Tower of the Eagle

By Edwin C. Mason

Henrik comes courting the fair daughter of a powerful wizard, but he comes with ulterior motives and carefully prepared lies. Can Brigitta discover his dark motives? Can she escape the broken and twisted minions he brings?

Tower of the Eagle is a 6300-word short story and this e-book includes the short story "The Enemy of My Enemy"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edwin C. Mason
• Release date: Aug 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781927857199

Edwin C. Mason

Edwin C. Mason was born in 1964 in a house half full of books and dedicated his early years to similarly filling the other half. Now he dreams of filling other people's houses the same way. He started writing in 1977 after reading "Pirates of Venus" by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and in the intervening years he has made every mistake it's possible for a writer to make. He lives in Toronto with his dreams and delusions.

Book preview

T

ower of the Eagle

Edwin C. Mason

© 2013 Edwin C. Mason

all rights reserved

GND Publishing

Toronto ON, Canada

Smashwords Edition

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Contents

Tower of the Eagle

The Enemy of My Enemy

Also Available by this Author

About the Author

Tower of the Eagle

Edwin C. Mason

I rode from the forest, from my home among the twisted trees and thick lichen, among the low and varied beings of the wilderness. The snow fell slowly around me and an eagle circled high, far out of bowshot. Not that I would have bothered, but those with me were superstitious. They believe the tales that eagles are more than just birds of prey.

My master whose name I may not tell, the Night Wizard of the forest, told me nothing of eagles, but he said much of the beings I brought with me. Their bodies, twisted like the trees, bore the marks of the rack, the knife, the heated poker. Only so could they be trusted to follow, to obey when ordered. They were mine now.

The tower stood ahead, a cylinder of ice, snow crowned, with bridges high in the air leading to two outlying towers. My master wanted it. I suppose I wanted it as well, but tales told of a greater treasure, a daughter of fair hair and eyes and freckled skin for which men would die. Well, not this man, but I would do what needed doing to bring her to my bed. Only her father stood in the way, so my master said.

The low things stayed behind me, falling back as I neared the edge of the forest so they could not be seen. One does not bring devils while courting.

My name is Henrik. I am no wizard, and so my name doesn’t matter, at least not in that sense. My name is mine, and all that I own save the dark-lacquered armour on my body and the keen sword at my hip.

Wind blew the snow from the road ahead of me until it was clear. My master is rarely so considerate, and I stood in awe now, wondering how important this quest—this lusting he had for the tower—really was to him. There must have been something in it he desired more than I desired the daughter of its owner, the Day Wizard. What it could be,