor aside, and a brief explanation on my part, we agreed it made more sense to just trade books. It wasn't until I started reading The Order of the Trident that I realized how truly gifted of a writer Sam was. Over the past few years, since our meeting, we'd had plenty of talks, either in person or via internet messages. I knew he was a down to earth, intelligent, and good person, but I never realized how well he made a story come to life until I read the words within that book. I found myself in awe as I read each page so naturally. As you can imagine, when he asked me if I would write the foreword to the second book of the series, I considered it a great honor.
One of the things I like to do as an author is to help promote those friends who are on this creative adventure with me. That being said, I'm usually seen at events sporting a T-shirt that features a local band I like, or an artist, or what have you. At the 2016 Tri-Con release of The Order of the Trident, I noticed Sam had shirts printed up for the event that sponsored both the convention and his new novel. It was about one in the morning, after we'd both been to the Mojo Brothers Party (a party one must attend if ever given the opportunity) when I realized I hadn't had the chance to grab one of the shirts. I wanted to help support my fellow author and the convention, to which we were both welcomed to with open arms. But unfortunately the dealer's room was closed and I was scheduled to leave extremely early the next morning due to the long drive back home. Sam literally took the shirt off his back and handed it to me.
When I suggest authors or musicians to people, especially if I know them, my recommendation is based on two criteria. The first, obviously being talent, and the second is how good of a person they are. Sam meets both of these categories in high fashion. If you ever have the pleasure of meeting him at a signing, you'll see exactly what I'm speaking of. He treats the patrons just as he does the main attraction, each with respect and a friendly, welcoming smile. When you approach his table you'll feel as if you're talking to an old friend that you haven’t seen in a while. And I promise you, before the event is over, he'll be that friend. Rare in today’s world do you find such an amazing talent, not only as an author but as a human being.
Bob Dixon
January, 2017
Reviews
“A fantasy-adventure, complete with dragons, orcs, elves and magic. The author builds the story and draws you in, I couldn't put the book down until I got to the end. Packed with surprises to the very last page!”
– Tony Thomason
“If you like adventure and to get lost in another world then this is the book for you. Filled with many friends and foes you'll be on your seats edge till the end!”
– Amazon Customer
“Great start to a great series. I can really see how Sam has cut his teeth on epic fantasy! Defo waiting for the end project and the remainder n this series!”
– Shane Moore
“Great first copy. Can't wait to read more.”
– William Virella
“This story will submerge you into a unique fantasy world unlike any you've ever imagined! Masterfully written and captivating, it is a must-have for your collection. ”
– Leah
“Great Read”
– Kim Eckrich
“Great story line. I would find minutes during my work day just to read a little more!”
– Carol Rikard
“An outstanding read. THIS is fantasy at its finest! ”
– Sal Melvina
“Your fantasy library deserves this book! Buy it! Now! I'm serious, start clicking that mouse.”
– George Canfield
“Read. Enjoy and appreciate the way this guy writes. I'm not going to make recommendations if I don't believe in the item/product/book. Thumbs up all the way!!”
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�� Elle
“Great story that catches your attention from the beginning, full of characters that you will find yourself caring about and unexpected twist that you will never see coming! Can't wait for book 2”
– Bob Dixon
“Samuel is an AMAZING author. I love the way you never really know what's coming next, but everything ties together perfectly. This is a very easy-read and I would recommend it to everyone! ”
– Sam Hanson
Contents
Chapter I
The Shadow's Rise
Chapter II
From The Ashes
Chapter III
The Bigger They Are
Chapter IV
Chosen Regrets
Chapter V
The Price of Trust
Chapter VI
Fantastic Beast
Chapter VII
Slipping Shackles
Chapter VIII
Proving Ground
Chapter IX
To Know Thyself
Chapter X
Once Lost
Chapter XI
The Hawk and the Wyrm
Chapter XII
Mirror Mirror
Chapter XIII
Through the Looking Glass
Chapter XIV
A Way Home
Chapter XV
Tribulations
Chapter XVI
The Heist
Chapter XVII
Parting Ways
Chapter XVIII
Lost Time
Chapter XIX
An Orc of a Different Color
Chapter XX
Ties That Bind Us
Chapter XXI
The Long Walk
Chapter XXII
Out With the Old
Epilogue
And Then There Were None
Chapter I
The Shadow's Rise
Rolling clouds of gray soar across the heavens leaving an eternal darkness over the world below. Far to the south an explosion of energy washed across the land, not seen, but felt. The mystical wave traveled in all directions; announcing its arrival to all capable of understanding.
The city of Idenfal was the largest for months in any direction. Its northern face was protected by a wall of mountains wrapping around and swallowing the ancient fortress settlement. A large chasm blocked the south limiting access to a handful of snow covered stone bridges stretching across the deep ravine.
The clanking of swords and guttural laughter echoed from the west where a massive army of orcs are engaged in their training. They displayed thick armors and heavy weapons; made for purpose rather than show. Crude structures stood around the orc grounds. These were lined with fur against the harsh winter winds and steady snowfall. It was a city in its own right on the outskirts of Idenfal.
A great many orcs stood in a large circle cheering those within. Of the two castes the veterans were easy to identify. They wore trophies of fur and hide over their crude armors. Their gray-tinted skin was marred serving as both resume and medal in their battle hardened society. The younger orcs wore no such markings having not earned the honor yet.
Several unarmored orcs fought back to back fending off their circling aggressors. Lashing out, they fought to keep them at bay. As one would fall the others would engulf them, tightening their ranks.
The largest of orcs watched from his stage made of large bone. He wore the pelt of a black bear over his back. Its head was mounted atop a helm giving him the appearance of the large creature. The weathered skin clinging to his face was covered in scars of victories long past. He sat in his chair watching the younglings train. Only the strong would survive. They had no use for anything less.
The elder orc looked up from the fight, sniffing at the air. Pressing his hands against the arms of the rugged throne he pushed himself up towering over the others. “Stand down!” His booming voice echoed across the field, halting all within earshot.
A somewhat smaller orc, but equally marred approached. “Warchief, what do you command?”
“Time for training is over. Gear and group them. No more the four paired together. Something's coming. We need to be ready.” The grizzled warchief stepped down from his platform and into the layered snow. He felt the pain of his years starting to catch up with him, though he was still strong enough to hold off any who dared challenge him. Looking over his shoulder, he gazed upon the orc once again. “That one on the end is a bit scrawny. See how he fares against the rest. Make sure they know their place.”
“As you command, Warchief.”
The old orc marched across the field, listening to the snow crunch beneath his boots. Reaching one of the towering archways of the ancient citadel he pulled the wooden door open and went inside.
The chiseled ashlar of the looming fortress was weathered from time and element, but held strong; forming a massive cathedral into the mountain city. Near the peak of the tallest spire a figure stared out of the stained glass window watching the commander leave the field. The orc was nearing the end of his days, but he was too stubborn to die in his sleep. He'd have to go with a weapon in hand. But none of the orcs were strong enough to surpass him. New blood was needed, but it seemed a disservice to get rid of him through simpler manners. No, the old orc would die. But it would be in service to him. The shadowed figure felt a sensation erupt a great distance away. There was only one thing that could be responsible for such an outburst.
“Time has come.” Spinning on his heel, he marched across the throne room and into the grand hall. The walls were decorated with black and white tapestries. Each one embroidered to show an antlered face stretched out overlooking the world. They fluttered as he passed, falling back into their stagnant status afterward. Between each hanging cloth a sconce was mounted to the wall. Orange and yellow flame danced across the top seemingly to its own rhythm. Not even his passing made them alter direction.
His boots echoed along the bare, stone floors announcing his approach long before his arrival. Rounding the corner he passed into a narrow stairwell and rushed down, circling several times. Reaching the bottom he watched the dust fly up from his steps. It'd been so long since he'd visited this place. Taking a deep breath he continued on while staring at the large doors of black stone in the distance. They seemed so far away despite the relatively short walk.
Cautiously making his way forward he placed his gloved hand upon the ancient stone. It was cold to the touch even through the thick leather. He took another deep breath. Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, unsure if he was ready for what awaited on the other side. Clenching his hands around the pitted rings he pulled, watching the seam between them widen. Stale air and dust rushed through the widening crack showering him in its stench. He wasn't surprised. It'd been millennia since he'd last opened them. None of the others would dare even if they knew where it was.
He opened the doors just enough the pass. Stepping through he felt the lingering presence of the divine might that once occupied the room, gone for an eternity, but still remnant. The twelve towering statues glared down at him, their faces gone long before his time. He marched through their pensive gaze stopping in front of the dull mirror on the far wall. A thick haze drifted over the surface like a cloud of smoke in the dust filled room. Placing his hand against the dirty reflection he pushed, feeling the magics swirling within.
The surface flexed slightly forming around his hand. The tension was that of a pool of water, waiting to swallow him whole. He pushed harder forcing his arm into the mirror. Buried to the elbow he pushed as hard as he could feeling the resistance increase. His arm quivered against the force unable to push further. “Izaryle, damn it. Let me go!” He strained with all his might trying to pass through the standing portal.
A dark shadow fell over the room. The lilliputian light breaching the open door was snuffed out leaving the room in total darkness.
He felt the abundance of power surround him. It twisted his insides making him feel sick. So much
evil in one place was too much for anyone, even him. Forcing the pain down as best he could he held his resolve against the entity. “I'm surprised it took you this long.”
He felt the words resonate in himself more than hearing them; though the power behind each syllable shook the foundations of the towering statues, knocking dust from the ceiling. “Why do you use my name in vain, Rezerik? You should have known you can't leave me so easily. None can.”
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