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    The Staff of Xandra
    The Staff of Xandra
    The Staff of Xandra
    Ebook135 pages1 hour

    The Staff of Xandra

    By P.B. Thompson

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    About this ebook

    Trygor had been at peace for thousands of years. The days of the Dark Children long past. But times were changing. An increase in Skegg raiding parties, hundreds of miles from their home lands, forced the Changelings to act. Kaleb, a human who had mastered the madness, and Shen, a Changeling unusual among her race, had been defending villages and seeking the reason for these attacks for over a year. This search was abruptly ended when Shen received news from her Settlement of something terrible that had happened. The result of which starts Kaleb on a journey to not only stop the release of the Dark children once more, but to discover the power within him to become one of the Trygor Legends.

    The Staff of Xandra is Book 1 in The Trygor Legends 6 book series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherFerret Publishing Ltd
    Release dateJun 11, 2014
    ISBN9781310239625
    The Staff of Xandra

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      Book preview

      The Staff of Xandra - P.B. Thompson

      Chapter One

      False Crystals

      The warm glow brought a smile to Langard's thin lips. Creases in the pale skin on his face widened as he saw the result of years of hard work finally coming to fruition.

      He was mesmerised, paralysed with inaction from the beauty of the scene before him. Multiple colours danced around the cave, shadows playing on the craggy rock faces. The majesty of the six elemental crystals was all encompassing and held him there in a reverie that would have lasted for all eternity if Heron hadn't entered the cave when he did.

      Heron stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene. His mind enveloped by the glow.

      Langard was brought round with a vicious bump by the interruption and spat out,

      What do you want?

      Heron jumped back as though someone had thrown something at him and shook his head.

      The council has requested an update on your work. Looking back at the glowing, enticing crystals he said, I see you have finally succeeded.

      Langard, with a furious anger leapt at Heron and with his claw like hands, pinned him to the wall by the throat.

      If you dare tell the council my news I will come round to your dwelling one dark night and cut out your intestines and hang you from the rafters with them. The news is mine to give and no one else’s. Understand!

      The terror in Heron's eyes told Langard what he wanted to know, but Heron confirmed it.

      I...won't...say a word.

      Heron dropped to the floor as Langard's grip was released. Langard walked over to the crystals and began to cover them with the Raelon sheet.

      Tell the council I will be there in one hour.

      Yes, my Lord. Heron scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as his legs would take him.

      The hour slid by as Langard prepared himself for his audience with the council. His human servant bathed him and then dressed him in his finest attire. Bright red and yellow silk garments from the farthest reaches of the Trygor lands. They fitted his Ogre body like a second skin, a body that he was proud of.

      He looked at himself in the mirror. His grey, wrinkled skin sparked with colour from his bright clothes. He noticed the grey strands that weaved their way through his short knot of hair.

      Human! he bellowed. Bring me the worm paste!

      The bag of bones that masqueraded as a human female, the latest in a long line of human servants Langard had owned, scampered to a shelf at the far end of the room. Picking up a large wooden casket she scampered back favouring her left leg since Langard threw her across the room when she recently spilt water over his foot.

      With her head lowered she opened the casket and offered it up to Langard who scooped out a handful of dark brown paste and rubbed it in his hair. A few seconds later he checked in the mirror again. His brown razor-like teeth showed as he smiled his satisfaction at the image looking back at him.

      Hands! he snorted.

      The human hobbled over to a table that contained a bowl of water and returned to Langard. She began to wash his hands. Once finished and dried Langard pushed her away and took one more look in the mirror.

      Now for the council, he said.

      Chapter Two

      Ogre Council

      The large wooden building stood on its own in the enclave. Decorated with jewels, offerings from the many raids the Ogre armies made in the one hundred years they had been there, it glistened in the midday sun.

      The entrance towers overshadowed every wooden dwelling within the enclave walls and displayed the limits to the Ogres building skills. Atop the towers were lookouts that could see across the land outside. A land that consisted of arid desert to the south with a mountain range fifteen miles in the distance. The enclave had been constructed at the edge of the thin desert amongst a rocky terrain, beneath which was the elements that the crystals were created from.

      Langard walked towards the bejewelled building and grunting at the guards as he walked through the open door. The Sharp blades of their tall Staff weapons half blinded him with the reflection from the sun as though they were aimed at him on purpose. The shadows of the entrance relieved him of the uncomfortable light.

      Within the cover, stairwells ascended to the tops of the towers on either side of him and in front of him a solid wooden door, reaching to one and a half times his own height, stopped him from going any further. He raised his giant hand to pound on the obstruction, but it opened before he hit the wood.

      Cowering behind the door was a runt. Not quite a slave like the humans, but a lower form of Ogre that performed the menial tasks that Ogres saw as beneath them. Runts were usually deformed in birth and not fit for war.

      Welcome, my Lord, came the feeble response to Langard's presence. The Council await your arrival. Please come in. I will tell them at once that you are here.

      Langard drew his meaty lips back in disgust. He despised runts. He saw no use for them and thought they should have all been killed at birth.

      As he moved into the cool hallway and the door closed behind him he felt an ease, as though he'd come home. This will be his dwelling when the demons are his to command, he thought to himself.

      The wait was prolonged, he felt. On purpose, no doubt. The Council exerting their authority which, he conceded, will be no less than he will do when he finally takes control. And the depictions of war on the murals on the walls will be replaced with his own family's conquests. There is much to do when I take over, he mused.

      Finally the call came from the Runt.

      The Council will see you now.

      Once again Langard displayed his disgust at the dis-formed figure in front of him. It was a mere glance as he couldn't bring himself to look at it for too long.

      The short walk to the doors of the Council chambers saw no-one except a few humans running their errands. The Runt dispersed to its menial chores keeping well away from him.

      At the entrance two guards stood. They carried no weapons. These were members of the Psychic Assassins. A group of Ogres blessed with psychic abilities and steeped in mystique, they provided personal protection for the Council at all times. Every Ogre feared them. Langard's fear of them had waned considerably over the last few days.

      As it was with the time Langard had previously seen the council, the assassins stood motionless. Not giving him a second look. Their heads were covered with a large hood that hid their faces.

      When Langard was young it was said the assassins had their eyes gouged out to prove they had the gift, for they had the ability to see with their mind. The hoods perpetuated that particular playground myth.

      Langard pushed open the double doors and entered the chambers.

      As on previous occasions the sight before him took his breath from his body for a second. The high vaulted ceiling displayed the history of ancient Ogre conquests. Depictions of Ogres impaling humans. Graphic details of torture scenes of Skeggs and Trolls in glorious colour. Army's on their mounts marching through long lost kingdoms.

      The scenes continued on down the walls where tapestry's hung, woven by human slaves. Each tapestry was twice the height of Langard and the rich colours had a joy inducing quality that took hold of anyone who looked at them.

      In the centre of the chamber was a large stone table set on a natural dais. It looked as though it grew up from the very rock it stood on. At its sides were eight high backed wooden chairs each with a council member sitting there. The head of the table was occupied by the leader of the council, Torendal, an Ogre who had lived through the great migration from the South nearly two hundred years ago.

      He was dressed in the traditional council raiment, a long flowing gown of brown human skin with jewels woven into the leather. Each of the other council members had the more formal plain white human skin gowns.

      Standing next to Torendal was Dango, the leader of the psychic assassins. Dango made his customary identification in Langard's mind who bowed his head slightly in recognition of the greeting. Immediately ignoring him, Langard turned to Torendal and the rest of the council. He stopped three metres from the stone table before speaking.

      I bring the news we have all been waiting for. I have successfully created the elemental crystals required for the release of the dark children.

      An excited buzz reverberated around the table and Langard even noticed a slight movement from Dango. Was that excitement from the assassin, he thought?

      "They are even more beautiful and mesmerising than I could have ever imagined. My years of work down in the dark damp cave have paid off immeasurably. They await to be seated in their rightful place. The Staff

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