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The Untamed Sword: A Sword and Sorcery Adventure

The Untamed Sword: A Sword and Sorcery Adventure

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The Untamed Sword: A Sword and Sorcery Adventure

Length:
122 pages
1 hour
Publisher:
Released:
Feb 4, 2018
ISBN:
9781370179015
Format:
Book

Description

Rebellion is as old as the desert sands.

When a series of riots break out in Dammar Muna, Konn is assigned the task of protecting the sheik’s niece, and protect her he will, even if his life is forfeit. A trained and skilled fighter, Konn stands in the way of those who oppose the sheik.

But as rebellion turns to revolution, and chaos reigns, the task of telling friend from foe grows more difficult, and the age-old question arises as it often does during revolutions—whose side are you on?

Publisher:
Released:
Feb 4, 2018
ISBN:
9781370179015
Format:
Book

About the author

A.R. Williams developed a love for reading at a very young age and in the fourth grade, when an assignment to write their own works of fiction was given, it occurred to him that he could craft tales for others to enjoy. A.R. Williams’ work has appeared in Heroic Fantasy Quarterly, Three Crow Press, and Every Day Fiction. A.R. received an honorable mention in the fourth quarter of the Writers of the Future Contest in 2010.


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Interior Blurb

Rebellion is as old as the desert sands.

When a series of riots break out in Dammar Muna, Konn is assigned the task of protecting the sheik’s niece, and protect her he will, even if his life is forfeit. A trained and skilled fighter, Konn stands in the way of those who oppose the sheik.

But as rebellion turns to revolution, and chaos reigns, the task of telling friend from foe grows more difficult, and the age-old question arises as it often does during revolutions—whose side are you on?

The Untamed Sword

A.R. Williams

© Copyright 2018, A.R. Williams

Image licensed from BigStockPhoto.com

All rights reserved. Except as permitted in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the express permission of the author.

arwilliams@a-r-williams.com

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Title Page

Blurb

Copyright

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

Excerpt: Sword & Sorcery Sampler

About the Author

Dammar Muna’s square white-bricked homes sat in the desert like ancient bones. Through the midday heat Konn looked welcomingly at the sight of the mountains, just beyond the village, where the palace lay. It would never be home for him, these desert sands, but the palace walls offered comforts that he sorely needed at the moment.

The trip east had been long and difficult. Sheik Al Ashab pushed his men through the rough desert days in order to reach Nyss Athrr before the people there destroyed an ancient relic that had been discovered in a tomb of some sort. The mask of Amra, the spider god. It was nothing more than an old, leather mask from what Konn could tell. Hardly worth the effort to save it.

The Sheik seemed pleased with his new acquisition though. He rode at the center of his lords looking happier than Konn had seen him look in the past six months. He joked with his brother Abdul Hakeen, exchanged pleasantries with his niece, Nasira, and even talked for some length of time with General Bokor who had a strange witch-woman named Xeveria following behind him like a shadow.

All was well. Just a few more miles and they would be back at the palace and blissful rest. Konn began to think about which one of his ladies he would like to visit first. He smiled as he conjured up the delights that each one offered in his mind.

I can tell what you are thinking, just by the way you smile, Rahaman said, riding up next to Konn. Which woman did you decide upon tonight?

Actually, I was still deciding.

If I know you as well as I think, then surely it will be Zada.

Konn thought about it. Zada’s nice. She’s got good hands.

When are you going to settle down like an honest man and stop stealing the hearts of all these women?

Konn shrugged. I don’t know. Maybe when one of them steals my heart. Maybe when I grow bored and tired of adventure. Maybe when I’m old and useless. Or maybe never. Until then, I’ll keep enjoying the fruits of bachelordom, life has too much to offer to settle down.

Time is a thief, my friend. A man needs many children to see him through his twilight years.

I don’t know if I’ll live that long. I don’t want to be old. Maybe one day I’ll meet the man who will beat me in combat. But I haven’t met him yet. Konn thought for a moment. I guess, if I live to be an old man I’ll consider having children then.

Rahaman chuckled. Having children will challenge a man in ways even combat can’t do.

Maybe you’re right. What made you marry so young?

Rahaman beamed proudly. I knew from the moment I saw her that she was the one for me. When I looked into her eyes, I knew I could have no life if she wasn’t in it.

"I can’t imagine spending all my life with a single woman, nor all of my coin."

Rahaman laughed and patted the bag that held the dimars he had earned while on the sheik’s quest. He had not spent more than a few of the small gold coins stamped with Al Ashab’s image. My wife will count the days I am gone and the coins I should have earned while I was away.

Konn shook his head. I don’t see the need to give her all of the coins.

That’s why you are still single and broke. While, me my friend, am married and rich.

Konn was broke, but he didn’t think marriage would solve that problem. He gazed back at the long caravan of soldiers that were still far behind them. The line seemed to stretch for miles.

Rich or poor, Konn said gesturing at the men who came after them, I’m glad I’m not at the end of that line.

That we can agree upon.

As they rode into the city, Konn felt a queer feeling overtake him. Something was wrong.

Instantly he became more alert. His instincts had saved his life on more than one occasion, even if he didn’t know what they were trying to warn him about at the time. He scanned his surroundings, looking for trouble.

The streets were empty. Even in this midday heat, people would be about; traveling to and from market, drawing water from the well, praying outside on woven mats. Yet, no one was around.

Those around him had not noticed yet. Sheik Al Ashab continued conversing with General Bokor. Prince Abdul Hakeen and Nasira talked with her maid-servant, Atia.

Off in the distance, coming somewhere in the direction of the market, he could hear shouting. The noise grew louder the closer they approached and now others became aware of the disturbance too.

The sheik sent three men ahead to see what the commotion was about. The guards returned with word of an old woman, standing at the center of the market, disparaging the sheik.

She should be killed at once, General Bokor stated. The guards turned their horses around to do his bidding.

Sheik Al Ashab called them back. He would hear what the woman had to say before casting judgment on her crimes. On they rode, the sheik solemn, General Bokor slightly agitated, Abdul Hakeen stoic.

The road widened as they neared the market. The sheik’s army continued to wind its way through the city. All along the route beggars lay in the streets and alleys in tattered clothes, beggar bowls held out as they pleaded for coin or food. Some were former soldiers, an arm or leg lost in combat, some were those born blind at birth or pretending to be, some were children who had no home, no family.

There were always a lot of beggars in the poorer sections of Dammar Muna. Now, their numbers seemed to have tripled. They blended as one. They bowed their heads as the sheik passed, raised their call for aide so that their voice and need could be elevated above the others, raised empty beggar bowls, their thin arms outstretched.

Water, one man cried. Water!

I haven’t eaten in a week, shouted a woman as the sheik came close. I have children. Help me, please!

The sheik rode past them with his head held high and ordered one of his men to pass out dimars. The coins were tossed into the dirt as the man rode past, the gold twinkling, as it touched sunlight then disappeared as it landed in a cloud of dust and sand.

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