The Sigil Blade

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by Jeff Wilson


  “You are so like your grandfather,” said Eivendr. “He could have sought the throne himself, but he supported a weaker man instead, in the interest of preserving the peace across Nar Edor.”

  “And you repaid that loyal service with betrayal,” said Edryd. “But you have now a chance at some redemption. Relinquish the throne in favor of your nephew.”

  “Holdrem?” said Eivendr in surprise. Eivendr had two sons, neither of whom were legitimate claimants to the throne. They were misbegotten children born by different mistresses that Eivendr had favored at one time or another, and they were both of them profligate men of privilege who had never seen battle. As these children were widely considered a discredit to Eivendr’s name, it was assumed that they would be passed over as successors, but Eivendr would not have guessed that his only nephew would have been favored by Aisen. It might not have been the choice that Eivendr himself would have made, but Holdrem was unquestionably a strong ally of the king’s household, and had already sided with his effort to take House Edorin’s lands.

  “Don’t imagine that because he spent a term of service in the Sigil Corps, that my nephew would ever be your puppet,” said Eivendr, assuming that this is what Aisen wished for. “He has a strong sense of honor and would never submit to you. Unlike me, he carries no sins which you could use to control him.”

  “We did both serve together in the same company,” said Edryd, “so I know him well. What you say of him is true, and that, more than anything else, recommends him for this purpose.”

  “You consider him to be a friend,” said Eivendr, more clearly grasping things, and yet misapprehending entirely Aisen’s actual intentions. “You believe that you can influence him.”

  “It is because he would not be under influence, neither yours nor mine, that I would choose him,” said Edryd, correcting King Eivendr. “If I were to take control of this country, I would be an even worse ruler than you were. Nar Edor needs a strong king, but it must be one with neither blood nor the stains of betrayal on his hands.”

  Again, Eivendr saw in Aisen’s character, an undefinable combination of human qualities that the king much admired, and had once regarded so jealously, that it had driven him to try to bring down Aisen’s grandfather. It wasn’t a chance for Eivendr to set things right. He would never be able to do that. But Aisen was setting things right for him, and all Eivendr needed to do was to listen and accept what was being asked.

  “You are wrong,” said Eivendr. “You would make the greatest king this country has ever seen.” The king meant these words. The presence exuded by the Blood Prince felt like a tangible thing to King Eivendr, and he was, as he had never once been before in his life, in a state of awe. In that moment, Eivendr felt more strongly than ever that he deserved death at this man’s hands, and almost wished that Aisen would deliver that long delayed justice.

  The vindictive emotions which Aisen had until that moment mainly suppressed throughout the course of the conversation, ceased to exist. It was replaced with a desolate sense of sorrow so strong that Eivendr could feel its influence in the air between them. Edryd stretched an arm across the table and rested it heavily upon his king’s shoulder.

  This affected Eivendr in the way that such personal contact sometimes does. The pressure from the other man’s hand awoke a sense of connection in Eivendr, and as if at the lifting of an unseen barrier, Eivendr’s awareness expanded through the world around them. This sensation felt more an illusion, than anything real, and it was not without precedent, for he had as most people do at one time or another, felt such things before. But what he experienced next, he could find no past familiar ground for. He began to glimpse a vision of the future. He saw Nar Edor laid to waste in a conflict between the nobility on one side, and Aisen and the combined forces of the Sigil Corps and the Ascomanni on the other. This future began with Eivendr’s own death at Aisen’s hand. What followed were wars of conquest, begun first in this country, but soon spreading to other lands.

  “This cannot be my future,” cried Eivendr, tearing himself free from Aisen’s grasp.

  “It isn’t your future,” was Edryd’s pained reply. “It is mine, in a world where you do not have one.”

  “Surely it can be stopped,” said Eivendr. “This must never happen!”

  Edryd’s response was calm and reassuring. “It need never happen,” he answered.

  “I will do everything you have asked,” Eivendr said, in an expression more sincere than any he had ever made in his life.

  “I know that you will,” said Edryd. His words were not expressive of mere faith in his king’s promise, they carried with them such a feeling of immense relief that Eivendr knew something had changed, and it had changed for the better. He desired then to see what he supposed Aisen could see, but he was too afraid to wish to truly do so.

  As Edryd left his king, he felt content and at peace in a way that had eluded him for a long while. On his journey here, he had been tortured with vengeful thoughts and the desire to act on them had been strong. Now, his soul was instead overflowing with gratitude that it had not been necessary to kill this defenseless old man. It felt like stepping out of the darkness and into a warm spring light which began the process of healing some of the scars which had begun to mar his mind.

  For Eivendr’s part, the experience had been no less profound. He felt an ease and freedom in his heart which he had not known in more than twenty years, and awakened within him was a bond of loyalty to this man who had spared him from judgment, which no power in this world would ever break.

  *****

  As a thank you for reading this book, please visit my website at jeffwilsonbooks.com and sign up for my newsletter to be automatically entered into a monthly drawing to win a free signed copy of an alternate art print edition of The Sigil Blade.

  I hope that you had as much fun reading The Sigil Blade as I did writing it. If you enjoyed the book, it would brighten my day if you let me know what you thought by leaving a review.

  Thanks!

  Jeff Wilson

  This story serves as the first of three books in the Archon Sigil Trilogy. This story will be continued in The Sigil Knight, which will follow the stories of Edryd, Eithne, and Aed Seoras, taking place four years after the events in The Sigil Blade.

  For more information on the Archon Sigil Trilogy visit JeffWilsonBooks.com or the Archon Sigil Trilogy Facebook page.

  About the Author

  A writer of science fiction and fantasy novels, Jeff Wilson is the author of the Archon Sigil Trilogy. Jeff fell in love with both fantasy and science fiction at an early age, and inspired by worlds built in the imaginations of others, he began to create worlds of his own. The decision to write about the heroes and demons populating these worlds was slow in coming, but after spending years reworking and refining his ideas, the words demanded expression.

  Encouraged and assisted by a small group of fans, which included his brother, and his younger sister and her husband, Jeff completed work on his first short story, The Blood Prince. He has now also completed work on his first full length novel, The Sigil Blade, and has begun work on the second book in the series, The Sigil Knight.

  Connect with Me

  Visit my website at JeffWilsonBooks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  Facebook: facebook.com/archonsigiltrilogy

  Twitter: @jeffwilsonbooks

  Goodreads author page for Jeff Wilson

  Pronunciation Guide

  Aed Seoras AYD say-OR-uhs

  Aelsian AYL-see-yun

  Aisen EYE-zen

  Áledhuir al-ED-hewr

  Alsegate ayls-GAYT

  An Innis ahn IN-iss

  Aodra AY-oh-druh

  Beodred BAY-oh-dred

  Beonen bay-uh-nen

  Cecht sekt

  Deneg DEN-ehg

  Domiria doh-MIRR-ee-uh

  Edorin eh-DOR-in

  Edryd EHD-ruhd

  Eidstadt EYED-staht

  Ei
thne EYETH-nee

  Eivendr EYE-vin-dur

  Elduryn el-DURE-in

  Esivh Rhol eh-SIV rohl

  Feyd Gerlin fayd GEHR-lin

  Giric Tolvanes GEER-ik tohl-VAYNZ

  Greven GREH-vin

  Hagan HAY-gun

  Herja HERR-juh

  Irial IRR-ee-yul

  Irminsul EER-mihn-sool

  Ivor EYE-vor

  Kedwyn Saivelle KEHD-win SY-vel

  Kyreth Edorin KY-reth eh-DOR-in

  Ledrin LED-rin

  Lineue LIHN-yoo-ay

  Logaeir loh-GAIR

  Ludin Kar LOO-din kar

  Morven Tevair MOR-ven TEH-vair

  Neysim Els NAY-sim els

  Oren OR-in

  Ossia OH-see-uh

  Pedrin Eksar PEH-drin EHK-sar

  Ruach ROO-ahkh

  Sarel Krin SERR-il krin

  Seridor SERR-ih-dor

  Seym - saym

  Sidrin Eildach SID-rin EYEL-dahk

  Ulensorl OO-lin-sorl

  Vannin VAN-in

  Vidreigard VID-reh-gard

  Eithne’s Spiced Chicken Dumplings

  2 Cups of chicken (shreaded into small pieces)

  1 Large White Onion (minced)

  1 Large Leek (minced)

  1 cup of bread crumbs

  2 Large Eggs

  1/4 cup butter

  2 tsp ground cinnamon

  1 tsp nutmeg

  1/2 tsp Ginger

  1/2 tsp clove

  5 Cups of chicken broth or chicken stock

  Add 1/4 cup of butter to a cast iron cooking pot. Add minced leeks and onion and sauté over medium heat until tender. Remove 1/2 of mixture to a bowl, and remove remaining mixture from heat.

  When cool, add the cooked chicken to the bowl with the cooked leeks and onions. Add bread crumbs. Add cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves. Add eggs and combine mixture, incorporating all of the ingredients in this step. Form into dumplings about one inch in diameter. Set aside on a plate.

  Return remaining sautéed leeks and onions to heat. Add the chicken broth. Bring ingredients to a low simmer for approximately 5 minutes and add salt and pepper to taste. Gently ladle the formed dumplings into the pot. Add water or additional chicken broth if needed to ensure the dumplings are covered. Cook for 15 minutes.

  Serve with a robust bread, and your preference of soft cheese. Simple sliced baguettes with bree work well.

  Serves 2 to 4

  Acknowledgements

  I began writing when I was young, strictly for my own personal enjoyment. I continued to write as I grew older to give form and expression to the ideas that roll around inside my head. Inspired by history (especially the kind which is now only poorly remembered) and a need to explore the concepts that fire my imagination, I began to build stories. Considering my creative efforts an intensely personal process, I was selective in sharing it with others.

  And that is where I would still be now if it were not for two very important people.

  The first is my brother, who loves so many of the same things I do, but has more passion and feeling than I could hope to have. Where I could be characterized by restraint, introversion, and at times by a tendency to remain disconnected from others, my brother has the kind of warmth that reaches through walls, encourages friendship, and inspires me to reach for greater things. We have spent thousands of hours together discussing our stories. His influence is found throughout my work, lending a vibrant quality to my writing that it would not otherwise have.

  My little sister, whose enthusiasm and encouragement have ever been sources on which I can rely for motivation when I become discouraged, and confidence when I have felt doubt, is the second. I owe her an incredible debt for all of the things she has done to inspire me to write, improve, and ultimately finish this novel, and I am truly grateful for the incredible passion she has shown for introducing my work to others.

  With their encouragement, I shared this story with an expanding group of interested fans. In doing so, I have been on the receiving end of so much generous assistance that I cannot help but feel inadequate in expressing my appreciation to the many people—including friends, family and sometimes perfect strangers—who have given me advice, feedback, and material support. Deserving of particular mention, major contributions were made by my cousin Staci. Her expert work as the editor on the final draft of this book led to numerous improvements, elevating the quality of the narrative and the flow of the text.

  I thank you for buying a copy of my book, and I am especially grateful to those of you who took the time, in some form or another, to share your impressions of the book. Your support affirms the simple purpose for which I write—expressing thoughts, feelings, and ideas that inspire me, in the hope that they will inspire you in turn.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: An Innis

  Chapter 2: Aed Seoras

  Chapter 3: The Art of a Blade Master

  Chapter 4: Giric Tolvanes

  Chapter 5: Ruach

  Chapter 6: The Blood Prince

  Chapter 7: Logaeir

  Chapter 8: Eithne

  Chapter 9: King of the Ascomanni

  Chapter 10: Into the Dark

  Chapter 11: Irial Rohvarin

  Chapter 12: Focus of the Dark

  Chapter 13: A Captain of the Sigil Corps

  Chapter 14: The Construct Chamber

  Chapter 15: Commander Ledrin

  Chapter 16: Ældisir

  Chapter 17: Feyd Gerlin

  Chapter 18: The Purpose of Power

  Chapter 19: The Rise of the Ascomanni

  Chapter 20: Held in Darkness

  Chapter 21: The Sigil Blade

  Chapter 22: Shaping the Dark

  Chapter 23: The Broken Oath

  Epilogue

  Pronunciation Guide

 

 

 


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