Line in the Sand, The Lich War Series

By KD Nielson

"Just as the other books in the series so skilfully accomplish, this third book, A Line in the Sand carries the plot effortlessly through a beautifully detailed and tenderly expressed terrain of fantasy........" - GoodbooksToday.com Reviews

The war now over, it should have been time to recoup, recover, and heal old injuries. But without warning, Devron makes his final move: the Emperor of the Wild Elf nation is killed in an ambush and the first sword of power is captured. The Drow Civil war finally won, but with the victory, their sword is lost as well. Then the final blow falls when the High Elf Prince searches for a traitor, but instead, he is attacked and his sword is stolen. All begins to seem lost as Queen Cassandra is drawn into the Shadow Realm with those who have been touched by the deadly Shadow Magic.
At last the evil Lich Devron has gained possession of the three swords of power. Finally he can remake the world the way he wants, removing those who have constantly plagued him. The stage is set. The pieces are in place. The people of Menel Fenn hold their breath. The evil Lich Devron begins the ritual ... the air shimmers ... he speaks his wish ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: KD Nielson
• Release date: May 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476282657

KD Nielson

Fantasy Writer Hi all, this is K.D. Nielson ... and welcome to my .... mind. I am a full time writer in search of a publisher, so I have to work at my day job to pay the bills. I have been writing and telling stories now for over 30 years. Since the 11,000+ earthquakes here in Christchurch, I have been free to indulge in my greatest passion, telling stories, while the city starts to get back on its feet. I have drawn on my experiences these past months (seems like years) of awful earthquakes, the years serving as a prison officer, and my time in the US Navy as part of Operation Deep Freeze, making seven deployments to Antarctica. Yes, in spite of everything, I am still sane. I have drawn on my daily experiences in these jobs and the different facets of everyday life, as material for my books. I have a wealth of intrigue, love, betrayal, war and heroic deeds just waiting for an avid reader. I have finished several books in the world I have created. They are just waiting to be discovered by that right someone, hopefully a publisher. All my books are available on Amazon through Kindle, and Createspace's print on demand. I am married to a lovely English girl, a schoolteacher, and we have three sons, one which seems to keep coming back, kind of cramps my style. My wife has donated (sometimes gang pressed might be more like it) hours of her valuable time helping me with editing and reading manuscripts, and being very patient with all my questions, some of them might be, well ... dumb. I have also been working with a like-minded friend who is a fantasy fan and a very good writer in her own right. She is also a renowned artist and in conjunction with another project connected to my books, she is working on sketches of the characters and creatures of my world. For more information on my books go to http://www.theworldsofkdnielson.com Thank you for bearing with me while I rabbit on ... I challenge you, step into my mind ....you might like it so much ... you may not want to leave. KD Nielson

Book preview

Line in the Sand

Book Three of the Lich War Series

By K. D. Nielson

Copyright 2012 K. D. Nielson

Published on Smashwords

Formatted by eBooksMade4You

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Cover by Amanda L. Matthews from design studios

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my loving and long suffering wife, Anita. The countless hours I drafted her into helping me are truly appreciated.

Also I would like to thank Debs, a kindred spirit who untiringly read the many versions, and lovingly designed the cover.

Without all the help this book would not have made it.

The last person I would like to thank is Dale Caroline Russell for her input to my books and for writing the back cover write-up.

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Other books by KD Nielson

The Lich War Series

Amberwine

Cassandra of Cr' Mere

A Line in the Sand

Tales of Menel Fenn

Osey

Fool's Quest

The Confederation Kingdoms of Bree

Mage's Mistake

Ghost Dancer

Sand Racer

DSMR Series

Through The Portal

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CONTENTS

Prologue

The Hunted

Kathy Alexander

Emily

In Pursuit of the Sword

Simon Francis del Montego

Vanwa Hir

A Trap Well Set

Shadow Magic

Civil War

The Waste Lands

Severix

Cyclops, Smash and the Holy Book

The Fall of Devron

End Game

Aftermath

About the Author

In The Beginning

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Prologue

Commander Bolinor d’Arcy walked slowly through the old hill fort. His booted foot kicked something buried in the ground. He bent and cleared away the layers of grime and found a four-inch metal figure. The uniformed man was slightly rusted. Bolinor brushed away the dirt from the surrounding area and found five more of the little soldiers. The wind in the exposed ruins blew in sporadic bursts. Tiny dust devils chased each other around the man’s boots. Bolinor’s shoulder length blond hair danced along with the tiny earth creatures. The Commander smiled as he remembered his best friend, ten-year-old Drury Gains. The Commander’s family had owned the estate, while Drury’s family was workers in the vineyards. The d’Arcys came to the estate a number of times during the year. Matthew, the Commander’s eldest brother, never liked the place so he was not there that fateful day. Bolinor straightened, suddenly sad. His towering frame stiffened as he headed down to the remains of the winery. The once lush thriving grapevines were withered and dead. The main house had been burnt, and time had not been kind to the out buildings; the beautiful estate was lifeless.

In idyllic summers, the three children spent hours together. They explored the area, rode horses in the hills, swam in the sea and fished in the lakes and ponds. Much to the two boys’ disgust Bolinor’s tomboy sister, Elizabeth, was the better rider and seemed to know the secret places the fish hid in during the hot part of the day. It was more than once that she taunted the two boys with her booty, and ended up being thrown in the water with an indignant squeal. It usually finished with the two boys jumping in as well, where they all would laugh and shriek. They would sit in the apple trees eating the juicy red fruit. The boys had pretended they were soldiers in the fort fighting off countless attacks from numerous pretend antagonists, more often as not commanded by the infamous General Lizzy.

Bolinor’s sister had dogged the two boys. Elizabeth Jane was one year younger, and she had followed the two everywhere. She had inherited her mother’s fiery red hair, and her temperament, easy going but if you crossed her she would explode, making everyone in range duck for cover. Bolinor remembered Lizzy well; her hair hung down to her shoulders and was silky and bouncy. Of his three sisters, Bolinor got along with her the best. They had the same interests, swimming and riding, and the love of the wild unexplored places. Like Bolinor, Elizabeth was a quick learner with all manner of weapons. Even at nine years old she showed promise with a bow.

In Bolinor’s mind’s eye he could see everything from that fateful day. The two boys had been hiding in the old ruins being stalked by Lizzy. Suddenly, they were aware of screaming, and wailing echoing up to them. The three horrified youngsters watched with stunned disbelief as the smoke started to curl from the estate roof.

Look! Raiders in the cove! Elizabeth exclaimed in shocked incredulity.

Bolinor was off and running down the hill, his short legs pumping frantically, pushed on by the growing fear, that his family was gone. That thought made his heart roar like thunder; Drury’s bare feet fell rhythmically close behind. Both boys still had the wooden swords they were playing with. Squawking with indignation, and fear at being left by herself at a time like this, the girl was off. Running hard, at times struggling to maintain her balance in the head long dash, he frequently stumbled as thorns and pebbles bit cruelly into her bare feet, or scratched her skinny legs. As they charged into the compound, a good ten minutes later, some of the tall blond, bare-chested men were already loading loot and captured women into their long boats. Bolinor heard the screams from his two sisters as they were being dragged away by a giant. As the trio stopped to take stock, Elizabeth was grabbed from behind; a raider picked her up by the waist, and started for the beach. The girl kicked backward with hard brutal force. He dropped her, and his sword, then clutching his groin, fell into the sand gasping for breath. Bolinor jumped for the fallen sword, kicking the raider in the face as he passed the squirming man on the ground. He desperately swung the heavy sword at the raider that was carrying his two sisters toward the long boats; the sword bit deep into the giant’s side. The wounded raider yelled out in agony. Dropping Jasmine he drew his sword, and swung instinctively, reacting to the attack. Bolinor dodged most of the strike but the tip of the weapon caught him along the face, drawing a thin line from his ear to temple. Bolinor cried out in pain and fell to the ground as blood gushed from the wound. The youth lay there defeated, shamed as he watched the two girls carried off. Soon there were cries from behind as Elizabeth and Drury were dragged forward, completing Bolinor’s sense of disgrace. It didn’t take long for the rest of the women and children to be captured and loaded into the boats.

Bolinor wearily sat down thinking about the disaster that day. When the Commander had founded the new kingdom, he had named the place Amberwine, the name of the old family estate, in memory of his missing mother and sisters. It seemed the natural choice. Bolinor looked into the storage shed and could see barrels stacked there. The wine was a golden color and looked to be like clear honey; hence the estate had been dubbed the same name as the wine.

It was three days later that the raider fleet ran into bad weather. The holding cells had been smashed open by the mast that broke and fell to the deck demolishing some of the looted cargo. Bolinor and Drury, along with the three sisters, made a break for the side. The crew jumped forward and grabbed the children as they scurried up on deck. The only two to make the sea were Drury and Elizabeth.

For the next seven years Bolinor was worked hard, cutting wood, carrying stones and lugging buckets of water. The hard work toughened the youth, and soon he stood over six feet tall, a rival to most of the raiders. The giant he had stabbed had been attracted to his mother by her beauty and shapely body. He took her to his lodge and bed, thus as far as the rest of the clan was concerned, she was under his protection. So it was natural that over time he befriended the resentful young man. As a result Bolinor grew strong and learned almost everything there was about combat. Bolinor’s thirst for knowledge was never sated. He wanted to discover all he could, so when he did escape, the revenge against these men would be all the sweeter. It would be the giant’s own training that would be used to kill him. Bolinor was livid that his mother would share the bed of their captor so freely. It was only a few years after their capture that Jasmine tried to explain that she did what she had to keep them all alive. However, the sub-chief he had kicked hated the young man and took every chance to belittle, torment and sometimes beat him unmercifully. The barbarian chief knew Bolinor would have to grow up strong and didn’t interfere much with the harsh treatment, only when it became life threatening.

One evening the sub-chief drank himself senseless. He attacked Bolinor and in self-defense the teenager killed the drunk. The man’s brother not content with what had happened waited for his chance for revenge. And then one day, with two friends they trapped Bolinor. The boy fought as best as he could, then he ran. The two men still standing, followed him. Bolinor was cornered on a high suspension swing bridge. Rather than go back and face more torment and abuse, the boy jumped. Three months later, he joined a mercenary group headed south.

Bolinor had no word about his family for years until a few weeks ago when, as part of an allied army defending the Grand Duchy of Cr’Mere they had helped an Imperial Penal Battalion desert. The force concerned had been made up of slaves and convicts. Bolinor had found two of his sisters there. Jasmine was in command of the army, and his youngest sister had been a common soldier.

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The sun sank below the horizon and the Commander sat near a burning fire. The Koldorian Pathfinder, a cat man, who rode a griffin, had dropped him off, and would not be back till late tomorrow. He had taken a huge personal liberty coming here when the Imperial army still in retreat, hadn’t even cleared the Burning Desert. The wounded were even now being teleported to St. Stevens Abbey where the healers were being gathered. Cassandra should be at the Castle now. No doubt word had spread about him being crowned King. Bolinor grinned wryly remembering when they had fought the Lich in the dragon’s cave and King Argon had been literally incinerated by the Lich’s own fireball. Cassandra had put the Dun-Lyn crown on his head. Bolinor had to admit it had felt good. He sighed, pushed himself to his feet and cast around for some firewood.

Commander Bolinor leaned against a broken tabletop in the gutted estate and absent-mindedly chewed on the jerked beef he had brought with him. His mind wandered in various directions. One minute thinking of the first day he had meet Cassandra, when her ship had barely escaped south from Prince Hayden’s manor. That in turn, lead to the horrid tale she had told him only a few months ago, of the vile and brutal treatment the youngest son of the King of Jasper had inflicted on her. This led the Commander’s thoughts to Harold’s death, when the Brotherhood of the Black Dragon had made a play for the throne of Jasper. In the end, Jeremy DeMonfort, the Queen’s lover had gone with Bolinor to the defeated kingdom of Dun-Lyn looking for Gerald Hiller, the General commanding the army that had invaded Blackwell. Bolinor had flown to Cr’Mere with two hundred Pathfinders, to find his kidnapped wife. The Commander followed his train of thought to the forgotten realm of Koldor. He had been standing on the battlement wall watching as Cassandra destroyed the catapults pounding the dying city. Her intervention, however distasteful to herself, had given the Slavers pause for thought, and enabled the mages time enough to finish teleporting the population to the safety of this world. Now the two rulers, Te-Nar and his mate De Nera, were two of their closest friends.

Then he literally found himself thinking of the Lich Devron. He was a fallen elven paladin, or holy warrior. He had been injured in an attack on the Mystic Isle, thousands of years ago, and had nearly died. Now, consumed with the need for immortality and returning his people to the land he had once ruled, he hunted for three Swords of Power. The weapons were immensely old, even when they were given to the Elven Kings; each sword gave the heir access to a wish spell, one of the most powerful spells a mage could use. The three Elven Kings had left the Grey Kingdom and went on a great adventure with most of their court and retainers. Hundred of men and women had crossed the Rainbow Bridge into this reality. When the Chaos Army attacked the Grey lands, the evil they carried with them corrupted everything elven; their land, the cities and even the elves themselves. They were turned into Chaos spawn. But all this was unknown to the adventurers except that the Bridge, a magical gateway, and the only way home had been despoiled as well. In its place, a destructive whirlpool that destroyed any ship trying to pass, or had the misfortune to be caught in the summer hurricanes and driven south into its mile wide maw, where nothing escaped and where very few survived.

Bolinor looked into his bag and found more jerky and a flask of ale. He heard a faint snap of a twig. Pretending not to have noticed, he slowly inched his hand to his sword where it lay a foot away.

Hello the fire! a voice from the dark called.

Bolinor stood and picked up the sword calling, If you’re a friend you are welcome.

Gladly.

The old man shuffled into the ruined room, moving slowly and with a bit of difficulty, then emerged into the light of the fire. His blue robes were dusty and his bearded face looked worn and tired.

Greetings, I am Bolinor.

The man paused for a second, his head twisted a little in thought. My friends call me Joshua.

He settled and Bolinor handed him the jerky and ale he had just fished out from his bag.

Not your dinner, I hope?

Bolinor smiled and settled back. No, I was just thinking about a bit more, but feel free if you’re hungry.

Joshua grinned and bit into the meat with strong even teeth. Now, let us get introductions right. You would be King Bolinor, formally of Jasper, now living in Amberwine with your lovely wife, Cassandra.

Bolinor felt a stab of alarm. He looked into the darkness to see if the man had friends that might be up to something. Cassandra’s kidnapping was still very fresh on his mind.

The old man laughed, a rich vibrant sound. No Commander. I’m not here to hurt you. Think of me as your conscience. You and your friends have been through a lot. People who have relied on you have died, your family, or what is left of it, reunited. You are wondering if everything is worth it. Joshua leaned forward, his eyes burned with a strange intensity as e looked into Bolinor’s piercing blue ones, and his voice deepened significantly. Everything you do is important. My Master heard you call for help, after you became stuck during the attack on the Keep. You were hiding in a small watercourse from an unknown rider. He gave you the courage to carry on, eventually finding the dragon’s lair.

Bolinor sat back down stunned. His mouth opened but no words came out.

Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But know this. Our world, our very existence is threatened. If you fail, or even if the other two fail in their quests, good will be destroyed and banished from this land. Evil will reign a thousand years. Devron is only one link in a chain of events. I assure you that this is no joke. I have watched you. Bolinor, you are a man of honor, a man true to his convictions, and will stand by his friends. I assure you that the time is coming. Trust in yourself, and know that it is worth it. Everything.

The old man settled back, waiting for it to sink in. Bolinor sat thinking on what the old man had said, for nearly fifteen minutes. He knew in his heart what Joshua claimed was true.

Commander, if you’re wondering if we have done anything to you, the answer is no. You have made all the choices of your own free will. That is something we would never interfere with.

There is something?

Joshua nodded.

My other sister, Elizabeth, and my friend Drury. They made it to the side of the ship, and went into the stormy sea. Did they survive?

The old man looked at Bolinor intently for a minute.

Finally he said, The girl is safe, she made it to land. The lad, I’m sorry to say, died. A creature of the deep attacked them. He gave his life so the girl could get away.

Bolinor sat quietly and stared at the fire. Then softly he said, Drury always wanted to be a hero. We played at it time and time again.

Joshua patted him on the knee. The lad certainly was a hero. You would have been proud of him.

Bolinor grinned sadly. I am.

They heard the sounds of men calling a name from the darkness.

The old man sighed. It seems as if I can’t get any time for myself nowadays.

The Commander commiserated. I think I can understand that.

The old man stood. Just remember, good must win. Don’t doubt yourself. Your instincts have served you well, and they will continue to do so. Now I must go.

Bolinor walked with him to the edge of the ruined wall. There they shook hands, and the old man was swallowed up in the dark as if he had never been there. But the feeling of peace that permeated Bolinor was not something he could ignore.

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The Hunted

The tall woman moved with fluid grace and quiet dignity, through the dark halls of the nearly deserted castle. Her constant companion of late, the Koldorian Pathfinder, V-tur, walked beside her. Unlike other times when she wore her beautiful gowns, she was only wearing her simple adventuring clothes. The leather tunic and woolen pants were tucked into soft knee-high leather boots. The ponytail that held her silky auburn hair fell to the middle of her back. Even the rustic garments couldn’t hide her shapely figure. Cassandra was tired, she felt in need of a hot bath.

V-tur walked sedately beside her. He had been commanded by Bolinor to watch over her. The kidnapping was still very recent in his mind, and the Commander was taking all the precautions he could. Cassandra and Bolinor had helped rescue the Koldorian people from extermination in another reality, where slavers had hunted them. In an incredible event, Cassandra, and other mages like her had saved nearly sixty five thousand people. Now all the Koldorians referred to her as the ‘Fabled Lady.’ Anyone of them would have given their lives for her, and V-tur was greatly honored to be her protector.

A few found his looks peculiar, but now over the last year he was finally accepted. His ears were pointed and high on his head. The nose and mouth were human looking, but were slightly pointed. His eyes, while human shaped, had the slit iris of a cat, and were a distinct yellow. A fine fur, so fine it seemed more like hair, covered his body. What could be seen of his skin had gray tabby coloring, with a faint black stripe. He too was dressed in a simple tunic and knee length wool pants. (A Koldorian never wore any kind of dead, skinned animals.) His shoulder length hair was charcoal black. He still moved a bit stiffly as a result of his encounter with a red dragon.

They rounded a corner and heard the faint sound of someone running ahead, the slap of booted feet on the stone was very distinctive. Without a word, Cassandra stepped behind the cat man. V-tur gave his hands a little shake, and three-inch razor sharp claws sprang from his fingers. His bare feet were light and silent on the hard floor. Cassandra sighed; all she wanted was to lie down. The last couple days with the battle in Cr’Mere, her ancestral home, and the fight on the hilltop in the shadows of the watchtower, had all but exhausted her. But she never hesitated, and followed V-tur. The cat man no longer tried to shield her from danger; she would never permit it. Now he would minimize or neutralize the said trouble.

She looked down the halls, there never seemed to be a guard around when you wanted one. As they crept down the hall she spied a window looking out over the courtyard. The woman carefully peeked out, and saw a shadow scurry into the stables. With a quick whispered word, the two darted off down the corridor. At the top landing they could see the guards in the Grand Hall. They were still at their post, so the intruder must have taken the back stairs that led to the kitchen and then outside.

The tall gangling youth paused in the shadows of the door and peered outside. The sentries in the courtyard and on the walls hadn’t seen him. He went to one of the lanterns hanging from a hook. He could have found his way anywhere he wanted in the stables; he had spent enough time here. However, he didn’t want the girl to become frightened.

"Hayley, can you hear me?’ he whispered fiercely.

A shadow stepped away from the darkness in the remote part of the structure. A horse whinnied as she disturbed him.

Did you bring the food? she asked timidly.

Yes, I got some chicken from the kitchen, and I found a dress for you from one of the servant girls.

Both turned around quickly as V-tur stepped through the door. As swift as Hayley was, the cat man was faster. The young girl cried out in surprised fear as he snared her by the back of the neck. She whirled to fight, but a little pressure with the extended claws was more than enough to quell any thoughts of rebellion.

The boy leaped to her defense. Leave her be, you are hurting her.

Now Cassandra moved into the light. The boy seeing her dropped to his knee. He shook in fear. His Queen had caught him stealing from the kitchen.

Tobias, is it not? Cassandra asked quietly.

Y…yes…yes, my Queen. I am so sorry about the food. Forgive me? General Cagel said if he ever caught us stealing we would be whipped, and set in the streets.

He tried to be brave for his friend’s sake, but he looked pathetic, and Cassandra had to suppress the urge to smile.

The young girl whimpered and sank to her knees. Her thin face was fearful and huge tears filled and spilled over from her wide staring brown eyes.

V-tur, can you let her go? You are scaring the poor girl senseless.

The