Ying wanted to be angry but somehow in Valhandra’s glorious presence, he could not. There was simply too much peace to feel anger, or sorrow which had filled his heart until now. But his desire remained still. For in His presence, Ying understood that the ultimate desire of anyone’s being was to be in the presence of his creator—it was wholly clear to him.
As was his desire to be with Mei Liang again. “Sire, I humbly abide by all You decree, for Your will is perfect. And yet—”
// YOU DESIRE TO BE WITH HER AGAIN //
“Yes.”
// COULD YOU NOT WAIT EVEN A SHORT WHILE? //
“What does the Creator of all that is consider a short while?”
// I CALL ALL TIMES A SHORT WHILE //
“Please, Sire. I have never desired anything much in all of my life, short though it may be. But to see Mei Liang again…I would do anything.”
// YOU MAY SEE HER AGAIN, YET. BUT THAT PATH WOULD BE ARDUOUS. ARE YOU WILLING TO walk IT, THOUGH IT TAKE FIVE HUNDRED YEARS? //
Ying did not permit himself to consider the implications. “As You have called all times a short while, and as it is written, “A thousand years is like a day in Your eyes,” I am willing.”
At that very moment, the pillar of fire changed into the form of Valhandra’s countenance which, for the rest of Ying’s life on this side of the great veil, he could never quite describe as anything but pure glory. Valhandra smiled and enveloped him with the warmth of a father’s embrace.
“YOUR WISH SHALL BE GRANTED.”
From that day forward, Ying remained as a hermit in the hills of Xingjia. It is said that he lived for over four hundred years and had never tasted death. Through the rise of the Sojourner Kingdom, the many struggles to overcome the forces of Malakandor, the Prince of Darkness that warred in the spiritual and physical realms against Valhandra and His people, Ying was said to have become a seer with whom the Sojourner kings sought council. And it is said that he endured centuries of namelessness and the deaths of many a friend, all in the hope that one day he would see Mei Liang again.
All for the hand of a princess.
A Note from the Author
Dear Friend,
Thank you for taking the time to read From the Ashes, a prequel to my novel ONCE WE WERE KINGS, sample chapters of which can be found directly following this note. I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief trip into the history of the sojourners. Whether you’ve already read Once We Were Kings already or have yet to enjoy it, I believe you’ll find hidden treasure of continuity, though events of From the Ashes predate those of Once We Were Kings by five hundred years.
If you’ve enjoyed this story, won’t you please recommend it to a friend? And if you would be so kind, please leave a review on Amazon.com as it truly helps with spreading the word and making your favorite titles bestsellers.
I’d love to hear from you. Please contact me here:
The contact button on the official Ian Alexander website at www.IanAlex.com
Twitter: @IanAlex77
On Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/IanAlex70
and http://on.fb.me/IanAlex
And now, please turn the page to enjoy the sample chapters from Once We Were Kings!
Sincerely,
An excerpt from
ONCE WE WERE KINGS
Joshua Graham
writing as
IAN ALEXANDER
DAWN TREADER PRESS
DAWN TREADER PRESS
titles by
Joshua Graham
Award Winning Titles
Beyond Justice
Suspense Magazine Best of 2010
Barnes & Noble #1 bestseller
Amazon Kindle bestseller
2008 Amazon Breakout Novel Award Competition Semi-Finalist
The Door’s Open
2010 Authonomy Christmas Story Competition
The Accidental Series
The Accidental Existentialist
The Accidental Exorcist
The Accidental Acquittal (Death and Taxes)
The Accidental Healer
The Accidental Hero
The Accidental Rebel
The Accidental Poltergeist
Historical and Fantasy
Four Gifts for Aria
Legend of the Tiger’s Throne
DAWN TREADER PRESS
For the latest on Joshua Graham’s work visit:
www.joshua-graham.com
Visit Ian Alexander’s Official website:
www.ianalex.com
Copyright ©2011 by Ian Alexander.
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Anna Steinbauer
Cover art copyright ©2011 by Dawn Treader Enterprises
Library of Congress Cataloging-In-Publication Data
Alexander, Ian
Once We Were Kings / Ian Alexander
ISBN 0-9844526-1-3 (hardcover)
I. Alexander, Ian II. Title.
Praise for
ONCE WE WERE KINGS
…a page-turning epic fantasy adventure…”
“…right out of the Golden Age of fantasy…”
“…elements of Tolkien…the Belgariad, the ‘Adept’ trilogy by Piers Anthony, and a healthy dollop of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles.”
“…Ian Alexander provides a spark, a momentum often absent in other epic fantasies.”
“…Compulsively readable…”
“…an admirable debut novel.”
~Michael Bellomo, Amazon Bestselling Author
“…an epic fantasy tale of pure delight…”
“Joshua Graham transitions from writing suspense and thrillers to the fantasy realm as Ian Alexander with flying colors.”
“…invokes awe in the reader that I’ve only felt with J.R.R. Tolkien, David Eddings and before them both, C.S. Lewis.”
“..a page turner with a very driven plot…
“What doesn’t this book have? Magic, shapeshifters, powerful deities and characters that you love and love to hate…”
“…will stay with you long after you’ve gotten to the end and leave you wanting more.”
“This is one of those books that you cannot miss in 2011 if you’re a fantasy lover.”
~The Top shelf
“…an amazing adventure…”
“…a fast-paced, action-packed adventure that hooked me from the start and kept me glued to the pages until the very end.”
“…incredible action, adventure and characters…”
“…The characters practically leap off the page, they are so vivid and real! “
“… rich symbolism with a great message…”
“…values and a message that you can feel good about…”
“…I would definitely be the first one in line for more Ian Alexander novels!”
~Life in Review
“…an amazing epic adventure that will take the reader on an unforgettable journey like no other.
“... I was immediately sucked into the story…”
“…absorbing me and surrounding me with amazing imagery, emotion and distinctiveness like none other I had ever read before.”
“…truly poetic.”
“…a generation bridging epic fantasy that is sure to span and hold strong through the test of time as well as our ever changing society and circumstances of readers everywhere.”
“…I often found my heart gripped within sadness, as well as bursting with joy.”
“…action, adventure, intrigue, romance and even shape-shifting spirits.”
“…the ending is the perfect segue into future books.
“A true classic in the making.”
~Cafe of Dreams Book Reviews
“Ian Alexander’s ONCE WE WERE KINGS sets new standards for epic fantasy.”
“ONCE WE WERE KINGS transcends the qualities found in such great works as “The Chronicles of Narnia” to “The Lord of the Rings”.
“… a true master of the written word.”
“…
a thoroughly magical story filled with memorable characters, danger, hope, inspiration and romance.”
“Alexander’s ONCE WE WERE KINGS should sit on the highest shelf of your library.”
“A sparkling story that will leave the reader breathless and wanting more.”
~Susan Wingate, author of DROWNING and the award-winning BOBBY’S DINER series
“…[Ian Alexander] delivers a very pleasing fantasy epic.”
“…seems to parallel some of our own socio-political climates, in regards to terrorism, racial and cultural biases, religious biases…”
“…many pleasant surprises…”
“…definitely recommend it, especially to those who are fans of novels such as Narnia”
“…I look forward with great anticipation to see what occurs next with some of the characters from this [book].”
“…You won’t be disappointed.”
~Rhodes Review
For Alexander and Madeleine,
My beloved children
FORE WORD
Gathered round the wide and level stump of the Great Ancients' Tree, the Twelve Elders of the Sojourner's Council stood within the stone walls of the courtyard and rejoiced that the fulfillment of Shamis the Stargazer's prophecy was now at hand.
By the alignment of the northern constellations they knew that the time of deliverance drew nigh. By the anomalous tide shifts and the unprecedented lunar phases, they knew that the dark reign of Malakandor would soon come to an end.
What they knew not was that a traitor lurked amongst them.
Oreus, the chief elder stood and raised his chalice. "Brethren, you have honored the name of Valhandra with longsuffering and steadfast hope." He turned to the elder on his right. "Hephesta the Wolf-Hearted, you have endured three wars over the course of five hundred years."
With deep humility, Hephesta arose and inclined his head.
"And Bereus, the Tiger-Hearted." He too arose. "Thy service as the stalwart protector of the royal line beyond three hundred years has not gone unnoticed." This continued until he turned his attention to the final elder. At seventy-nine years of age, she was the youngest, most spry of them all.
"And you, dear youngling—Lucretia, Raven-Heart." At the very mention of her name, the council began to applaud to such effect that a flock of wild night birds flew blackly from tree branches into the deep and purple sky. A fleeing cloud. "Unto thee do we bestow special honor. For fearlessly have you employed the gifts bestowed by Valhandra for a cause predating even your own birth." Once again Oreus regarded the entire council. "Would that we possessed such faith as our beloved sister, when we ourselves were but fledglings."
Completely aware of the effect her beauty had upon all who beheld her, the impostor who had killed the true Lucretia and taken on her likeness now feigned a smile and inclined her head.
"Rejoice brethren, for our redemption is nigh," declared Oreus. "And now, among the faithful, in the villages of Talen Wood, in the great Citadel of Valdshire Tor, yea, verily, in thine own hearts," once again he lifted his chalice and cleared his throat, "Prepare ye the way for the beneficent reign of the Great Deliverer!"
They all responded lifting their chalices. "The Great Deliverer!"
"The Deliverer." The false Lucretia scoffed quietly as she tapped her cup against those of the other council members. She smiled again at the old men as they imbibed of the ceremonial Dragon'sblood Wine. Noble warriors though they were, able-bodied and powerful though they were, she could not help but laugh at the pathetic manner in which they would meet their demise.
First, Hephesta fell. Clutching his throat, his eyes widened with something entirely alien to those who'd known him and certainly to himself:
Fear.
A chorus of confused cries filled the courtyard. All gathered around the fallen Hephesta. The impostor did not join in. Rather, she watched with satisfaction as the pulverized Shikar stone mixed in the wine began to take its toll.
One by one, they fell. Ancient warriors who had arrogantly considered themselves immortal. Just like Hephesta, now writhing, now frothing. A most pleasing sight indeed.
Now, the impostor did not even attempt to restrain her smile.
Having witnessed the violent throes of death and realizing what was happening, three of the surviving Elders—Oreus amongst them—stopped short of drinking the poisoned bloodwine. They saw her laughing and charged forward, swords and crossbows at the ready.
"Lucretia, what have you done?" cried Oreus.
Timena and Cerbeas trained their weapons upon her.
"You have not only betrayed us, but all Sojourners,” said Cerbeas as he drew his crossbow.
"And it is you who have betrayed the true ruler of this world!" Her hands trembled. If only she could fly this very moment. But she had prepared for this, trained her reflexes, her mind.
"You have turned against Valhandra, Himself," said Timena.
"Valhandra is dead!" The impostor stood defiant. One hand still in her pocket, she fingered the razor-stars fashioned out of smooth Shikar stone. Their very presence weakened her, but not for long.
Oreus lifted his staff. The orb atop glowed blue and white. The impostor knew better than to hesitate. "Would you compound the pain of this betrayal by compelling me to deal with you as I must?" His eyes now brimming azure pools, Oreus pointed his staff.
"But I am not Lucretia, old fool!"
Stunned, Oreus hesitated.
The impostor let out a feral cry and leapt into the air. She forced her eyes shut and invoked utter blackness around her entire being. In one swift motion, she flung the three Shikar razor-stars at Oreus, Timea and Cerbeas.
The first struck and lodged itself into Oreus' forehead. He let out a roar and fell to the ground, convulsing and howling in pain.
The second caught Timea in the leg just as he began to transform. He cried out and fell to one side, trembling and foaming.
The third grazed Cerbeas just as he completed his equine transformation and flew from the slaughter and bounded clear over the stone wall.
Unhampered by the fetters of a human body, the impostor flew up and looked for him. But to her dismay the night did not betray her quarry. Even from this vantage point high above the courtyard, she could not see him, though he had galloped into the night in the form of a mighty stallion.
It mattered not. Cerberas had been grazed. If he survived, it would not be for long. She would simply report that the mission was prosperous. And this would more than suffice, unless her master condescended to having the bodies counted.
Alighting on the Great Table of the Ancients, the impostor smiled with satisfaction. The only remaining testament to their existence would be the carcasses, whatever had not yet been picked apart by vultures.
CHAPTER ONE
Six Months Prior
In the blackest of nights, a fortnight before the seventeenth birthday of a slave named Render, the moon, full and blood-red glared down upon Talen Wood, a ways from the Citadel walls of Valdshire Tor. Three boys bent upon nothing good approached the lad as he lay down, trying to sleep. Render’s master—last seen with his beard bathed in drivel—reclined in his chair, a drunken stupor barely veiling his cherry-nosed countenance.
Outside the damp broom closet better known as Render's room, in that fetid cottage in which he and his master dwelled, one of the boys tapped furtively on the wall.
"Render. Hssst! Render."
"What? Who's there?" So poor was his vision he could barely see the fingers before his face, for the sands of slumber had encrusted his eyes.
"Come on, Render. Are you going join us or not?" He recognized the voice of Kaine, his elder brother. He too was a slave belonging to an old master on the other side of Talen Wood. Some two years his senior, Kaine led this band of mongrels who, despite all their capers, had always eluded capture. They were the closest thing to a family he had.
Atop the ledge of the window sat a black cat, not unlike the one he had seen a day or two pr
ior. It ceased licking its paw and washing its face. With turquoise eyes, it stared straight into Render's. Throughout Render's life, black cats appeared frequently, though he had never been able to take one as a pet. The cat looked over to Kaine and his companions, then back at Render. It leapt down from the ledge, almost daring Render to follow.
Kaine appeared in the window and grinned. "Coming or not, Rend?"
"After last time? I shouldn't go anywhere with you again." But something about that cat drew Render's curiosity. The way it regarded him, as if it knew of something interesting, an adventure or a pirate's chest full of gold and trinkets. Perhaps a magical sword.
Render stole past his snoring master and out the door.
"Come now, you old tortoise," said Kaine, the oldest of the boys. He stood at least a head taller than Render. Kaine brushed his fire-red hair out of his eyes, smiled and slapped a heavy hand onto Render's shoulder. "Hungry?"
"Do birds fly?" Render's master afforded him but one meal each day, though he toiled without respite in his stables and fields and barnyard from the rising of the sun till dusk.
"Well, they're hungry." Kaine tossed a glance to Folen and Stewan, the twins. When they faced each other, they looked like reflections. Beneath the dirt lay bespeckled cheeks which in the daylight took the hue of apples. This more than betrayed their tender age of eight years.
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