by Nova Rose
Legends Lost
Tesnayr
By Nova Rose
~~~
Copyright © 2012 Nova Rose
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents wither are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Table of Contents
Legends Lost
Other Books by Nova Rose
BOOK ONE
Prologue
#1: Chapter I
#1: Chapter II
#1: Chapter III
#1: Chapter IV
#1: Chapter V
#1: Chapter VI
#1: Chapter VII
#1: Chapter VIII
#1: Chapter IX
#1: Chapter X
#1: Chapter XI
#1: Chapter XII
#1: Chapter XIII
BOOK TWO
#2: Chapter I
#2: Chapter II
#2: Chapter III
#2: Chapter IV
#2: Chapter V
#2: Chapter VI
#2: Chapter VII
#2: Chapter VIII
#2: Chapter IX
#2: Chapter X
#2: Chapter XI
#2: Chapter XII
#2: Chapter XIII
#2: Chapter XIV
BOOK THREE
#3: Chapter I
#3: Chapter II
#3: Chapter III
#3: Chapter IV
#3: Chapter V
#3: Chapter VI
#3: Chapter VII
#3: Chapter VIII
#3: Chapter IX
#3: Chapter X
#3: Chapter XI
#3: Chapter XII
#3: Chapter XIII
#3: Chapter XIV
#3: Chapter XV
#3: Chapter XVI
#3: Chapter XVII
Epilogue
Glossary
Coming 2013:
About the Author
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Other young adult fiction by this writer under Janet McNulty
Other Books by Nova Rose
Legends Lost Amborese
—For my mother who let me bounce ideas off of her.
Book One
A Broken Man
A stranger comes from across the sea
Questions abound: Who is he?
None know and he refuses to tell
his story. He is a broken man.
He is a broken man.
His soul shattered and torn.
He knows not where to turn
for the ache in his spirit.
This man has seen much suffering.
His eyes tell you so.
His face is that of one used to war;
of one used to sorrow and death.
He is a man of few words.
He toils to make a new life for himself,
but everywhere he turns
the horrors of his past return.
War comes in the form of conquest.
The man’s new life is ripped from him
as he witnesses the death of one he loves.
So he cries in angst at a past that won’t grant release.
Fists clenched, he faces his horrors.
He casts aside his new life
and dons the one he’s meant to live.
Sword in hand, he confronts his past, his destiny.
A broken man he may have been
walking a long and lonely road.
His path is hard and full of despair.
Come what may; he will venture it until the end.
Prologue
“Blynak, you never told me that you were going to kill him,” yelled Jarown. He grabbed Blynak roughly by the arm and yanked him to a stop. “Selnik is my friend. I can easily get the information from him. You promised me that no one would get hurt.”
The aroma of heated steel from the blacksmith’s furnace floated in the air. Nothing had gone according plan. If only Jarown had not become jealous he never would have told Blynak that Selnik was captain of the guard and possessed useful information. Used by greed. He felt Blynak’s steely eyes upon him.
“And no one will be if Selnik cooperates,” replied Blynak.
Suspicion clouded Jarown’s transparent face. Blynak had broken his word once. What was to stop him from doing it again? “But taking his wife and child prisoner! How—.”
“Dare I?” said Blynak coldly. He had met many like Jarown. Disgruntled servants of the king. Easily obtained and easily disposed of. “You came to me. You betrayed your own people, your own friend. And you question me? Perhaps your judgment is clouded by your feelings for his wife. You have been most helpful, Jarown, but I think your usefulness has ended.” At a wave of his hand two of Blynak’s men pinned Jarown’s arms behind him.
“You will regret this, Blynak,” exclaimed Jarown, struggling to break free.
“I think not,” replied Blynak. “Kill him.”
Jarown stumbled as the men pushed him through the encampment. The clinking and grinding of metal filled his ears as soldiers sharpened their swords, repaired their armor, and polished their shields. An enlightening fog settled upon his mind. As they prepared for war, Jarown’s heart sank. Blynak had never intended to keep his word. He had been a tool.
When they reached a secluded area, Jarown was thrown to the ground. He acted quickly. He flung himself into the stomach of one man slamming him into a tree. He grabbed the blade of the other’s sword, bashing him in the face with the hilt. Afterward, he sliced the other’s side. He searched the bodies for weapons he could use finding a sword and a dagger. He wrapped the cloak of one around himself as camouflage.
To reach Selnik, Jarown needed a horse, but they were at the other end of the camp. Jarown crept through the outer edge of the encampment with his head down. His heart stopped. Blynak walked toward him with his two most trusted men. Quickly, Jarown ducked between two soldiers gathered around a fire pretending to warm his hands. The soldiers ignored him. He kept his face down. Once Blynak passed, Jarown stood up naturally so as not to attract attention. Spotting a sack of barley, an idea struck him. He picked it up. The mundane sack allowed him to easily blend in as a stable hand. He hunched his shoulders and stooped low like most of the peons.
Jarown cursed when he saw the guard by the horse pen. There never used to be one stationed there. He wanted to avoid killing him as another body would attract attention. Men’s voices passed by him. Strengthening his grip on the sack, Jarown approached the guard devising a plan. “I am to feed the horses,” he said meekly, eyes on the ground.
“I am to let no one pass,” replied the guard.
“I have my orders, sir.”
The guard took a closer look at Jarown, his eyebrows scrunched. “Remain here.” He went to another guard several yards away.
While they talked, Jarown seized his moment. The bag of barley thudded in the dirt as he dumped it. The horses flapped their tales and whinnied as Jarown hastily cut one loose. He sped off through the trees followed by clouds of red dust.
Jarown tore through the remaining forest. Branches snagged his cloak in an attempt to stop him. The sting of the wind caused his eyes to water, but he refused to slow down. There was little time. The forest gave way to a valley. The freshness of the air invigorated him to press on even harder.
Smoke filled Jarown’s nostrils as he approached Selnik’s home. The instant he spotted the men dragging Selnik’s wife from the cottage, there was no doubt in his mind. He was too la
te. One last scream pierced the air as one of her attackers drew his sword and plunged it into her chest.
Jarown pushed his horse harder. Madness ensued as Selnik ran to his wife in a violent rage. He embraced her lifeless body as her attackers advanced. Selnik snatched the blade of one’s sword and ripped it from the man’s hands. The stunned man doubled over as Selnik jabbed him in the stomach. The remaining four surrounded Selnik. One attacked. Selnik blocked allowing himself to be distracted. The second grabbed him around the neck while a third wrenched his arms behind his back. Selnik struggled forcefully throwing one of the men to the ground. His body went limp as the other two stabbed him in the stomach. Laughter fill the atmosphere as Selnik fell to the ground motionless.
Blynak’s men looked up calmly as Jarown galloped toward them and pulled his horse to a halt. “Jarown,” said one, “You needn’t be here.” The man casually moved toward Jarown wiping the blood off of his sword. “Blynak knows he can trust us. Why has he sent you?”
Jarown glanced at the two bodies. Fury engulfed him. The gravel crunched under Jarown’s boots as he unsheathed his sword, and lopped off the guy’s head. The others watched the head roll across the ground in silence. They looked up at Jarown. His steely expression told them that he was there for his own purpose. Cautiously, they drew near. Jarown stood ready for their attack. One charged him. Jarown sidestepped and swung his sword at the second man. The first man attacked again. Jarown turned in time to block but not before being knocked off his feet. He rolled across the ground to avoid their blows, losing his sword in the process. Panting, he considered his options. He snatched a rock and smashed it in the face of one. Afterward, he dove for his sword, snatched it, swept the feet of another before impaling him. Jarown fought wildly until he had killed them all. He only paused in his fight when he was satisfied they were all dead.
Jarown’s victory left a hollow feeling in his gut as he nudged one of the bodies with the toe of his boot. He poked another with his blood stained sword. Jarown carefully checked each corpse making certain they were dead until he noticed Selnik. Emotions slashed his soul as he remembered why this had happened. He ran to his friend. Selnik still breathed, but each breath was shorter than the first. Jarown cradled the man in his arms and leaned close to speak to him. “Selnik,” he whispered, “Forgive me. I did not mean—” An unwanted sob choked off his words.
“Nelyn,” coughed Selnik, “Promise me you will look after her. Take care of her, Jarown.” Selnik breathed his last.
A loud crash burst from the cabin. Warily, Jarown approached. He entered the bungalow and saw that a struggle had taken place minutes before. He walked among the scattered bowls and utensils being careful not to make a sound. A tiny cough vibrated the air. He turned abruptly and discovered a small, blonde haired girl crouched in a corner. She hugged her knees as she looked up at him with frightened eyes. “Where is mummy?” she asked meekly.
Jarown stared down at her impassively. “Your mother is dead,” he told her. “You will come with me.”
Instead of crying, the girl held her arms toward him. He stood there uncertain of what to do, having never handled children. His mind raced between comforting her and remaining rigid. Awkwardly, Jarown scooped her up and carried her into the daylight. He placed the girl in the saddle. “Stay,” he told her.
He then walked over to the woman’s body, gently lifted her, and carried her over to Selnik placing her at his side. He set dried brush tenderly around the bodies in the shape of a pyre. His emotions tickled the back of his throat when he lit the torch. Thick, black smoke burst from the licking flames as the pyre burned. A lone tear escaped his eyes.
The girl watched in silence, her cheeks glistened in the sunlight. She never whimpered. Jarown approached the horse and gazed at her for a moment admiring her strength. He had failed to save his friend, a failure that would haunt him the rest of his life. But there was one thing he could do. He could care for Selnik’s child. He rode away with her determined to abide by the wish of his deceased friend.
Fifteen years later…