An Oath of the Blood

As you should know by now, Beck Atlan, it’s not all about brawn. It’s about anticipating your opponent’s next move, and I read yours easily in your eyes. It seems you fell for my little feint,” she said, holding her left side in exaggeration.

Wearing black leather trousers, short jacket, fitted corset and leather arm pads, Beck decided she looked exactly like the warrior princess she was meant to be. He always thought her an extraordinary blend of brute strength and subtle femininity and that belief was more in evidence today than ever. Her mastery in sword fighting, near blademaster rank, and her innate ability to anticipate the moves of much larger adversaries, made her a lethal fighter. She was also one of his best friends.

Beck sucked in his breath guiltily and held it. After a long moment, she smiled, amused, and gestured with her head for him to ride beside her. He let out his breath slowly, wondering where this sudden admiration of his friend’s physical appearance was coming from. As he considered the uncertainty of these new and stirring feelings, he was without a doubt very certain about one thing. If Kiernan knew, she would bash his skull in.

Mistress Halloran, the rotund innkeeper of the Unicorn’s Tail, hurried out into the bright afternoon carrying a plate of pastries. She nodded a greeting as soon as she noticed them and shouted up to him, “Did you win, my boy?” Heat flaring in his cheeks, he shook his head curtly.

She continued her rant as if she didn’t hear his response, which was probably the case. “It’s worse for me on two fronts. As a shifter, I can’t leave the boundaries of Pyraan, and as a female, I’m barred from joining the Northwatch Legion. It’s so unfair! I should be going with you. I’m better with the sword than just about any male in this entire land.” She made the declaration without even a hint of boast in her tone. She was simply stating fact.

The air shimmered and the mouse transformed into a willowy but strapping young Elf with violet eyes and long, silver hair. Airron Falewir’s perfect features were screwed up in mirth as he pointed, howling at Rogan.

It would be incredible to live in a world where people didn’t blame shifters for all of life’s evils, Beck thought. It was something they all longed for.

Kiernan, on the other hand, was the cherished daughter of Maximus Everard, a leader of people and ruler of a kingdom. He was the King of Men. By his own law, King Maximus had no choice but to send his daughter to exile when she was twelve years old and her shifting was exposed.

Kiernan’s snow-white Draca Cat moved silently to his side and gave him a nudge that almost sent him to the ground for a fifth time. Smiling, he reached out to pet the massive Draca whose head came up to his chest. Extremely intelligent and fierce fighters, the cats were said to have been used in battle by the Mages of long ago.

One more thing, Heath,” he said. “You might not be aware of this living outside of Parsis so allow me explain. It is considered a grave insult to call a gifted mindshifter like my friend, Kiernan, a witch. Next time you see her, you will owe her your heartfelt apology. Do you understand me?

Dismore nodded. “I take it you can adequately perform a shieldwall?” “Yes, sir.” “A sinking?

The lecherous Avalon Ravener had finally noticed his young son, and the boy was now caught up in the midst of her voracious appetites and games. He also knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The single eye was a manifestation of the dark magic that maligned the physical traits of Ravener’s subjects.