Tarkyn threw himself to the ground and rolled beneath the red streak of light, coming up fast close to his attacker. Before the other sorcerer could change the direction of his shaft, Tarkyn had surrounded himself in a translucent bronze shield. Gasping for breath, he stood within a foot of his opponent, hands on hips, giving what he hoped was an unnerving smile. As soon as he had recovered, he spun himself behind Andoran, his long black hair fanning out behind him, then dropped his shield and threw a shaft of bronze power at his opponent’s back. Andoran ducked. Tarkyn’s bronze beam shot over his opponent’s head and slammed into a rickety spectator stand. A wooden upright gave way with a resounding crack.
Tarkyn watched in horror as, with ponderous grace, the makeshift stand sagged to one side. Dozens of panic-stricken spectators scrambled over each other, swarming onto the arena of the Harvest Tournament, desperate to get clear before the stand collapsed. Immediately, Royal Guards surrounded the prince and his opponent to protect them from the rabble. From within the ring of guards, Tarkyn glanced up at the strong, well-built grandstand where the nobility and the rest of the Royal Family sat, well out of reach of any stray tournament-strength shafts of power.
“I warned them that we should have stronger boundary shields,” he muttered. “It is not right to place people needlessly at risk, no matter how lowly born.” Gradually, the exclamations and shouts died down as the stand stayed stoically, if drunkenly, upright. With a show of bravura, a scruffy young lad with more courage than wisdom, vaulted back onto the stand and seated himself in the front row. On hearing no creaking, a prim lady poked her beau in the ribs to push him up the steps before her.
Then she gathered her skirts and calmly followed him to sit beside the scruffy youth in the best seats the stand had to offer. Seeing that the stand still held firm, the rest of the crowd, first in dribs and drabs, then in a steady flow, remounted the structure to resume their seats. Once the last of them was re-seated, the guards returned to their positions around the stadium and the competitors squared off once more. “Resume!” bellowed the referee.
The two sorcerers circled each other, each protected within his shield. Suddenly Tarkyn’s shield winked out and he stood exposed but safe, as long as Andoran was putting his energy into maintaining his own shield. Andoran was now a step behind in the attack. After feinting right, then left, the red-headed sorcerer threw himself to the left, winked out his shield and thrust a shaft of power at the prince. But Tarkyn anticipated him and as he sidestepped the red attack, drove a shaft of power at Andoran that caught him cleanly in the chest. Andoran yelped with pain, the referee blew his whistle and Tarkyn was declared the winner.
As the prince reached out to haul his opponent up and shake his hand, tumultuous applause erupted from thousands of watching sorcerers. They rushed onto the arena, young and old, rich and poor, eagerly clustering around their victorious prince, but kept at bay by a ring of protective guards. Tarkyn grinned and waved in response, then placed his arm across his worthy opponent’s shoulder to draw him into the congratulations. Andoran mastered his disappointment enough to produce a rueful smile and wave his acknowledgement to the crowd.
Bronze Magic Description:
The Sorcerer’s Oath is the first in a series of novels that track the woodfolk legend of Tarkyn, Guardian of the Forest. In Eskuzor, land of sorcerers, Prince Tarkyn escapes from an unjust arraignment, defying his brother the king and inadvertently leaving a trail of death and destruction behind him. When Tarkyn enters the forests in the company of an old wizard, he finds himself unable to leave but worse still, the unwelcome liege lord of a people who fear sorcerers and have no experience of royalty. The prince, moved by his unwilling liegefolk’s plight, modifies his expectations. On the other hand, one woodman, Waterstone, puts aside his own prejudices to offer Tarkyn his friendship, persevering in the face of the prince’s mistrust.
As Tarkyn works side by side with his liegefolk against bounty hunters, wolves and sorcerers, he not only develops friendships and acceptance but also gains new powers which transform him, in the eyes of the woodfolk, into a figure of their legends, the guardian of the forest. Despite this, their mutual trust is fragile and when Tarkyn discovers that his liegefolk have been concealing the existence of woodfolk who are not sworn to him, he is driven to extreme lengths to repair the rift in the woodfolk nation caused by the sorcerous oath.
It suits 11-80yo+
