Wera came up to talk to Tarthur, and handed him a flask of kokhor. “Thank you for what you did, Tarthur. Because of you, my husband did not die in vain. There is so much that I wish I could give you, but…all I have is this kokhor. I know Truin wanted you to have it.”
Tarthur nodded solemnly as he went forward to receive the gift. “It is because of people like your husband that I was able to do what I did. It is I who owe him so much. Rest assured, I will not forget him.”
* * *
Tarthur and Derlin had long anticipated their return to Krendon, but as it happened the reality of it was much different. It was only the five of them now, Derlin, Tarthur, Addyean, Yvonne, and Zelin. Baron Ercrilla and the rest had returned earlier. King Garkin had given Addyean another year off, and he chose to stay in Krendon.
Tarthur enjoyed seeing all of the old people whom he had known, and all of them were glad to see Tarthur. Some of them he flattered. Judith, for example, he told that while the dinners he had shared with the king were scrumptious, they were nothing compared to her mincemeat pies. Tarthur reminded the blacksmith, however, that there were indeed such things as dragons, and he had a very good friend who was one, and was personally offended at the man’s disbelief. Tarthur sternly warned him to be careful, lest a dragon should choose to prove it to everyone. This time, the man didn’t argue.
The one person that Tarthur didn’t see however was Morty. He was nowhere around when Tarthur came into town. While Tarthur hadn’t exactly expected Morty to meet him on the way rejoicing, he did think his absence was a little bit peculiar. Tarthur and Derlin had been discussing how to treat Morty on the trip to Krendon. While it certainly wouldn’t be appropriate to blast him with tongues of fire, they had to make sure that he knew who had won.
The town banquet arrived, and bolstered by Tarthur’s praise, Judith had cooked up a doozy. And this time the best food went to Tarthur first, even though he politely demurred to Baron Ercrilla, who of course gave it back. They were in the middle of this exchange when Morty walked in and a hush fell over the whole town. They all remembered how Morty had talked after Tarthur and Derlin had left. Of course, back then most of them had been on his side, but now that Tarthur was the hero, allegiances shifted.
“Uh…welcome home, Tarthur and Derlin…” he managed to stammer out.
“Morty,” Tarthur responded. “Good to see you. I was beginning to wonder where you were.” At this, the tension left the room.
Morty walked up to Tarthur and Tarthur saw that Morty was beginning to feel more comfortable. “I was a little afraid that you’d be mad at me for all those past episodes and misunderstandings. I was um…kind of trying to avoid you.”
Tarthur grabbed Morty around the shoulders and began to talk to him in the old buddy sort of way. “That’s ridiculous. I tried to leave those petty quarrels behind me a long time ago. And besides, it should be you forgiving me. I usually got the better of you, you know.” Morty looked like he wanted to argue vehemently, but then thought better of it, and just nodded in agreement.
Tarthur smiled generously. “See then, you were scared for nothing. I’m glad we got that all cleared up.”
Morty smiled. “Yeah, me too.”
Tarthur went over to the table, poured them a couple of glasses of wine with his back to Morty, and came back with a twinkle in his eye. “And to prove that there’s no hard feelings, how ’bout a drink?”
THE END
Stay tuned for a special preview of ProphecyQuest and SwordQuest and the BLOOPERS from DreamQuest. Bill is also the author of Alizel’s Song, a fictional retelling of the War in Heaven and fall of Lucifer. Click on the link to read excerpts, see the trailer, or purchase the book (paperback and kindle).
ProphecyQuest (Now available – Kindle, Paperback, and Audiobook)
Journey once again to the fabled Lands of Daranor in the sequel to DreamQuest. A scholar stumbles on an old prophecy regarding One who can see himself as he really is, and thus pass through the Wall of Glass separating the Eternal Vale from the Lands of Daranor. An apparition of Tivu the Cloudwalker signifies that the age has come to pass, and the child now walks among men. The prophecy dictates that with the opening of the gateway, the lost Power of Air will return to the world. Tarthur sees this as a chance to rescue the shapeshifter Yan and sets off to fulfill the prophecy. But, unbeknownst to him, another mysterious creature is also hot on the trail, relentlessly pursuing the Power of Air for his own ends. Soon, Tarthur begins not only to fear for his own life, but for that of his young son Alahim, who seems to be inexplicably caught up in the prophecy every step of the way.
ProphecyQuest has received rave reviews from many sources, including the Chair of the Newbery Committee.
Excerpt
It wasn’t unheard of to see someone out and about at this time of night, but this man seemed not to fit. For one thing, Gerthoud had never seen clothes like that before. The stranger wasn’t going about his business, but just stood there, eyes fixated on Gerthoud, as if he were looking straight through him. That was especially odd, as the young man was the one who was transparent.
“It is time.” When he finally spoke, Gerthoud was shocked by the pleading urgency in the other’s voice. Gerthoud looked down at his watch, forgetting that he didn’t own one.
“Time for what?” Gerthoud was about to add, ‘time for you to leave me alone!’ but thought better of it. Something about this figure frightened him.
“The One walks among us! It is time for him to enter.” The figure began walking closer to Gerthoud. He was only a few meters away now.
Gerthoud instinctively stepped back, but this only caused the other to increase his anxiety all the more. His eyes called out to him, beckoning Gerthoud to help him. “The age is here. The time is now! I cannot do this alone!”
Gerthoud rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the specter of the vision he saw. That ‘house brew’ must have been a lot stronger than he realized. When he looked again, the figure was gone.
Cautious now, Gerthoud continued walking towards home, his pace slightly quickened. After he had gone a few hundred more meters, though, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He quietly ducked into an alleyway and began to relieve himself against the wall of a building.
The previous scare had almost been forgotten, as he happily urinated on the wall. He thought to write his name, but then sadly remembered that he knew neither how to read nor write. It was amazing how alcohol could manage to magnify one’s perceived possessions and abilities. Once, he had even jumped off a table, believing that he could fly. His constant limp was to serve as an eternal reminder that he could not. He was almost done when he noticed with alarm that his urine had a green tint to it. What had Rowen put into his vile concoction this time? As he looked around, though, he saw that the green tint was coming from a mist that was slowly wrapping around his ankles. Confused, Gerthoud turned to see a new figure blocking the alley. This just wasn’t his night for drunken hallucinations!
The new figure was dressed all in dark black robes and seemed to float on the green mist. Suddenly something made Gerthoud very afraid.
“What did he tell you?” The figure spoke with a raspy voice that grated on Gerthoud’s eardrums.
“Who?” He asked his question boldly, daring the vision to challenge him.
If the figure was annoyed, Gerthoud couldn’t tell. “The one who came to you before. The Cloudwalker.” His voice sounded the same as before.
Gerthoud had been pretty drunk before, but he never remembered his hallucinations talking to him about each other. Something was seriously wrong here. Gerthoud decided to play along. He didn’t know any Cloudwalkers, or even what one was, but he instinctively knew who the dark figure was referring to.
“He said something about the time. Time for ‘the One’ to do something he couldn’t do by himself.” After speaking the words, Gerthoud almost wished he hadn’t. Something was not right.
The figure seemed pleased. “Did he say anything else?” No
w Gerthoud was beginning to get annoyed again, his moods quickly changing as he felt threatened.
“He said that you should get out of here and leave me alone!” Gerthoud almost shouted the words.
The dark wizard nodded. It seemed that he was satisfied with his interrogation. He turned to leave, and then turned back. “I almost forgot something. You should be rewarded for your help. I will make you great…I will make you powerful.” He was almost panting with anticipation. “But first…I need something from you.”
At this he brought his hand up over Gerthoud’s chest, and then his fingers abruptly stiffened as a green glow began to form in his palm. Gerthoud felt the worst pain of his life. It felt as if the very cells of his body were being ripped from him, his life-force being torn from his chest. The pain cut through the haze of drunkenness and allowed him to feel the last few moments of his life with astounding lucidity. This was real. He screamed with all his might, but his voice was quickly lost as he felt his life draining from his body.
The wizard’s breath was haggard, full of weakened excitement. He grabbed the dead body and slumped it over his shoulder. Before he left, he paused for a brief moment to savor the sensation of the warm life he felt within him mix with the cold night air. So the One now walked the earth. His goal had never been closer. The race was on.
SwordQuest (Coming Late 2013/Early 2014)
The last installment in the Lands of Daranor trilogy starts with the companions in dire straights. Loved ones and great leaders have been lost, and the prophecy is only partially fulfilled. A strange and foreign terror threatens the land, more powerful than anything ever seen before.
The only hope may lie in the confidence of a broken man and the wisdom of a child.
Excerpt
The room stank of despair. There was just no other way to describe it. Everything in the room seemed only a shade of its former self. Chipped paint barely clung to the walls. The windows provided only the slightest protection against the wind, and did nothing to stop the chill dampness that seeped in through the cracks. Even the long wooden bench that ran along the length of the bar seemed ready to give up and crack as it sagged under the combined weight of half a dozen grossly overweight and sedentary beings. One interrupted his blank stare ahead only long enough to raise his tankard to his lips, the exertion of which caused him to sweat profusely. He wiped his brow and then sighed as if the world had done him some grave injustice. Another stared wistfully in his glass, swirling it around endlessly as if staring at the end of his life. The shabby cat absentmindedly pawed at a mouse who was too disinterested to move away. Searching his mind, Yonathan did not think that he had ever come upon a more pitiable place.
He smiled.
If the rumors were true, this was just the place that he would find what he was looking for.
His calm eyes searched the room, leaving no detail unnoticed. His quest had led him across the Lands of Daranor. He had traveled from his home in Freeton, to a ruined shop in Tealsburg, following the clues that had at last led him to this desolate tavern in Kladden.
There, in the darkest corner of the room, he spied what he was looking for. The man who sat there, if he could be called such in his current state, hunched over in his chair. His unkempt beard could not hide the features that Yonathan knew so well.
“It is time to go,” he said, taking a seat at the table.
“There is nowhere for me to go,” the man replied. “There is nothing that I can do anymore.”
“Kandan,” Yonathan spoke softly. “You were once the most skilled man I knew. What has happened to you?”
“I do not know what you mean,” he replied. “And that name has no more meaning for me.”
Yonathan looked him over, wondering for a second if he had indeed chosen the wrong man. True, this figure before him was nothing more than a shadow of the man who had fought beside him so many years ago. But Yonathan and Kandan had been through terrible things together, the kind of things that burned the memory into one’s brain. There was no mistake.
Yonathan reached out with his powerful left arm, the fabric of Kandan’s cloak folding as Yonathan encountered no resistance where Kandan’s right arm should have been. He grasped Kandan’s shoulder, causing the other to yelp in pain. The rest of the tavern looked up in mild surprise, and then down at their glasses again as they quickly realized that Yonathan was not someone that they wanted to anger.
Kandan’s face betrayed a little of his surprise. “Leave me alone.”
“I can’t,” Yonathan answered. “I can’t leave you alone because we need you.”
“What could you possibly need me for?”
Yonathan leaned in close and whispered something into Kandan’s ear.
Kandan burst out laughing. It was a hollow, mirthless laugh, but still disturbed the atmosphere of the tavern. This was not the kind of place accustomed to laughter.
“Don’t mock me, old friend,” Kandan said after a short pause. “If you found me here then you should know that’s something I can’t do. But even if it was, why should I help you?”
Yonathan was stone serious. It was time to play his trump card, to release the one piece of information that he knew would cause Kandan to follow him. “Because he is not dead. Because he has returned.”
Kandan looked like he was about to reply that he had already heard about Darhyn returning, but then his face changed. Excitement and holy fury gnawed at the edges. “You mean…?”
Yonathan nodded. “Yes my friend. And only by doing this can you ensure that we will make Corizaz pay. There will be no mistake this time.”
Kandan’s expression changed to one of eager delight. Yonathan could see that he had no belongings, so it was fortunate that he had thought to bring an extra horse. Within ten minutes, the pair had taken their leave of the tavern and were galloping away into the night.
BLOOPERS - Not everything went perfectly smoothly during the production of DreamQuest. Although everyone tried their best, it was a year-long epic with a cast of thousands. Here are a few of the more humorous scenes that had to be redone.
After dinner, they lay out in the clearing and watched the stars. “I want to thank you for a wonderful night, Derlin. I will truly remember this night for as long as I live. Yet, I want to ask you something. Why did you go to all this trouble just for me? I have taught you much about my people, but I remain ignorant about your customs. Do you often do this for your friends?”
Derlin waited a moment before replying, letting her words soak in so he could fully appreciate the beauty of her voice. In that moment, crickets began to chirp musically, filling the air with their sweet harmony. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but he had to admit it was a nice touch. It appeared that the Big Guy Upstairs might even be helping him out. “Valena,” he began. “You must understand that you are a very special friend to me. No, I would not do this for just anyone.”
“But why me?” she answered. “It’s not as if I’m…” Derlin put a finger to his lips and pointed skyward. “Watch there,” he whispered.
The stars in the sky glittered in their places for a moment, and then began to change. Some became brighter, some twinkled out of existence, and some began to move. They swirled around and then began to form a shape. It was pointy at the bottom, and soon Valena saw what it would become; Tarthur had made the stars into a heart. Inscribed in the heart were the intertwined names Derlin and Valena. Derlin turned his head towards her and softly but firmly said, “Because I love-.”
“PPBBBTTTTT!” Right at that moment, Valena let out a huge, unprincesslike fart. The crimson rushed to her cheeks, and immediately Derlin felt embarrassed for her. They sat facing each other in an awkward silence.
“I’m s.. sorry,” she stuttered. “It must have been th… the elderberry wine.”
“It’s okay!” he answered quickly, trying to cover the situation. There was no way he could just ignore it and continue. “It’s a… natural thing.”
“Oh,” she said, fanni
ng the area with her hand. “It smells so bad! Let’s go over there.” She finished by pointing back towards the main clearing.
It took several minutes for the smell to finally dissipate. The heart in the stars had already faded. “Now,” she continued, regaining her composure. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“Nevermind.”
CUT!
The knights turned as one man. As Sir Stephen looked into the rising sun, part of the sun was obscured by a black shadow. The shadow walked deliberately, and steadily. As he came closer, Sir Stephen saw the shadow turn gradually into a man. As the man approached the king, Sir Stephen wanted to do something, but a restraining hand on his shoulder checked him. It seemed this man was well known here.
The man walked to the king, steadily and purposefully. But when he was a few meters away, suddenly he tripped on a rock! He shuffled his feet together, trying vainly to stay upright. As a last resort, while falling, he tried to reach inside his tunic for something but it was tied inside and he had no chance. He hit the ground and the sound of shattering glass broke the early morning stillness.
He got to his feet and looked in horror at the vanishing contents of the vial of healing water. If the Creator had given him water, the least he could have done would be to put it in an unbreakable glass!
Trying to salvage the situation as if he meant to trip, Addyean solemnly got to his feet, turned on his heal, walked to his horse, and galloped away in the direction of Treshin. As he was leaving Sir Stephen could barely make out his cry. “That was just a practice. Now, let me go back and get the real healing water.”
Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Page 35