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    The Green Orb of Boltonia
    The Green Orb of Boltonia
    The Green Orb of Boltonia
    Ebook84 pages1 hour

    The Green Orb of Boltonia

    By Lisa A. Biczi

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    About this ebook

    The Green Orb of Boltonia is a powerful life force that many desire to control. When it is stolen, many quest to claim it for their own. But one woman, the powerful, beautiful, and cunning Lady Astarta, is prophesied to restore the Orb to its rightful place. Astarta, a beautiful halfling Merlinian, and the ruthless, powerful General Barsabbas are equally matched in the arenas of politics, warand love.

    When Barsabbas steals the Green Orb so he can use its immense power to snatch her throne, Astarta, with the help of friends and allies, is there to avert his plans. The price of this treason is their love, but before everything falls victim to conflict, their union gives birth to Auberon, the future king of Boltonia.

    An epic battle awaits on the fields of Boltonia. Can Astarta defend her throneand her heartfrom those who would overthrow her? Which of these ambitious and passionate combatantsonce lovers and allieswill win the battle for control of the Green Orb of Boltonia?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisheriUniverse
    Release dateSep 4, 2012
    ISBN9781475941104
    The Green Orb of Boltonia
    Author

    Lisa A. Biczi

    Author Lisa A. Biczi has degrees in paralegal studies and business and works as a paralegal. In 1996, she earned the distinction of being the first fiction writer for the International Lighthouse Magazine. She lives in East Brunswick, New Jersey.

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      Book preview

      The Green Orb of Boltonia - Lisa A. Biczi

      Chapter 1

      The Waiting

      The green ivy grew up the outside wall of the small one-room cottage. It reached up onto the brown, dry thatched roof, where it tried to touch the last of the fall day’s warm sun. A gentle breeze blew sand past the ivy and moved it slightly. The cottage sat lonesome in the dusty, dead valley. The grass around the cottage was lush and green. The leaves of a large, old oak tree that were once green slowly turned red as fall progressed. The smoke from the chimney seemed to call out for someone or something to notice the cottage from afar.

      Inside the cottage, near a fireplace sat an old cotter, an old halfling creature from an Elfin mother and a human father. He had studied the old way of Merlin and was the greatest Merlinian in Boltonia. The glow of the firelight shimmered on a still face, which held the evidence of war in its cracks. He was missing his left eye, and his gray hair grew past his shoulders and was tucked behind his thin, pointed ears. His clothes, once of the finest silk, were tattered and musty. Still, this old cotter was neither neglected nor forgotten.

      His furniture was worn by time and dried by the air yet still was comfortable and familiar and scattered around the room. A blanket of wool that had once been owned by the king now was moth-eaten. It lay neatly on the bed. The bed stood lonely and majestic in a corner distant from the other pieces of furniture. On the round table in center of the room was a small bowl of green apples piled high and a pitcher of sweet mead. His small feast was set for the guest for whom he waited.

      His wait dragged on for days and nights. Still, he sat alone. Daily chores that passed the time would not make the time pass fast enough. It was time to bless the hearth. He grabbed the timeless broom that stood next to the fireplace, a cord, and a three-wick candle made especially for him by the elves of his homeland. It was stained with soot. He lit the wicks of the candle with an unsteady hand while chanting:

      I bring this home, I bring love to this home, and I bring honor to this home.

      He tied a knot in the cord and then tied the cord to the broom. He swept the scanty cottage free of all its negative energies and feelings. Again he chanted.

      All that is evil is now swept away, and nothing but good shall come this way.

      He could cleanse the hearth many times while he waited, but it would never cleanse the evil that would arrive.

      He sat at the table to rest for a time after the cleansing. He watched the sun fall behind the White Mountains. The evening skies shone a dazzling array of pinks, reds, and violets. He became weary.

      Suddenly, he sat up and strained as if he heard something. He smiled as soon as the sound became audible. It was the sound of charging horses headed toward the tiny cottage. He sat still for a moment, not out of fear but to prepare himself for his important guest. He heard them outside his door and moved only to pour two goblets of mead for him and his guest.

      The door swung open and a tall, dark figure stood in the doorway.

      Come in. I’ve been expecting you, Barsabbas, the old cotter said without raising his head.

      Barsabbas entered the cottage, his long emerald cloak dragging behind him. He was another halfling of a human mother and a giant father from the Forest of Shadows. His steps made slow, heavy thumps on the wooden floor. The firelight showed his face; it too had seen its share of battles and was weary. Barsabbas was tall and dark, but he had the brightest blue eyes.

      Emer, you old goat, I expected a better domicile. These are such humble means for such a great—

      Don’t say it, Barsabbas, Emer interrupted. I’m no longer anyone’s magikian.

      I’m not here to debate with you, old Elf. I’m here for your granddaughter.

      She is not here, as you can see, the cotter answered quickly.

      You know where she is. My men reported that she was living here with you, learning your ways.

      Your men are mistaken. I haven’t seen Astarta in years, and teaching that child anything would be a feat of magik even I could not perform, Emer lied. He pushed the mead in front of Barsabbas and offered him a seat.

      Old elf, if I didn’t fear you as I do, I would cut out your tongue and fry it up for dinner.

      The fear is only in your mind, Barsabbas. You know I can see inside you. I always could. I’m no one you should fear. We have been through much in these past years. Besides, I may be old, but I would have fought hard for my tongue before giving it up to the likes of you. He gave a good, hearty chuckle.

      Emer, your granddaughter took something that belongs to me. I need to know where she is, Barsabbas demanded as he slammed his closed fist on the table, spilling some of the mead from the goblets.

      "The Green Orb was never yours. You stole it from the Elders, and this is what all this destruction and devastation is all about. We were warned about this. You

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