The Steward and the Sorcerer, James Peart [novels to read in english .txt] 📗

The Steward and the Sorcerer

The Chronicles of the Northern Earth, Volume 1

James Peart

Published by James Peart, 2021.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE STEWARD AND THE SORCERER

First edition. April 5, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 James Peart.

Written by James Peart.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

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THE CHRONICLES OF THE NORTHERN EARTH 1.

The first Druid of the new order stepped out of the molten core of the Brightsphere, sparks flying to each side of him, the embers of the Brightsphere dying as it retreated to a liquefied cocoon, glinting into the abyss as it returned to the world between worlds that had summoned it.

The Druid Daaynan looked to one side of him, then the other, his tall frame stooping slightly as he contemplated his surroundings as if for the first time, cloaked and hooded, nearly seven foot tall.  The corner of the keep in which he stood carried the moisture of faint damp, the window slits carrying fresh air from outside to the very centre of the castle.  It was a stronghold that had protected his predecessors for many years, stretching back before the time of the old histories and the recording of the course of lives they had been charged to protect had taken written form.  The environment had been very different then, almost unknowable when compared to today, yet the keep had been much the same as it was now, the complex of rooms and corridors it housed burrowing from beneath the earth and rising to the height of the turrets and steeples that looked out over the vast domain the members of his order had called their own.  From here through the vents he could smell everything from cultivated crops to the heather in wild fields that circled the castle.  He walked through the castle’s many chambers, surveying what lay hidden within them, assessing and making note of what had now become his property.

He tilted his head fractionally.  There was an alien presence outside, something he couldn’t identify easily, something that did not belong to the fields and hills surrounding the Druid fortress.  He sensed it as an impulse rather than a smell, carried in the warding lines that were laid outside the building, something that tripped the invisible threads signalling an intrusion of one kind or another.  It was too big to be a man, and too powerful.  It carried magic of its own, and it could sense his presence here.

Daaynan stretched his arms out in front of him, his hands touching, Druid fire- blue in colour- stringing from his fingers up and through the narrow window that lay above his head and toward the source of the intrusion.  The blue fire acted as a probe, giving him a mental image of the dimensions of whatever it was sent to investigate.  He had never used it before, yet he had been schooled in its use from inside the Brightsphere, the birthing cocoon of the Druids.

The intruder was human-like in appearance, he saw, impossibly tall, draped in a long broad-cloak like himself, though red, not black in colour, its features obscured by a large hood.  One of its hands, large and misshapen, protruded from the cloak it wore, shoots of unnatural wiry hair sticking out from beneath the cloth, growing wild and uneven.  A creature of some kind.  It stood motionless before the entry gate to the keep, waiting for something.  Waiting for him.

Daaynan lowered his hands, the blue flame dying at his fingertips.  It was difficult to ascertain what manner of being this was, shrouded as it was inside its robing.  You would have to get close to it to find out, and perhaps by then it would be too late.   The Druid records would be of little help as they needed a clear image to work with.  That left his instincts and these told him that this was a trap of some kind.  There were those in the Northern Earth who knew of Daaynan’s coming, of his rebirth as a sorcerer, those from his old life he had left behind in order to come to Fein Mor and train as a Druid.  Although he had tried to keep it a secret there were always some who knew.  Now he must face the consequences of that knowledge.

He was alone in the keep.  There were no other sorcerers, or sorcerers’ assistants, or staff of any kind.  No one to direct him in his transformation.  His calling to the order had come in the form of visions expressed to him in a sequence which told him in unmistakable terms that he was to be the next governor of Fein Mor.  He was living at the time in the small hamlet of his birth at the edge of the Northern Earth.  The villagers of Bottom Dell knew of the visions and of the illustrious history of the Druids and they would not have been surprised to learn that he had been receiving what they called The Summons, though he had kept it a secret from everyone he knew.  He had displayed magic abilities from a very early age, communicating soundlessly with animals from the woodlands surrounding his town, talking to the trees, changing their form and shape.  He had started by using simple hand gestures to evoke his magic, then had progressed to speech and finally he had wrought change on his surroundings by thought alone.  He had so far limited his use of magic to involve animals and stationary life.  As Druid, however, he would need to confront people and win battles, and although he had amassed an enormous amount of knowledge during his time spent in the Brightsphere, he was still relatively inexperienced and the thing standing outside the keep knew it.  There were elements in the world that sought to put an end to the Druid line and it was possible that