A Stone Of Destiny and Despair by A.P Beswick EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: A.P Beswick
- Language: English
- Genre: Arthurian Fantasy
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Laith
King Athos Almerion is dead, Levanthria is in turmoil as the King
had no heir to ascend the throne. This is unprecedented as the King
also had no siblings, his bloodline effectively ending with him.”
L to the court of Byron, Coratious Vex, 255 KR
“C , !” I call back to Jordell who trails behind,
the steep hills of Pendara proving a difficult obstacle for my resolute friend.
“Less of the old man,” Jordell calls back. “In my day if I spoke to
someone like that, I would have received a whack to the back of my head.”
His face reads like a map, wrinkled and worn. His robe trails across
scorched grass on the hills, a sign that this region is in the midst of a
drought.
The sun is relentless. Heat enters my lungs as I breathe, making the hike
up this hill more uncomfortable than I would have liked. Sweat beads on
my head and my tunic is sodden. Given that I have been unable to bathe for
well past a week now, I fear that my smell has become unfavourable.
“How much farther must we hike in this heat?” I ask, stopping to let
Jordell regain some ground on me.
It takes him a few moments, but the man is determined. “We should be
near. I have not visited this house for many years,” Jordell says. He stops
beside me to gather his breath, sweat pooling under his darkened eyes. His
chest rattles as he wheezes.
“We need to rest,” I tell him. “That chest of yours is getting worse.”
Maybe when we reach our destination, he will for once heed my words. It
has been a long journey across Levanthria, since our return from foreign
lands. We had to travel slowly, without drawing attention to ourselves.
Afterall, Morgana has put a high bounty on our heads alongside Vireo,
apparent on the notices we have seen scattered across these lands.
“Nonsense, boy. There is still daylight. We can rest when we reach the
Redfearn house.” He smiles before setting off once more. “Although this
would be an easier journey had you not lost our horses.”
“I told you that wasn’t my fault! I swear I tied them properly. Someone
took them, I’m sure of it,” I protest, but I know my words fall on deaf ears.
I have no idea where Jordell gets his energy from. He is relentless in his
pursuit of learning about the artefact that has us traipsing through the
countryside: a sword
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