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    The Warrior and The Holy Man
    The Warrior and The Holy Man
    The Warrior and The Holy Man
    Ebook74 pages1 hour

    The Warrior and The Holy Man

    By Kyra Halland

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    About this ebook

    The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow: When ill fortune strikes Haveshi's clan, the remedy is heartbreaking for the young wife and mother. Guided by the Yellowcrow, god of the forsaken, she sets out on a path to regain what she lost.

    The Path of Latan the Clerk: Latan, a lowly clerk in service to the magical Source Tiati, has discovered a historical document of great importance, and is summoned to present his findings to the high priest of the Empire. Accompanied by the warrior named Haveshi Yellowcrow, he embarks on the journey of a lifetime and finds unexpected danger and self-discovery.

    Two fantasy stories set in the world of Chosen of Azara.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKyra Halland
    Release dateDec 17, 2013
    ISBN9781507026885
    The Warrior and The Holy Man
    Author

    Kyra Halland

    Kyra Halland has always loved fantasy. She has also always loved a good love story. She combines those two loves by writing the kinds of romantic fantasy novels she loves to read, tales of magical worlds where complicated, honorable heroes and strong, smart, feminine heroines work together to save their world - or their own small corner of it - and each other. Kyra Halland lives in southern Arizona. She's a wife, mom and mom-in-law, proud grandma, and devoted servant to three cats.

    Read more from Kyra Halland

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      Book preview

      The Warrior and The Holy Man - Kyra Halland

      THE WARRIOR AND THE HOLY MAN

      Two Tales of Tehovir

      by Kyra Halland

      Copyright 2013 Kyra Halland

      All Rights Reserved

      Cover art by Mominur Rahman

      For release news, special offers, free stories, exclusive sneak peeks, and more, sign up for my email newsletter, and get a free copy of Tales of the Source-Breakers as a thank you gift!

      https://www.kyrahalland.com/email-signup.html

      Haveshi, a young wife and mother betrayed by her clan, sets out on a path to regain what she has lost. Latan, a lowly clerk in a magical order, finds himself on a path of unexpected danger and self-discovery, guided by the warrior named Haveshi Yellowcrow.

      Table of Contents

      THE WARRIOR AND THE HOLY MAN

      The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow

      The Path of Latan the Clerk

      More Tales of Fantasy, Heroism, and Romance

      About the Author

      The Path of Haveshi Yellowcrow

      HAVESHI TALLROCK FINISHED braiding her newly-washed hair and put on her painted leather tunic and leggings, which she saved for only the greatest occasions. Looking into the surface of a shiny copper plate, she dipped a finger into a small pot containing red pigment mixed with honeybee-wax and dabbed the coloring onto her lips, then took a stick of black pigment and outlined her eyes.

      She squatted before her young son Bebir, who had sat playing with his toy stick-horse while she got ready. He squirmed as she washed his face with the leftover water from her own bathing and tied his hair in a topknot. Then she cleaned her infant daughter Leshi’s face and smoothed her downy black hair with a damp fingertip. It had been many years since a shaman of the New Moon clan had summoned Keeaura Mountain Lion, the beast-god of the Lataairi tribe, and she wished to honor the god and the occasion by making sure her family looked their best. Or, at least, the members of her family whose faces she could wash.

      You’re taking too long, Tirn grumbled at her from the tent flap. They’re assembling. We’re going to be late, and that will make Keeaura angry.

      Haveshi tucked Leshi’s swaddling neatly around the baby and straightened Bebir’s little leather kilt. We’re ready, she said to her husband. Have you washed?

      There’s no time for that. Come on.

      Tirn stalked out the door. With Bebir’s hand gripped firmly in hers, and Leshi in her other arm, Haveshi followed him to where the members of the New Moon clan stood in a circle around the center of the encampment. The circle was three or four rows deep with a gap at the north point for Keeaura Mountain Lion to enter through. Tirn found a good spot in the innermost row, closest to the clearing in the center, and Haveshi soon caught up with him.

      You always look handsome, and you are clean enough, she whispered to him.

      Hush, he hissed back at her. But a smile teased at the corner of his mouth. He liked it when she told him he was handsome.

      Not everyone had taken the same care with their appearance that Haveshi had. Everyone paid honor to the gods in their own way. For her, showing respect for the gods meant being clean and dressed in her best clothing. For someone else, it might mean hoeing in the vegetable patches until the last moment and then coming to the gathering with dirt on her hands and clothes, to honor the god with her hard work. And that was well. If all people were supposed to honor the gods in the same way, then the Father and the Mother and the Maker would have created all people the same.

      The First Shaman, a man older than anyone else in the clan, stepped into the center of the circle. He could have had no more than eight or ten hairs but he wore those few white hairs, braided into a topknot, just as proudly as any young man with a full head of dark hair. His voice was high and wavering and cracked, but he sang out loudly, summoning the Mountain Lion.

      In recent months, discontent and indolence had descended upon the New Moon clan. Women gossiped and complained as crops went unweeded, meals uncooked, and children untended, and men grew sullen and jealous, even to the point of fatal arguments breaking out while they were hunting. After many failed attempts to discover the source of the trouble, it was the hope of the shaman and the clan elders that the god would show them what must be done to restore peace to the clan. Thus, this morning’s attempt to summon Keeaura Mountain Lion.

      The morning sun grew higher and hotter as the shaman sang. Nervous glances and murmurs were exchanged among the members of the clan; summoning a beast-god was a dangerous business. There was a story that the god of the Bataranisho tribe, a huge female ground-dragon, had once burnt twelve shamans to cinders for summoning her merely to see the size of her eggs. Haveshi wasn’t sure she believed that story – to see the size of a ground-dragon’s eggs, all one had to do was find her nest and look, and the god’s eggs would simply be twice that size – but she still held her breath with everyone else, waiting for Keeaura to arrive.

      Finally, a great red-gold mountain lion appeared in the gap at the north point of the circle. Haveshi gasped in awe and admiration, as did the rest of the clan members. Keeaura was twice as large as any other mountain lion, and the reddish cast to his pelt glowed like flames in the sun. As the beast-god entered the circle, the shaman continued singing, imploring him to grant wisdom as to the source of the trouble and what was to be done about it.

      The mountain lion padded on huge paws

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