I include here a WIP cover image and the first chapter of the book.
If you could read it (or let your children read it) and tell me what you think, I would be very grateful.
It was a cold winters day and the world was white with snow. The lone traveller paused in his walk and looked back at his tracks disappearing into the north. He adjusted the long sword at his side, pulled his cloak more firmly round him, and broke into a swift stride south again.
. . .
The cold black fortress Zitor, which had been the place of the warlord Loose for years now, was falling into disrepair. The old walls were beginning to crumble, and the gates to the outer courtyard no longer existed.
The guard on the wall top, gazed out across the white plain. As his eyes wandered they were caught and held by a black speck approaching from the north. It grew steadily nearer, and soon he identified it as a man striding firmly through the deep snow.
. . .
The traveller stared ahead, through the flakes of snow that had started to fall, at the small cluster of huts which formed the hamlet. And at the large forbidding shape of the dark crumbling fortress that overshadowed it. It looked an uninviting place, but he needed to stay somewhere for the night.
As he drew closer he noticed there was an unusual lack of activity around the huts, but he put it down to the late hour. He reached the hamlet and walked down the street looking for a inn.
. . .
Vold, the captain of the guard, was not enjoying himself. Walking around the cold snowy streets checking for anyone out after curfew wasn't his idea of fun. It wasn't as though there would be anyone either, not on a night like this. He might as well have been sitting round the fire in the barracks, having a pint with his mates. Calling to his men, he set off down the street, at least the walking kept him warm. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, a dark figure loomed through the now heavily falling snow. “Halt, stay where you are.” The traveller stopped, his hand straying imperceptibly towards his sword. Vold stepped forward pointing his spear at stranger.
“What's your name, your business, and what are you doing out after curfew?”
“They call me Hawk, my business is my own, and I didn't know there was a curfew.”
He spoke in a tough, grim, voice that Vold didn't like the sound of, he repeated himself.
“Stay where you are.”
Hawk said “Let me pass.” and stepped forward brushing aside the spear. Vold dropped it and drew his sword. “you stay where you are, or I’ll run you through!”
There was a whir, the clash of steel on steel, and Vold found himself looking down Hawks blade, while his own sword stood quivering in the side of a nearby hut. He took one look, and ran!
Hawk sheathed his sword and continued up the street as though nothing had happened.
Turning a corner he was brought to an abrupt stop by the two spears of two guards, a swift step back and he could feel a third at his back. Vold stepped from the shadows, a smile on his face.
“Got you this time, Hawk.”
. . .
The warlord Loose sat back in his judging chair and surveyed the man before him. A tall dark fellow who looked as though he could do some damage with that sword Vold had taken from him. It was a good thing, he observer to himself, that Vold had had the sense to tie his hands, or those bungling guards of his would have had a time of it trying to bring him in.
“So, Vold, you say you found this fellow out after curfew?”
“Yes my lord Loose, and he offered resistance sir.”
Hawk spoke. “What do you expect a man to do when he threatened without reason?”
Loose ignored him, and spoke to Vold. “Throw him into the dungeons, he'll know not to break my laws again, after he's cooled his heels in there for a bit.”
Hawk acted like lighting. Spinning round he knocked Vold flying, then, grabbing his sword in his bound hands, he leaped across the room and flung himself through the window. There was a stunned silence for a few minutes. Then Loose spoke. “No need to look. It's the sixth floor!”