Sands of Betrayal

By Jason Halstead

Alto's choices have led him through ruin and victory. His friends and his enemies are among the most dedicated the world has ever seen. From farm boy to champion, Alto has excelled where no one else has dared to venture.

Now the young Thane must fight through the broken remnants of the Order of the Dragon and the city of Mira to rescue his imprisoned sister. She's being held for the death of her husband, a minor royal who married her under false pretenses. Alto must save her and find a way to abort the massing armies that threaten to overwhelm the northern nations.

But first his enemies give him a choice, save the woman he loves or save his sister. Only he can decide who must die so that the other may live.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Novel Concept Publishing LLC
• Release date: Sep 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301985616

Jason Halstead

Jason Halstead has always had colorful stories to tell. At an early age that creativity usually resulted in some kind of punishment. At long last he's come into his own and has turned his imagination into an asset that is keeping thousands of people entertained. When he's not writing Jason spends his time with his wife and two children, trying to relive his glory days as a powerlifter, or developing new IT systems for his dayjob. He enjoys reading and responding to fan mail as well, so if you liked any of his books, don't be shy! Sign up for his newsletter, find him on the web at http://www.booksbyjason.com, email him at: [e-mail], or follow him on Twitter: @booksbyjason.

Book preview

Sands of Betrayal

By Jason Halstead

Published by Novel Concept Publishing LLC at Smashwords

©2013

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For additional information contact:

www.novelconceptpublishing.com

32115 Bancroft Dr

Novi, MI 48377

Cover art © 2013 Willsin Rowe

Proofread by Faith Williams

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Jason Halstead’s website: http://www.booksbyjason.com

Keep an eye out for these other Order of the Dragon books:

Isle of the Ape

Chasing the Dragon

Sands of Betrayal

And look for the Blades of Leander books:

Child of Fate (book 1)

Victim of Fate (book 2)

Silver Dragon (book 3)

or pick up all 3 at once in the Blades of Leander boxed set

Chapter 1

Prince Hafnirrin studied the hill at the forest's edge and watched the ogres move across the trail that led out of the mountains. A gentle breeze kicked up out of the mountains and carried the smell of smoke. He scowled. He could smell the foul stink of the ogres’ wind. He raised his hand to signal his archers.

My lord, they've done us no harm! his friend and advisor, Scoutmaster Gejallrim, hissed. I've seen humans working alongside them.

Because we've caught them first, the prince growled. They are monsters and nothing more. Humans are little better than these unwashed beasts. I'll not have elven blood spilled because I hesitated.

Geja clamped his lips together and nodded. The prince turned his head to the archers concealed in the trees on either side of him and thrust his hand forward. They drew back the strings on their slender bows. Their bows buzzed with the sound of a hummingbird as their arrows took flight.

The eight elves drew a second arrow and fitted it to their strings while the first found their monstrous targets toiling among the rocks. Two of the seven ogres fell as arrows pierced their leathers and flesh. One struggled back to his feet but the other lay thrashing on the ground as blood poured from a lucky gash in his throat.

A cry of surprise went up from the brutish miners. They snapped off the arrows and grabbed up picks and hammers. An ogre with a scar on the side of his head roared out orders to the others. They dove behind rocks and small trees, seeking cover as the second flight of arrows took them. The leader of the miners jerked as an arrow found a home in his shoulder. He plucked it out, snapping it in his meaty fist and tossing it to the ground.

If not the arrow, then the blade! Prince Hafnirrin snarled. He leapt out of his tree and landed on the ground with barely a scuffle. He drew his long saber, a narrow, gently curving blade, and led the charge up the trail that led into the mountains. His men followed behind, their own blades drawn and ready.

Prince! Gejallrim hissed as he tried to keep up with his friend.

The zealous royal ignored him and cleared the top of the path by leaping out of the reach of an ogre and diving into a roll. He launched himself to his feet and lashed out, hewing into an ogre's thigh and twisting away as the ogre howled and staggered into another one of his kin.

The ogre leader shouted orders and used his hammer to smash an elven scout in the chest. The sound of the elf's breath exploding was secondary to the popping of his ribs as he was sent flying back down the hill. Two more elves leapt out of the way but a third was struck by the doomed elf and sent rolling down the path.

Geja's sword cut open a ribbon of flesh along the ogre leader's side but the elf darted away from him to run to the aid of his prince. Hafnirrin was twisting and dodging the three ogres that surrounded him while the fourth one that he'd crippled held his thigh and leaned against a wall of rock.

Hafnirrin danced between a slicing pick and a crushing hammer. The third ogre stiffened and snarled when Geja's blade dug into the back of his thigh. The elven prince seized the chance and sliced across the ogre's belly, gashing open his leather shirt and spilling the ogre's guts onto his thighs and ground.

The ogre leader shouted more orders to his men in their crude language. He stumbled as an elf crashed into him, driven there by an ogre whipping his pick around to free his weapon of the impaled man. The scout stared up through his almond-shaped eyes at the ogre leader. He clung to his jerkin with his arms since his legs had no life left in them. The elf drew a dagger and thrust it into the ogre's hip as the ogre drove his fist into his head and knocked him loose.

The ogre snarled and wrenched the blade free, and then turned in time to have another arrow strike him. This one dug a bloody furrow along his head and bounced off his skull. He ducked and turned, growling in pain and fury. He saw four of his men were down, leaving only himself and another ogre still standing. The third had blood pouring down his leg from where he crouched.

The ogre felt another fiery sting as one of the nimble elves cut him on the back. He turned and swung his hammer, driving the elf back but missing him. He kept turning and came back around to see the elf with the silver star holding his dark green cloak about his throat lunging towards him. He tried to bat the elf's sword aside with his hand but the blade thrust into his side and then sawed out. His blood sprayed across the rocks and ground, but the ogre was beyond caring.

Prince Hafnirrin ducked under the clumsy hammer strike. He spun away from the ogre and took a two-handed grip on his blade as he turned. His blade cut into the opposite side of the ogre and stopped after cleaving one rib in half. The elf pulled his blade free at an angle, sawing through more flesh and causing the ogre to teeter on his tree-sized legs.

Geja lashed out at the other standing ogre time and again, using his strikes to distract him while scouts flanked him and struck together in unison with their swords. They thrust them up and into the ogre’s sides, sending him leaping through the air to escape their bite and then falling to the ground as Geja leapt to the side. He finished the fallen ogre by thrusting his sword into the back of his neck.

The ogre leader snarled and swung his hammer back and forth with both hands, keeping the elves at bay. The last elf to come up the path, the same one that had been knocked back down by his fallen comrade, fit a fresh arrow to his bow. He drew it and fired, burying the smooth point in the ogre where his shoulder met his neck. The ogre spat an ogrish curse at him and raised his hammer overhead. The elf was grabbing a fresh arrow when the ogre's hammer flew through the air and smashed into his belly. The elf doubled over as momentum brought the shaft of the weapon up into his face and sent him falling backwards.

Hafnirrin leapt in and cut three of the ogre's fingers off with his first slash, and then reversed his cut in a thrust that slipped between the ogre's ribs and made the large miner stiffen. Hafnirrin pulled his blade free and stepped back. The ogre stumbled a step and then turned slowly. Blood bubbled out of the latest wound in his chest where the prince's sword had pierced his lung. The ogre tried to speak but he only coughed and gagged, blood running from his face. He turned on Hafnirrin again and pointed at him with his whole hand. He spat at the elf, his bloody sputum landing on the dusty ground near his foot.

Hafnirrin ran forward and, after two steps, leapt into the air and thrust his sword past the injured ogre's rising arm. He felt the blade pierce flesh and then grate off the ogre's spine at the back of his throat. He planted his foot on the ogre leader's belly and leapt away, tearing his long saber out in the process. The ogre stood still for a moment until Hafnirrin turned back around, his blade held up in a defensive gesture. Then the miner fell forward and crashed into the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

Gejallrim walked towards the wounded ogre, his blade held out and a sneer on his face. The ogre's eyes were narrowed and his normally ruddy face pale with lost blood. He clenched his teeth and, with his lips twitching in agony, he rose up to his feet and stared at the elf.

Kill him, Hafnirrin ordered from where he stood above the leader of the ogres.

Geja and three other elves fell on the ogre, stabbing and slashing until he fell and moved no more.

* * * *

Ketten hurried to keep up with Graak as the ogre stormed through the tunnels. He was about to break into a jog when they stepped into the large cavern that ran through the dormant volcano the queen of the north had claimed as her seat of power. Queen Rosalyn was walking alongside the paladin of Leander, Aleena.

My ladies, Ketten beckoned to them and halted to bow to his mistress.

Graak ignored him and stormed across the hall towards the queen. The elves have declared war! he snarled.

Rosalyn looked up at the imposing ogre and tilted her head. I wondered if losing your manhood would make you more civil, the emaciated queen said. I see it has not. Does that also mean you've forgotten respect for the person who saved your life?

Graak gnashed his teeth together and dropped to a knee. Forgive me, my queen, he growled. A band of ogres were ambushed and butchered by the elves in the west.

Aleena looked back and forth between the two. Her brow furrowed with unasked questions.

Rosalyn offered a cold smile to the ogre. Rise, my general. Tell me more. We've had no dealings with the elves.

Ogres have—always battle, Graak grunted. He pulled out the remains of a broken arrow that was tucked into his belt and offered it to her. This time they were miners setting up a new camp. Elves attacked for no reason.

Aleena stepped forward and reached for the arrow. May I? she asked, glancing at Rosalyn first and then Graak. He thrust it towards her and let her have it. She studied the arrow's point and frowned. They don't use bladed tips on their arrows?

Graak snarled and said, No. Never have, always like these.

How many?

Graak shrugged. Seven of my people.

Were they from your tribe? Rosalyn asked.

He shook his head. No, different tribes, but ogres. Your people.

The queen smiled. I'm proud of you, Graak. You've come a long ways in a short time, acknowledging the great good we do here. Yes, this attack must not go unavenged.

No sign of the elves, save the arrow? Aleena asked.

Blood on rocks and weapons, Graak said. They took their dead with them.

Rosalyn frowned and then nodded. Gather a raiding party. You're not to destroy their homes or land, but I expect seven dead elves before you return.

Your Majesty, perhaps this is a misunderstanding? Aleena suggested.

Rosalyn turned to her and tilted her head. Her hair, once full and vibrant, fell in loose strands around her skeletal face. A misunderstanding? They have invaded my realm and butchered my people. This cannot be allowed! They will know that we will retaliate!

Aleena pressed her lips together for a moment and then said, Let me go with them. Before more blood is shed, let me talk to them. Perhaps further harm can be avoided.

Rosalyn studied her with eyes that looked deep and haunted. What does the church of Leander care for the lives of elves?

Saint Leander cares for the lives of all who would embrace the light, Aleena said. There is never a good time for war, but with your nation still a fledgling, I think this would be a horrible time to be so diverted.

Graak snarled. We would crush them!

Rosalyn raised her hand to silence the massive warrior. Dame Aleena speaks the truth. Your men are needed, keeping the peace among our people as they learn to get along. If we are distracted, others who do not trust or understand us might seek to gain in our moment of need. The barbarians and the dwarves, in particular, I do not trust. They refuse my emissaries.

Have you sent an ambassador to the elves? Aleena asked.

Rosalyn shook her head. I have not. I paid them no mind since they are a small people I believed more concerned with frolicking in the woods than in worldly affairs.

Then I will serve as your messenger and, hopefully, a harbinger of peace.

Rosalyn smirked. Perhaps you shall. But if you are met with steel instead of wine, can I trust you to take the right action?

Graak's knuckles popped as he clenched his fists for emphasis.

Aleena nodded. Seven elven heads will fall, she promised.

Rosalyn smiled. Go then, Dame Aleena, and may you and Graak have the blessings of the saints on your journey.

Chapter 2

You've been too quiet since we found Namitus, Patrina said to her betrothed.

Alto stared into the water and kept his pole at the ready in case the barge they'd taken veered too close to the northern edge of the river and risked running aground. He grunted.

Damn your eyes, Alto! Patrina snapped at him. Talk to me! Tell me what your plan is? We can't just walk into the palace and ask for her!

Alto shrugged. Found out where they'd been taken that way.

That's why we can't do it again, Patrina hissed. She stepped in front of him and grabbed his pole. By the saints, I could strip my armor off and you'd still not see me!

I would! Garrick called from the other side of the barge where he was performing the same task Alto did.

Mind your pole! Patrina snapped at him.

I could use some help, the massive northerner called back. Care to help me with my pole? You'll need to use both hands.

Patrina rolled her eyes and ignored the snickers from their companions. She continued to stare at Alto and then reached up to rub her hand on the scruff of his cheek. My lord, Caitlyn isn't the only one who needs you. Remember that.

Alto turned to meet her gaze. His eyes focused and he nodded. Of course. I'm just—wait, what did you call me?

My lord, Patrina said. You are Lord Alto, even if Rockwood is not yet rebuilt. You are its thane.

But you're a princess—

Aleena scowled. I'm the jarl's daughter, but when we're wed, you'll stand to inherit. You are my lord and someday—soon, I hope—my husband.

Alto blinked and nodded. I hope so too, he offered.

Patrina smiled and leaned into him to hug him. Alto wrapped an arm around her while he held the pole in his other hand. Patrina glanced over and saw the others watching them. Her eyes fell on Garrick last and she said, See, Garrick, a real man can hold his pole in one hand!

A few chuckles and gasps arose from the rest of the unlikely heroes who followed Alto. Garrick, not to be outdone, smirked and said, If it's a shorter rod you seek, that's fine. My people are known for their wood.

Namitus, still not recovered from his ordeal as a prisoner of the Order of the Dragon, laughed hard enough to launch himself into a coughing fit. Karthor, the priest of Leander and arguably Alto's closest friend, hurried to check on the man.

I judge we'll reach Mira by mid-afternoon tomorrow, assuming we rest the night out, the group's wizard, Kar, said while judging the sun in the west. Hottest part of the day. A fine time to be stuck in that infernal city.

Karthor glanced up at his father after channeling some of his divine energy into the rogue to settle his coughing down. I thought you liked Mira because of all the wizards there?

Bah, they're like old women gossiping and fighting most of the time, Kar muttered. He puffed on his pipe and fiddled with something in one of his pouches absentmindedly.

You seemed to get on well enough with that witch we visited, Carson, the group's newest member, said.

A smile twisted Kar's lips up around his pipe. He cleared his throat and sent a disapproving glance at the woodsman. Mind your own affairs, young man!

Or you'll turn me into a frog?

No, a sheep. Then you'll have nowhere to run to escape Garrick when he gets that look in his eye!

The companions, even Alto, dissolved into laughter. After a few moments, Garrick stopped laughing and glared at the wizard.

So what is your plan? Kar asked Alto as the members of the Band of the Dying Dragon settled down.

Do they know what we've done? Alto asked.

Mordrim belted out a hearty laugh and said, Are ya daft? We killed their pet dragon and when he fell off the mountain, the tremors could be felt for miles!

Some pet, Garrick muttered.

Aye, that was no pet. Myskrakoth was their deity in the flesh, Kar said. "And just as the mountains had been abandoned by all but the scavengers and the dwarves of the