Seven Tribes Part 1: The Spear's Point

By Eric Guindon

Thirteen escaped the doom of the Old World.
Through an unlikely path they found a New World; but they brought the doom with them.
From the Thirteen, Seven Tribes were formed.
Through years of suffering they worked to contain the doom.
Now, almost a thousand years later, a great army of the Seven Tribes goes to take the war to the enemy.
But who remains to watch over home?
This is their story.

This is the first novella of a five part series that tells an epic fantasy tale.

Word Count: ~24000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Guindon
• Release date: Jun 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301177530

Eric Guindon

Eric Guindon is an IT professional who consumes much more fiction than he produces. He's working to change that.He is supported in his work by his lovely wife, Kathryn Norman, and his son, Luke.Some of his favorite authors include Neil Gaiman, Neil Stephenson, George RR Martin, Octavia Butler, Gene Wolf, Roger Zelazny, Brandon Sanderson, and John Scalzi.Eric and Kathryn keep an improbable amount of pets, including a very large Doberman Pinscher, Thor, three cats, three snakes, and two geckos.His ramblings can be read at: http://chimericwhimsey.com

Book preview

The Spear's Point

Seven Tribes

Part 1

By Eric Guindon

Books by Eric Guindon

A Wizard's Life:

Apprentice

Journeyman (coming soon)

Master (coming soon)

The Prophecies Triptych:

The Reluctant Messiah

An Unexpected Apocalypse

False Messiah

Text copyright ©2013 Eric Guindon

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

For Samantha Gough,

If Seven Tribes has a mother, it is you.

PROLOGUE

Castana couldn't bear the sounds outside: there were footsteps in the hall beyond her door.

If the door viewer worked she could look and see if it was a normal person, another victim like her, or one of Them. She shook with fear when she heard the sound of a lock turning, but then realized it was not hers; one of her neighbours had manually unlocked their door.

Please be a real person, she hoped for the sake of her neighbour.

The sound of the door sliding open was followed by a dull thud. Castana did not try to imagine what had caused it. She got away from her door and smothered her head under pillows until the violent noises from next door stopped.

She knew her own time would come soon enough. Without power, even water was running out. Food had run out days ago. What would she do when the hunger grew to be too much? Castana knew she would have to leave the relative safety of her apartment and go look for supplies.

Damned if I stay, damned if I go, she thought.

She decided to conserve energy by lying down again. She hid under her blankets, in her unlit bedroom, trying to forget her situation. She failed; her thoughts kept returning to how things had come to this.

Just four years before, things had been normal; It was hard to believe that everything could change so quickly!

From one day to the next, all new births were Eternals.

A once rare occurrence was suddenly the rule. At first, people were overjoyed, but as the children grew -- in the accelerated way of their kind -- it became clear these were not traditional Eternals. For one, they had a grey cast to their skin, for another, they weren't interested in teaching enlightenment; it was puzzling.

But things became clearer once there were more of the creatures old enough to possess adult bodies. Their numbers established, they made their move. They were only two years old but, like Eternals, they had the minds of adults from birth; unlike Eternals, they were malevolent.

Suddenly, supposed accidents caused power plants to blow up; starship engines malfunctioned and exploded, destroying star-liners and killing hundreds; water filtration plants failed, poisoning whole neighbourhoods; and bombs, so many bombs . . . .

All caused by actions tied to the new grey-skinned Eternals; people called for their blood. Little did they know how ready the creatures were. Their response was to trigger attacks causing even worse damage to infrastructure; to kill even more people. The security forces were not ready for these attacks, not from creatures they thought they could trust.

The world fell apart.

The last news broadcasts Castana had seen had called the creatures Darklings. The name fit, she felt.

They had won.

All new births were of their kind, so the normals were doomed either way. Worse, the Darklings were playing with the remaining survivors; elaborate games of cat and mouse.

Castana knew she was alive only because she had been overlooked and that could only last so long. Eventually, a Darkling would come for her. Even if none did, she would die without fresh supplies. She cried under her blankets, wasting precious water she didn't have to spare.

She heard a new sound. Was it her vid-unit's call chime?

It can't be! she thought. There's no power.

She peeked out from under the blankets and saw a glow from the vid-unit's screen. A soft radiance she thought she'd never see again. Hesitantly, she left her bed and walked to the unit. The light indicating a waiting caller was blinking.

This is impossible!

She reached out and pressed the Receive Call button. The screen resolved into a three-dimensional image of a stranger's upper torso.

A trick! The Darklings, playing their games!

She backed up from the terminal, hands held out in front of her to ward off an attack -- although she could not imagine what form it would take.

Hello? Can you hear me? the stranger asked.

She wanted to speak, but found she could not; it had been too long.

I am calling to offer you a way out, a way to live through this, the man said. She studied the form, now that she was far enough away to feel safe. The image was that of a man, his head shaved, with unusual features; his cheekbones were too defined, his chin and jaw too sharp. Most unusual were the markings; he had a collection of diamonds, dots, and teardrops in different colours tattooed on his face.

A Lunatic is calling me, she thought.

How . . . ? she managed to croak out. How are you calling me?

"Magic. I'm not sure how you are seeing this, but it is a magical connection, the man answered the question he thought she'd asked. I am gathering twelve, along with myself, to do a ritual. It is risky, but I think we thirteen could leave this world and travel to the Eternal City. I need you to join us."

Why . . . ? Why bother?

You possess qualities we need as part of the thirteen. The ritual is quite specific. Will you come?

How . . . ? How can I trust you?

The magician who established this connection is well versed in Travel magic. He can bring you here, to us. Will you come?

She wanted to believe, but did not. Still, she would play along: what did she have to lose? She nodded.

The vid-unit went dead and the room became dark again, as it had been before. She collapsed and cried.

I'm hallucinating. There's no rescue coming for me.

The hallucination had made everything worse. She had no hope, not anymore. Castana stood and slowly walked to the door that led to the apartment building's hallway and reached for the manual unlock lever. She was about to pull it when she saw light coming from behind her.

She spun about, expecting the vid-unit to have come to life again. She welcomed the hallucination's return. But she saw the last last thing she expected: a man standing in a doorway of pure light.

He held out his hand to her and she took it.

Thirteen escaped the doom of the Old World.

Through an unlikely path they found a New World; but they brought the doom with them.

From the Thirteen, Seven Tribes were formed.

Through years of suffering they worked to contain the doom.

Now, almost a thousand years later, a great army of the Seven Tribes goes to take the war to the enemy.

But who remains to watch over home?

CHAPTER 1

Looking around at the trees surrounding them, Kire was certain they were lost.

Why did I trust Tanax and his shortcut? he thought.

Tanax was ahead of him a few steps, looking in the direction of the sun. Kire looked at his friend and wondered how it felt to be Tanax. The boy was so direction-less sometimes. There he stood in the woods, laden down with the tools of all the trades he had sampled over the years: short bow and arrows, broadsword and shield, ring mail armour, components for three paths of magic, and the symbol of Ottan's followers: a miniature smith's hammer on a leather thong around his neck.

He looks like he's a pack horse for three different people.

Kire never had such uncertainty about his own path in life; he carried his greatsword strapped across his back and it sat there comfortably, like a part of his own body. He knew his path: he was made for battle.

Are we lost? he asked Tanax, as a formality.

No, the Syole said, shaking his head. It's that way.

Are you sure?

Yeah, Tanax assured him. I'm an excellent woodsman.

Are you as good at woodcraft as you are with that sword? Kire asked.

Tanax made a face at him. Kire smiled, dropped the subject and followed Tanax as he led the way, trusting his friend.

My people are of the forest, you know, Tanax said as they walked down what Kire couldn't call a path with a straight face.

"Half. I'm not sure if you got that half, Kire pointed out. Tanax wiggled his pointed ears as a rebuttal. Sure, you're tall and you have the ears, but it ends there, I think."

I am finding our way through these woods, Tanax countered.

We're not out yet. At this rate, we'll be late.

This is a shortcut Kire, we'll be on time. Kire smiled at his friend's confidence.

I just hope we've not gone off-course so badly that we wander into wilder territory, Kire voiced his