An Arrow Against the Wind Read online

  AN ARROW AGAINST THE WIND

  THE BOW OF HART SAGA, BOOK 2

  by P. H. Solomon

  Copyright & Credits

  Thank you for purchasing An Arrow Against the Wind. I hope you will enjoy the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Feel free to visit me at http://phsolomon.com for more information about my writing or to sign-up for email alerts of upcoming release, events and more. Once you've finished this book please share how much you liked it with a rating or review.

  Published by P. H. Solomon at Amazon Kindle.

  An Arrow Against the Wind is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons on the cover or in the text of the book, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2017 by P. H. Solomon, Second Edition 2017

  Excerpt for An Arrow Against the Wind Copyright 2015 by P. H. Solomon

  All maps are the property of the author, Copyright 2015 by P. H. Solomon

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming title The White Arrow by P. H. Solomon. This excerpt has been formatted for this book only and may not reflect the final content for the forthcoming edition.

  Ebook ISBN: 9781311335838

  Cover image licensed/commissioned through/by Chris Rawlins. Special thanks also goes to Chris Rawlins whose artistic vision produced such excellent cover art.

  Dedication

  To my daughter who has been a thoughtful, avid reader and without whom there would be no Spark. Thank you for your helpful suggestions

  Credits

  Beta Readers:

  The following is a list of my beta readers. They are a bright group and were so generous with their time and feedback: Carolyn Smith, Lyn Smith, Katherine King

  I want to especially offer my thanks to my editor, Jessica Barnes, without whom I wouldn't have made it this far. Jessica, you are truly a gem of an editor and you've taught me a great deal through your work.

  Other Books by P. H. Solomon:

  The Bow of Hart Saga:

  Trading Knives (prequel novella)

  What Is Needed (prequel novella)

  The Bow of Destiny

  An Arrow Against the Wind

  The White Arrow

  Thank you for reading this book. Upon finishing, if you liked this book, please click here and leave a few kind words about it.

  Also, if you enjoy reading my work, you can subscribe to my newsletter for more information about my other books, fun updates about the series, and news about upcoming releases. Click here to subscribe and receive a gift.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright & Credits

  Maps

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Preview of The White Arrow

  About the Author

  MAPS OF DENARIA

  Northeast Denaria

  From the Sigoth Range to Dragon's Maw

  Central Drelkhaz Region

  CHAPTER ONE

  The stone door boomed shut with the finality of a sarcophagus lid over a tomb. The echoing memory jolted Limbreth from her inner numbness by the morning fire. Athson was trapped inside Chokkra. Fear—she knew its feel now since the Banshee—rose like a bubble within her and lodged as a blocked sob in her chest. Limbreth closed her eyes. She'd almost opened her vein with a knife but for the death-grip. She picked up the travel-bread she'd dropped and stared at it. If she could only find him. But was Athson even alive after the door to Tordug's hidden rooms slammed shut?

  Gweld's cloak flapped in the wind like crow's wings beside her and drew her attention from her glum thoughts. She watched the elf shoulder his pack. "What do you think? Could we find him?"

  The elf crossed his arms and scanned the peaks that rose above the little stand of cedar where they camped in the mountains. He sighed a plume of breath. "I wouldn't know where to look, Limbreth. We'll just have to trust Makwi to get them out."

  Hastra stirred and stood with her pack in hand. She patted Limbreth's shoulder. "They'll make it out. I'm that certain of Eloch's will."

  Limbreth pushed Hastra's hand away and scowled at the Withling. The old woman had let it happen. "Really? Like when you believed the Bow of Hart was in Chokkra with Corgren? They're trapped in a huge den of trolls with Corgren like Athson's father, and all you can say is that you're right? I should have gone with Athson." At least she would have been with him.

  Hastra recoiled from Limbreth as if stung by bees. Her gaze shifted to Tordug and Gweld, then back to Limbreth. "I was not for rescuing Ath, but Eloch's sending was clear to me. Survival depended on those three going alone if it was to be done. No others. I don't know why, but I do know they will make it."

  "Well, now they're trapped and probably lost. I don't see how you are correct." Limbreth scrambled to her feet and shouldered her gear. To the dry wastes with respect for Withlings. She didn't regret her angry tone.

  Tordug approached her with his bushy brow furrowed. "Limbreth, I think Makwi will get them out. We'll go to several shelters and try to meet them at some point."

  She crossed her arms and swallowed the rising sob in her throat. "Shelters? Meet them?" She flailed an arm toward the path they'd traveled out of Tordug's little vale when they'd left his hidden apartments. "They're stuck in Chokkra. We need to figure out how to find them."

  Tordug raised his hands as if to halt Limbreth in her tracks. "Gell, I understand how you feel. But it's a task beyond us and blaming Hastra does no good. She didn't set that trap! We must trust that Makwi can do it. We should believe that Hastra is right about Eloch's foresight. She's been correct on many things. Makwi's gotten out of tight spots before."

  Limbreth wheeled away and wiped a sudden tear from her cheek. Her response came in a muted, husky tone. "So we're to abandon Ralda and Makwi and—and Athson?" Her shoulders sagged. She couldn't abandon him. Any of them. "And where do we go? If we find them at all? Where do we go?" She wheeled toward Hastra. The Bow of Hart hung over all of them, and they'd found nothing of it. "Where do we search?"

  Hastra touched her midsection, and a pained expression flashed across her face. "I'll admit I don't have that direction. Yet."

  "But you're correct about sending the others into a trap?"

  "Athson chose it. I merely expressed what I know to be Eloch's own truth of the matter. I can't know what's not given. I knew nothing of that trap at the door."

  Limbreth walked away through the surrounding cedars. This was wrong. Hastra led them with no straight answers. No wonder Athson distrusted her. Had Limbreth been blind to her manipulations all along? Was the Withling just after the bow no matter what happened? She wiped her
cheeks with her gloved hands and sniffed.

  "So where are we going, Tordug?" Gweld asked, back at the fire.

  Silence followed for a moment before Tordug cleared his throat. "Uh, we'll take a path to a high road and follow it south. We'll try to find the others. Makwi knows where to look for us. If we get far enough without them, we'll stop and wait."

  Limbreth rolled her eyes toward the puffy clouds drifting among the mountain peaks. They were just to wait? She wanted to scream, but her breath felt short for some reason, and her heart lurched in her chest. Fear. She hated it.

  "Speaking of traveling, I think it's time we go." Tordug sounded closer. "Limbreth, will you come? There's little chance of going back the other way and finding them. We'll more likely find trolls waiting."

  She nodded over her shoulder. "Yeah, coming. I'll catch up in a minute."

  Where else could she go? Athson wasn't with her, so she had to try to find him with the others. No matter how crazed it seemed. Tordug had planned for it with Makwi.

  Weakness weighted her limbs, but she paused at the dregs of the fire. Wisps of smoke rose from under the snow kicked on the coals by Tordug. Leaving felt like giving up. But she wasn't. Limbreth trudged after the others and left the snow-doused fire behind as they departed the isolated vale. She fell behind no matter her efforts to keep up with her companions, and Gweld often waited for her. At least the elf would help her find Athson, wherever he was. If he still lived.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Athson stirred into consciousness at a grinding roar. Rock fell in a merciless hail beyond the gate just paces away. Everything shook, and more stone fell about him as someone bore him away. He blinked. Corgren's spell. The fire. His head flopped against something solid, and he saw boots below a broad back. Ralda carried him.

  Athson turned his head, his ears ringing. He flexed his hands as the burning sensation in them seared across his awareness. He blinked at the dark hole that slewed around in his vision. Rock and dust spewed from it. The gate? They were outside. Boulders crashed over the wood. Athson lifted his head and a free hand toward the cascade of stone. "Father!" But the crescendo drowned his weak shout. He'd been so close. He sank back against Ralda's back, his thoughts crushed by the cacophony and his certain loss. The darkness faded into a hole surrounded by light.

  Ralda shifted, and Athson slammed into rock. He grunted. The giant kept running. Spark loped at Ralda's heels.

  Athson blinked again. He squeezed his eyelids shut. It was easier in the dark just now. His father was gone. Athson's breath caught in his throat as he exhaled.

  Ath's shout echoes in Athson's ears, "Run, Athson!"

  "I am." No, Ralda ran. Where? His father was with Corgren. "Go back. Ath."

  Ralda ran on.

  A spray of pebbles and larger rocks pelted them. Hadn't the giant heard him? No, he couldn't with all that noise. Athson turned his head and glimpsed a dark beard waving at him. Makwi? He was here too? Of course! Athson shut his eyes again as the crash of stone and Ralda's movement faded.

  Athson runs in the dark. Trolls howl as they thunder like an avalanche after him through the underbrush. Clawed paws snag and tear his clothing. Firelight fades. Heavy footfalls of trolls pound near, their huffing punctuated with grunts and snorts.

  He turns and rushes back toward the gorge, the Funnel, near the troll camp. More trolls search the night, and others call for help. A kobold appears in front of him, and he runs into it. They fall hard, and the creature squeals as Athson grunts and kicks the creature in the face. Athson scurries off its back and rushes on. Where can he hide?

  Deeper darkness yawns at his feet. He slides to a stop but not soon enough. He goes over the edge and rolls on a steep slope. Below, at the sheer edge, Athson's legs go over, and he grasps wildly for any handhold.

  Trolls point at him and howl as he slides over the edge. He falls and screams. As he goes, his father's sword spins gleaming out of the darkness.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The rumble of collapsing stone faded to groans and squeals from the mass of surrounding rock. Ath half-gagged, half-coughed dust and grit from his throat. "Hello?" His hoarse whisper echoed ahead. An open passage. He checked his limbs by feel. Cuts and bruises, but nothing broken.

  Ath crawled, but his chain pulled taut. His hands fumbled along the metal links. Who had held his chain last? Was it a buried troll? He felt around for a stone with a rough edge and enough weight to break the metal.

  His hand passed over an object. Ath touched it. Rough edges, cold metal with teeth. His heart thudded. A piece of a file. He grinned. With this, he could escape.

  Ath started scratching a link, his movement fast. He should make it quick, lest trolls come searching. Where could he go in this place? Where was a door? The questions slowed his fervor against the hard, thick chain.

  Someone groaned.

  Ath paused. He hid his short file in a pocket, a vast treasure. His hands trailed back along the chain. A large chunk of rock lay on it, and he slid it away with effort. He continued on along the chain. Rock fell near him. Ath cringed and covered his head with his arms. Silence settled around him. Just settling rock. Still, best not to linger longer than necessary.

  He searched along the length of his chain. He touched a hand and drew back with a gasp. He touched it again. It was warm and felt human. Ath sat back with a groan. "Corgren!" He coughed, and it sounded like a shout in the silence of the tunnel. Ath trembled a moment, frozen in place.

  Key! Did Corgren have it? He scrambled to the wizard and went through his pockets. Nothing. Ath pounded his leg with a fist. After a few moments, his frustration ended. So, it would be the file or nothing. He reached for his pocket.

  Corgren groaned.

  Ath froze again. If the wizard woke, he would take Ath's prize. Then what? Ath felt around for a heavy rock. He'd have to kill Corgren and then use the file. He felt for the wizard's bald head and lifted the rock with both hands.

  Rock tumbled in the blocked passage as the corridor quaked.

  The file might take too long. Ath's face contorted with the effort of holding the rock. If it took too long, he might be buried. He grunted. Who cared if Corgren died?

  Athson's voice, now a man's voice, flickered in his memory. Defiance. Had he survived? If so, he'd need Ath's help.

  Ath needed to escape Chokkra, and someone needed to lead him out. He needed the file—and Corgren—to escape. How, he didn't know, other than that they had used him against Athson. He'd use the file little by little and break loose at the best opportunity. Preferably when Corgren took him to bully Athson again to get the Bow of Hart. He tossed the rock aside, his arms trembling. He'd help Athson at the right opportunity, and that would come in time.

  He searched Corgren for broken limbs and found nothing but a bloody knot on his head. Ath dragged Corgren away from the rock, out of the choking dust. The chain clinked with his movements. He progressed with the arduous proficiency of a blind man. He felt for obstacles, lest he fall, until the occasional sound of settling rock faded.

  Corgren coughed and groaned. He rolled over in Ath's grasp.

  "What are you doing? Where am I?" Corgren shoved Ath weakly away.

  Ath stepped back. "There was a collapse. I pulled you away."

  Corgren hissed in pain. "That's a nasty blow." He went still and then pulled Ath close. "Why did you save me?" A trembling grasp reached for Ath's throat. "You tried to kill me. This head wound."

  Ath struggled with Corgren. "Please, no! It's the chain. We're attached. I don't think the trolls survived." He waved his hand in a vague approximation of the collapse.

  Corgren's grasp loosened. A weak laugh echoed in the tunnel. "I suppose you want some thanks, some reward?"

  Ath scrambled away. "No. It was just that rock kept falling around us."

  He heard Corgren rise with prolonged grunts. He pulled on the chain. "Well, since you want to live, come along."

  Ath followed. He squeezed the file in his pocket. He'd be re
ady if the time came. He shook his head. When it came. He coughed to cover a laugh. The file blazed like a candle of hope in his mind. When...

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Fire roared at Athson when he opened his eyes. He flinched and hissed in pain. Corgren's spell—no, a campfire. He groaned and sat up, or tried to. He flinched at his stinging hands and fell onto his back. Athson focused on the firelight. Definitely not wizard's fire. He groaned again. Stars wheeled into place over him with a roll of his eyes. He took a ragged breath. Where was his father? Still in Chokkra? Buried? Athson turned his head, touched his nose with a tender finger, and found dried blood. Salve covered his hands. "What's going on? Where is he?" He barely sounded like himself with this croaking voice.

  Someone poked the fire. Athson squinted into the light and guessed aloud, "Makwi?"

  "So you are awake, then." The dwarf's voice rumbled but fluttered with weariness. His arm was in a sling. "Ralda's around, be back anytime."

  "No, my father."

  "Who knows after that cave-in." Makwi shrugged and winced. "Sorry, lad. Barely made it ourselves, many thanks to Ralda."

  "I need to know." Athson forced himself into a sitting position. His head spun, and he leaned against a rock. They camped among boulders, and the touch of frigid wind brushed his hair and rustled needles among the squat pines surrounding them. "What happened?" His voice was hoarse, and his lips felt chapped beneath more salve.

  "I don't know for sure. Ralda got us out. He went hunting down the valley before dark." The dwarf's face wrinkled into a worried frown as he turned to look into the night for the giant. "It is dangerous this close to Chokkra, but we have little choice. I doubt they will follow. Ralda says the gate is blocked. We're settled at an old watch-post off one of the connecting walks to the mountain roads leading south."