Wednesday, July 23, 2014

The Sword and the Sorcerer by John Phythyon Excerpt

The Sword and the Sorcerer by John Phythyon

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?”
“Because I’ve come to tell him his father’s dead.”

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