Excerpt
The Doe and the Dragon by Andrew
Richardson
Excerpt Heat Level: 0
Book Heat Level: violent
Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com
The Hunting Horn of Venedos died into the distance.
Einion
Yrth's ears strained, but the sound was lost in the breeze and the clomping of
his horse's hooves. "What say you, Majestic, to the notion we escape for a
while?" The prince leaned forward in the saddle and patted the animal's
white flank. "We can have some time to ourselves."
Majestic
snorted a response.
"While
my warriors seek a stag, we can explore the Gwynant Valley. We shall see if
this place is as they say; with faeries and magic and evil around every turn."
Einion eased the horse down a steep slope. He paused to push aside thick
branches and guided Majestic around a jumble of boulders.
The
beechs' autumn-red leaves dappled the sunlight.
At
the River Glaslyn the prince stopped
to pull a silver coin from his saddlebag. He tossed it into the water as they forded,
at a place where the river was shallow and danced over her pebbles with a
playful gurgle.
The
Afon Glaslyn swallowed the gift with barely a ripple.
Einion
gave the ford's god a silent prayer for safe passage. He looked and listened
for any sign of evil.
An
orange stream joined the Afon Glaslyn and Einion looked along her
course. His eyes met the gauge in the earth, created when the Old People had
mined the mountain's flanks for copper that still tinted her water. The ancient
tear in the mountain's flank was deep and dark.
Majestic
whinnied.
Einion
pulled Lightning from her scabbard and kissed the bare iron. His eyes flitted
among the rocks and beeches. The prince gazed at Yr Wyddfa's steep slopes and stilled, his heart pounding his ribs.
"Merlin's
fortress. The citadel seems dead, Majestic. See the way the grass grows in
tufts from the walls. If anyone was living there, they would maintain the
place. You need not be afraid, friend."
The
animal snorted.
"Men
say two dragons dwell in a cave beneath the fortress. They say Merlin freed the
beasts in the days when my father was my age. They say the dragons fought, and
the red dragon defeated the white. The old druid saw their battle as a sign we
would wipe the Saxons from Britain." Einion paused for a bitter laugh. "The
Saxons have driven deeper into the south. It seems the great Merlin was
mistaken."
I
am Einion the Impetuous. I do not fear dragons and magic in this accursed
valley, the prince told himself.
Still,
his knuckles whitened around Lightning's hilt.
"If
there are dragons here, friend, they are hiding well." Einion forced his
weapon back into her scabbard, but almost immediately reined Majestic to a
halt, his heart pounding his ribs.
What
was that? He stilled, but the sound of music eluded him.
"Did
you hear anything, boy?"
Majestic
whinnied.
"I
am sure I heard a noise." Einion slid down from the saddle and gave
Majestic words of comfort as he tied the animal to a tree. "The grass here
is lush. You will have a good meal while I seek out what I heard." He gave
the horse's flank a reassuring pat.
Majestic
swung his head around and whinnied again.
Einion
turned and put a finger to his lips, urging the horse to calm.
Breath
locked in the prince's throat as he heard the sound again; the tune carried to
him on the breeze. He looked into the beeches, trying to peer through their
leaves. He told himself he was hearing a trick of the wind dancing through the
branches.
"No,"
Einion assured his horse as his hand found Lightning's hilt. He crouched behind
a lichen-encrusted rock. "This is a flute I hear, not a joke played by the
valley."
Catching
his breath, Einion emerged from his hiding place. Crouching to avoid detection,
he followed the river's bank downstream.
The
sound reached him again. Melodic, but with an occasional blurred note. As if
a gifted musician has a poor instrument that cannot match his talent. Einion
swallowed. It is the faeries. They are playing enchanting music to entrap
me.
He looked around then back up the valley.
I
could turn around, and no one would ever know.
The Prince of Venedos pulled himself
upright and pushed out his chest.
I
would know. And I will not be afraid of a mere fairie.
He
kissed Lightning's blade and strode toward the sound. His gaze flitted, seeking
out spits and traps among the Gwynant Valley's scattered trees and jumbled
rocks.
The Doe and The Dragon by Andrew Richardson
Reviewed by Carole Ann Moleti
Andrew Richardson
and I have been longstanding critique partners, which should be no surprise to
those of you reading my blogs. Despite our very different styles, and what were
initially very different genres, our authorial personalities seem to mesh,
probably because we both are willing to do some heavy lifting with our writing
muscles and try something different while the other serves as a spotter to be
sure we don't drop a fifty pound barbell on our chest.
We don't love
everything each other writes (his horror stories give me nightmares, and my
childbirth scenes make him queasy and uneasy), but objectivity and tough love
prevail. The Shoot has long been one of my favorite of his erotic shorts (see
why here) and his upcoming release The Doe and The Dragon threatens to unseat
it.
I've seen this novel
from the first draft to the final one, and loved it. If, like me, you have
always been intrigued by Arthurian legend and lore, there is no better place to
begin—before it all began—with Andrew's rendition of how Uther Pendragon, the
man who would father King Arthur, met his mate.
A shade less
bloodcurdling than most of Andrew's supernatural horror novels Andraste’s Blade
and The Wood, this more traditional fantasy has it all—sword and sorcery,
witchcraft, prophecy, gallantry, vengeance, and epic battles all presented with
as much historical accuracy as possible for a time, place, and people swathed
in the cloak of mythology.
Andrew describes The
Doe and The Dragon as a novel which “follows the north Welsh version of sixth
century legends. These stories place national events in a local setting and so
give a distinctive Welsh flavour. […] Other ‘non-Arthurian’ characters
appearing only in the local legends and have been incorporated into this work.
As with any story set in the ‘Arthurian’ period, no matter which sources are
used as an inspiration, part of the writer’s job has been to uncover characters
about whom little is known, and to flesh them out in the way that makes them
real.”
This is a
story full of love, violence, magic, and revenge. It draws you in and makes you
wonder about the time period, but leaves you with good happy ending.
Courtney
Rene for Rogue's Angels
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