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    A Kingly Sword
    A Kingly Sword
    A Kingly Sword
    Ebook41 pages39 minutes

    A Kingly Sword

    By Noor Al-Shanti

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The drums had stopped. Now only screams and sobs could be heard over the sounds of destruction. The city had been built to withstand attack, but nothing could withstand the wrath of the shape-shifters.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNoor Al-Shanti
    Release dateDec 18, 2018
    ISBN9780995264625
    A Kingly Sword

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      Book preview

      A Kingly Sword - Noor Al-Shanti

      A Kingly Sword

      BY

      Noor Al-Shanti

      Copyright © Noor Al-Shanti 2016

      ISBN 978-0-9952646-2-5

      Cover by: Bayan Al-Shanti

      All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted without prior permission of the author.

      The drums had stopped. Now only screams and sobs could be heard over the sounds of destruction. The city had been built to withstand attack, but nothing could withstand the wrath of the shape-shifters. Tyree jumped back to avoid a falling rock twice the size of her head. She watched it collide with the stone steps and roll down, leaving a path of destruction in its wake.

      Cailean! she called, Taggart!

      An echoing silence fell across the battlefield that had been her home. She ran down the crumpled stairs, past bloodstains and bodies. Tyree wound her way between desperate magicians and fire and ash. Healers all around were trying to work their spells against the chaos and the pain. Father! She heard a small voice say. Father… Ailish… Tyree had five brothers - all of them unarmed. Her own father was somewhere out there in this madness. But she could not ignore the tiny, frightened voice.

      Shhhh… she stooped and picked up the little boy, mumbling nonsense as she went. He wore a fine tunic, a lord's son. Was Ailish a sister then, or a servant? Would he grow up to laugh at young men like her brother Beagan when they tried to join the King's Guard?

      Will you grow to tell my little Taggart that he cannot take a sword with him when he travels the wilderness because he is not of noble blood? Tyree had not meant to say it aloud, but the little boy looked up at her, eyes wide and confused. Afraid.

      Greer! she called, as she neared the blacksmith's shop. What used to be the blacksmith's shop – it was unrecognizable now. It was a mass of rock and dust and fire, the beautiful carvings and the large windows and pillars all gone. When the smoke of battle settled no one looking at it would be able to tell that human hands had once carved this stone painstakingly into one of the most beautiful buildings in the city.

      Run, Alistair, run! she heard. Her head whipped around and, sure enough, a large ball of flame was headed their way. A young man was struggling to get his injured grandfather out from under the rubble. They would both be killed.

      Tyree ran as fast as her legs could carry her and thrust the child into the boy's arms. She closed her eyes, the vibrations of the battle shaking her bones. She let the chaos and urgency feed her power and began to sing, moving aside crumbling rock as she spoke. A clear pool swam before her eyes. Green danced among the flame and blood and death. Her body was moving unconsciously, as if to dance.

      Tyree closed her eyes, letting the image overwhelm her for a single moment. When she opened them again the old man and the two boys were gone. She leapt aside, but the fire caught at her skirt.

      Uisce! she heard from behind her.

      A

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