A thousand years have passed since the Sunspear, an ancient weapon forged by the Gods, was lost to the sight of men in the last great battle of the Raven Wars. Now, the Dark God again reaches out from the Land of Eternal shadow to touch the world with his evil. The Goddess Danu gives Ciaran, a young Celtae warrior powerful in the Psi, the vast psionic power of the subconscious mind, the quest of finding the Sunspear. If he fails, the Dark God’s Long Night will fall over the world forever. The quest leads him ever deeper into the Forbidden Lands, perilous realm of the Shadow, where he is pursued by the Dark God’s evil Ring Lords, who also search for the Sunspear. The Ring Lords, however, are not Ciarán’s only worry. The Dark God sends one of his First Born, a Shaádhul mind-slayer, into the world to capture him and bring him to the Stone of Tears where he will either accept the Dark God as his Master or be cast into the Well of Souls. As he strives to elude the Shadow Lord’s hunters, Ciarán must confront his forbidden love of Danu’s tiny priestess, RILLSONG. He is further assailed with guilt over his infatuation with the beautiful Shadow Druidess, ISÉNGÁEL who captures his beloved foster sister KIARA and gives her to the Ring Lords. In the Valley of the Gods, he rescues Iséngáel and her half-Elven Ahati warriors from the deadly, Halfsouled Draugr. Joining forces, they fight their way through hordes of the near-immortal beings to reach the lost city of Gorias where Ciarán claims the Sunspear. Using the ancient weapon’s god-like power, he destroys the Ring Lords’ army that pursued him to Gorias, killing thousands of warriors, and laughing as their dying screams fill his ears. Only then does he realize that the greatest evil he has to overcome is not the Dark God, but the darkness that dwells within him. He must both learn to use the enormous power of the Sunspear wisely and keep his Darksoul at bay. If it gains control, he will become a creature of shadow, a Soultaken.
Sunspear
By J. MICHAEL ROBERTSONAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 J. Michael Robertson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4685-7961-1Contents
Chapter 1 The Healer..............................................1Chapter 2 Compelling Thoughts.....................................17Chapter 3 A Game Of Wisdom........................................31Chapter 4 Penance At Chobá Springs...........................45Chapter 5 The Night Of The Mind Slayer............................61Chapter 6 Someone To Trust........................................77Chapter 7 A Loosing Of Hounds.....................................97Chapter 8 A Night In Hjáran Nor..............................115Chapter 9 Of Dreams And Illusions.................................133Chapter 10 Tent Sisters...........................................147Chapter 11 A Confrontation With The Shadow........................161Chapter 12 What Price Honor.......................................177Chapter 13 A Gathering At Shalott.................................195Chapter 14 The Edge Of Darkness...................................211Chapter 15 An Enemy Saved.........................................227Chapter 16 A Broken Forbidding....................................245Chapter 17 Servant Of The First Born..............................261Chapter 18 Utangárdh.........................................277Chapter 19 Druids Keep............................................291Chapter 20 All Roads Lead To Dubhlynn.............................303Chapter 21 Boat Thieves And A Riverman's Tale.....................317Chapter 22 A Diversion At Kurin...................................331Chapter 23 The Valley Of The Gods.................................349Chapter 24 The Pyramids Of Balor..................................361Chapter 25 Desperate Flight.......................................379Chapter 26 Soul Breaker...........................................397Chapter 27 Strange Dreams And Woods Witches.......................409Chapter 28 Dragon Heart Pass......................................423Chapter 29 Bait For A Trap........................................441Chapter 30 The Guardians Of Gorias................................453Chapter 31 Sunspear...............................................463Chapter 32 The Darkness Within....................................483Glossary..........................................................489The Peoples And Gods Of Ithir.....................................525
Chapter One
THE HEALER
Two brightly painted wagons bounced and swayed over the rough, uneven grasslands of the Arhian Steppe on wheels taller than a man. Summer had hardly begun and already the pitiless sun had turned the steppe into a sea of golden grass. The sweet bunch grass rose to the giant Shiiran horses' shoulders allowing them to snatch bites without having to lower their heads as they plodded along. Ahead the jagged peaks of the Tróndeag Range stabbed into the western sky.
Jórrisael shaded her eyes from the harsh sun. Light was everywhere, a constant like the wind. She shifted uncomfortably on the driver's bench. Even with the thick cushion, her rump ached as though she sat on the bare boards. Absently, she gazed southward where the land ran away in gentle undulations of brown and gold until it faded into a shadowy haze. The wind rippled the grass into constantly changing patterns of wave-like motion that gave the steppe its name—the sea of grass.
Chobá Springs, the site of last night's trouble, lay to the south. She grimaced and turned her thoughts to the unconscious warrior lying on a pallet in the second wagon. The rune sign she had found emblazoned on his chest when she had treated his wounds put a chill on her heart. Three moons, a full moon enclosed by two crescents, made him a living death warrant for anyone who helped him.
"Oh, and let us not forget the killing of a Ring Lord," she muttered, wiping a thin sheen of perspiration from her brow that had little to do with the midmorning heat. "Mother of All, help us! A Warrior of the Three Moons walks the land." Looking skyward, she grumbled, "And You have dumped him in my lap."
* * *
A rumble, like distant thunder, forced its way into Ciarán's awareness as he slowly clawed his way upward through a dreamless dark. The rumble did not fade as it would with a storm, and there were other noises—creaks, rattles, and thumps. It also seemed to heighten the pain in his head, which throbbed, as though a Shadow Troll was beating the inside of his skull with a spiked war-hammer. For a few moments he lay still, trying to focus on piecing together the shards of his life floating in his head.
Ignoring the pain, he cracked his eyes open. A yellow roof swayed in a dizzying motion above him. He raised his head to get a look at his surroundings, escalating his headache into a pounding crescendo. A wave of nausea rolled over him, leaving him in an icy sweat. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on what his ears could tell him. A horse whickered. Recognition came, making his heart thud in alarm. I am in a wagon.
Memories stirred, coming like waves rolling onto a shore, soaking his mind. He had come to the Forbidden Lands on a quest. He had not come alone, but those who had traveled to this land with him were not with him now, of that he was certain. He struggled to draw together the fragmented jumble of events that had led him to end up on a pallet in a stranger's wagon.
Slowly, the fog clouding his mind began to dissipate. Memories of his brief stay in the dead city of Catreath marched into his thoughts, the Red Druid, Oisín teaching him to use his Psi; Scáthach and Alanna's capture by the Horse Clans; their journey to the Horse Clan camp through his mind-gate. He grimaced. He had been banished from the Black Lion wagons by the Horse Clan Chieftess. The reason for his banishment was still hazy, but the result had been his decision to make camp in the shadow of Llew's ruined temple.
Nightwind had sent him a warning of danger and a more puzzling sending about cubs. It had taken him a few moments to realize that the wolf was referring to human children. The giant wolf 's sending, along with knowledge of something called a Gleaning he had coerced from Scáthach had brought him here, wherever here was.
His eyes widened. Light! I can mind speak with dire wolves. Memory of the first time Nightwind had spoken to him flowed into his mind. He had been so startled that he had tripped and ended up on his nose. He chuckled, wincing at the pounding it caused in his head.
Memories of his attack on the Gleaning quelled his mirth. Just thinking about the Ring Lords' monstrous practice of forcing the Horse Clans to give up children who possessed the Godgift to serve the Dark God made him angry. Each year, dozens of children were taken to be raised and trained to serve the Shadow, never again to be seen by their families.
A feeling of grim satisfaction swept over Ciaran. The wolves, along with the Horse Clan Windswords shadowing the Gleaning, had helped him defeat a Shadow Priest and free the children.
You let the priest escape, he thought bitterly. The man had escaped because he was inexperienced in using his Psi as a weapon. There had been no time for Oisín to teach him the battle talents.
"Gods! I killed a Ring Lord!" he murmured, as visions of his battle with the Ring Lord Naphtal Sul and the Ring Lord's death flashed before his mind's-eye. "And more by luck than skill, boyo."
He rolled onto his side. Pain stabbed into his shoulder, and the contents of his belly...
