Read The Seer and the Sword Page 27


  ‘What a marvellous young man Landen is, Torina. I still don’t quite understand how you came to know one another.’

  ‘I’ll tell you the story some day, Mamma.’

  ‘How brave the high king is,’ Dreea murmured. ‘To ride into a crowd of soldiers. As far as he knew, they were loyal to Vesputo.’

  ‘Yes. That was brave. It was also very like the king he is.’

  ‘I met with him yesterday, while you were having your reunion with Landen. We decided to make Emid commander of Archeld’s army.’

  ‘Emid! What a perfect decision, Mamma.’

  ‘It’s during adversity that the true men and women show what they’re made of. Emid did. He’s the most trustworthy man in Archeld. Best of all, he trained most of the captains. Everyone respects him. I only hope he agrees – after two dozen years of training boys, commanding men will be a different life.’

  Emid took his seat in the great hall in the castle of Archeld. The polished floor reflected rows of people, festively dressed. Bunches of flowers stood in tall vases. Wreathes hung the length of the long walls.

  Near Emid, Landen sat relaxed, dark curls smoothed. Next to him were the other members of his famous band, cleaned up and turned out till they looked uncomfortable.

  Queen Dreea and King Dahmis sat on thrones at the front of the hall.

  Down the centre of the room walked a young woman in soft green silk, her thick red hair twined with flowers. Tears started in Emid’s eyes. No veil this time, no concealment. His princess was really here, vibrant as ever. As she passed, she smiled at him.

  She knelt before King Dahmis. The king placed a delicate crown on her head. With charming grace, she stood. The high king clasped both her hands in his. His voice carried across the heads of the people. ‘This is a day for restoring what has been lost! Your princess is found!’

  Emid hallooed with all his might, hearing echoes of delight travel the length of the hall. The great room erupted with joyous noise; stamping feet, clapping hands, exhilarated voices. When it died down, King Dahmis spoke again.

  ‘There is another matter before us.’

  Emid heard rustling, as people turned to their neighbours with questioning looks.

  ‘Landen, please come forward,’ the high king rumbled.

  Landen moved with lithe energy from his bench. Everyone stared raptly, as he gripped the high king’s hand.

  ‘Men and women of Archeld, prepare yourselves. I am about to tell you a story!’ The king winked, grinning. People settled into their seats.

  ‘Once upon a time, there was a coastal kingdom. It stood a few days’ journey south of Archeld. The kingdom was small, but rich and very peaceful,’ King Dahmis began.

  Standing by Torina, Landen folded his hands.

  ‘This kingdom was called Bellandra, and its kings and queens kept with them a sacred Sword. Legend said this Sword came to Bellandra from a far island in the deep ocean, an island that could not be found when searched for, but only seen by the pure of heart when they had lost their way.

  ‘Great power rested with the Sword. The power of peace.

  ‘As long as the Sword was kept safe, it was said, the people of Bellandra would also be safe. They put such faith in this that, as generations passed, they forgot to cultivate a vigilant spirit, living instead on tradition alone.

  ‘Nearly ten years ago, the Sword of Bellandra was taken as a spoil of war, when that kingdom was conquered by Kareed of Archeld. It has lain unused ever since.’

  He paused. ‘It has been in my keeping for some time now, recovered by a warrior of Bellandra, a man with the heart for peace.’ The high king pointed to Landen and stopped speaking. He bent behind Dreea’s throne, raising a large, pyramid-shaped box that Emid recognized. He set it down next to Torina.

  ‘Landen,’ the princess said, touching the box. ‘This belongs to you.’ Her voice brimmed with happiness. ‘My mother and I give back Bellandra to you, with apologies and gratitude. Apologies for your suffering, and gratitude that we have come to know you.’

  Landen took her hand, kissing it. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply.

  He knelt reverently beside the pyramid. Slowly, he ran his hands over its contours, while the gathering of people watched, entranced.

  Then with swift strength, Landen broke the locks. The box fell open. He lifted out a sharp and iridescent Sword. Luminous stars sparkled on its shaft, dancing forth to merge in a shimmer of rainbows. Gazing at it, Emid felt love overwhelming his heart, as if all the love he had ever known in his life gathered into a flood.

  The moment spilled waves of harmony, till everyone was smiling. One of Landen’s companions, a hideously scarred man, looked ready to burst into song. Next to him, a huge man buttoned into a tight white shirt glowed like a beacon.

  Torina reached behind the throne, pulling out a beautifully crafted scabbard. She buckled it round Landen’s waist.

  ‘So you can carry it with you,’ she said.

  Landen sheathed the Sword. Signalled by King Dahmis, musicians struck up a lively tune. People rustled towards the doors, talking and laughing.

  Emid made his way towards Torina. She was looking into Landen’s face. She seemed not to see anyone else. As Emid watched them together, he was taken back to the little glade on the forested hill, where two royal children played at archery.

  Perhaps I knew it then. Certainly, I know now. Destiny placed them next to each other.

  ‘What is your future, son of a king?’ he heard Torina say.

  Landen smiled. ‘Ask your crystal, daughter of a queen.’

  She traced his eyebrow with a finger. ‘My crystal never tells me what I can see with my own eyes.’

  Standing nearby, Queen Dreea and High King Dahmis regarded the couple.

  ‘Those two are carved from the same tree,’ the queen said.

  ‘By the same blade,’ the high king answered, and offered her his arm with splendid dignity.

  VICTORIA HANLEY

  A stunning tale of cruelty and courage, set in a compelling other-world.

  Maeve, an unmarked slave girl, has worked all her life in Lord Indol’s bathhouse. At seventeen, she is sold to the terrifying Lord Morlen, and her fight for freedom begins . . .

  Saravelda and Dorjan are gifted students at the Healer’s Keep, where they are learning to harness the powers within them. As Maeve struggles to survive in the harsh pirate land of Sliviia, her fate becomes intertwined with theirs. Can they somehow join together to protect the sources of good in their world, and resist the growing force that threatens them?

  The strength of the Shadow King is growing – he is seeking for souls who will serve him.

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  VICTORIA HANLEY

  Bryn is a humble stonecutter’s daughter, accustomed to being tagged the odd one, the dreamer. She is disturbed by visions of things no one else can see, sneered at because she talks to the wind and the sky. Why then does the village priest think so highly of her?

  A spinning thistledown leads Bryn to her destiny – far from the tiny village where she has spent her first fifteen years. She enters the Temple of the Oracle and discovers that her gifts make her a threat to those who abuse the Temple’s power for their own glory. Bryn must overcome the obstacles they put in her way and struggle to keep the flame of her spirit pure and bright.

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  There have been stories of the ‘little people’ – piskies, fairies, call them what you will – ever since the world began. Whispered rumours are all they amount to, until a twelve-year-old child discovers the truth, hidden away among briars and brambles. The truth is strange and wild – and sometimes deadly.

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  She reached up to turn the brass door handle of the second-class carriage, and felt that this time she would succeed, that the sunshine train would take her away from all that was hateful and bring her safely home, at last, to her friends.

  The year is 1915, Britain is at war, and life for Celandine has become unbearable.

  Bullied at boarding school where she is accused of being a witch, and haunted by the loss of her brother, Celandine runs away to a place known only to her: the secret world of the little people.

  But her existence among the Various is no less dangerous than the one she has left behind, for the little people are also at war, and Celandine is in the line of fire . . .

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  Victoria Hanley, The Seer and the Sword

 


 

 
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