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He wanted his father's love. What he got instead will change the world.
Gothemus Draco - world's most powerful sorcerer - is dead. Locked away in his tower are the tools for total domination of every city-state in the Known World. The person who possesses them can become a king, and everyone, it seems, has a claim - his warlord brother, the fairy from whom he stole a powerful artifact, even the sorceress who murdered him.
But the man who shaped the balance of power through wizardry isn't done playing games with world politics. Just because Gothemus is dead doesn't mean he doesn't still have plans. Against all understanding, his magic lives on after his demise, preventing anyone from breaking into the tower.
Meanwhile, he's left a gift for his son Calibot - Wyrmblade. The legendary dragon sword makes its wielder nearly invincible, and Gothemus has enchanted it with all sorts of new abilities.
But Calibot wants nothing to do with Wyrmblade or his father. He's a poet with a powerful patron, and he's been estranged from his father for years. All he desires is a peaceful life of composing verse and to one day marry the man he loves - a former soldier and advisor to the duke.
He may have no choice, though. Gothemus decreed Calibot should retrieve his body and lay him to rest. All signs point to a mysterious destiny Gothemus designed that Calibot cannot avoid.
With only the aid of his true love and his father's inept apprentice, Calibot must leave the safety of his life at court and venture to the stronghold of those who murdered Gothemus, retrieve the body, and return it to his tower. Everyone with a stake in the future of the Known World will try to stop him, and Calibot must take care he doesn't lose his life . . . or his soul!
The Sword and the Sorcerer is a full-length fantasy novel by the author of the Wolf Dasher series. Set against a backdrop of magic and dragons, of betrayal and greed, it is a story of one man's journey to lay his father - and his inner demons - to rest.
One dollar from the sale of this Kindle book will benefit Freedom to Marry, the campaign to win marriage equality rights nationwide.
The Sword and the
Sorcerer by John R. Phythyon, Jr. –
Excerpt
Calibot smiled. Every poet composed to
be heard, to be remembered, and, most especially, to be praised. But
no one’s approval mattered more the people he loved. He inhaled
deeply and drank in the scent of Devon’s cologne, the smooth feel
of his skin, and the strength of his embrace. He closed his eyes and
felt the first gentle pulls of sleep take hold of his mind.
“I love you,” Calibot whispered.
Devon tightened his embrace in
response. Calibot’s mind relaxed, and he knew it wouldn’t be long
before he fell fast asleep on the satin sheets.
But he didn’t get the chance. A loud
knock at the door brought him instantly back awake. He turned to
Devon, who was already giving him a quizzical look.
“Were you expecting someone,” Devon
asked.
“No,” Calibot replied.
The knock came again. It was more
insistent this time.
Devon disentangled himself from Calibot
and slipped out of bed. He threw on a robe but didn’t get a chance
to close it before there was a loud pop and a woman in a green dress
and blue traveling cloak materialized in front of them looking very
surprised.
Calibot sat up, astonished and afraid.
Devon whirled and went to his sword, snatching it out of its sheath
and then putting himself between the woman and Calibot while striking
a defensive pose.
The newcomer wore a pack on her back
and had a large sack slung over her shoulder. Her expression of
surprise changed to confusion.
“Now how did that happen?” she said
aloud. “I was just trying to look through the door to see if anyone
was home.”
She leaned on a staff and appeared to
think about whatever had gone wrong. Thick, curly, blond hair hung
from her head, looking like it hadn’t been combed in a month or so.
It framed a plain face that looked ridiculous, screwed up as it was,
in concentration. Calibot estimated she couldn’t be much more than
nineteen or twenty and figured she must be poor. He had never seen a
courtier without makeup.
“Oh, hello,” she said, when she
finally noticed Devon. The facts that his robe was open and he was
holding a sword as though he meant to behead her didn’t faze her.
“Are you Calibot Draco?”
“I am not,” Devon said. “Who are
you?”
“Oh, damn,” she said, continuing to
take no notice of anything, including the threat in Devon’s tone.
“This was supposed to be his room.”
She set down the sack, which clearly
had something large and rectangular in it, and slipped the pack off
her shoulders. This she rummaged through until she pulled out a piece
of paper and began examining it. From his vantage point on the bed,
Calibot could see it was some sort of map.
“No, this should definitely be his
room,” she said. She returned her attention, such as it was, to
Devon. “Are you sure you’re not Calibot Draco?”
“I am quite sure,” he said. “I am
also quite sure I don’t know who you are, and I will hurt you if
you don’t tell me.”
She studied him for a second. Her eyes
fell briefly on the sword and then returned to him.
“You’re naked,” she said.
Devon blushed despite himself. He
lowered his sword and closed his robe, tying it shut hastily. He
tried not to look awkward and failed miserably.
“Who are you?” he said again, but
the dangerous tone was completely gone from his voice.
“I’m Liliana Gray,” she answered,
“and I’m looking for Calibot Draco. Do you know where I can find
him?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve come to tell him his
father’s dead.”
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