Six Swords, One Skeleton and a Sewer (Prequel to The Horrors of Bond Trilogy)

By Ty Johnston

Corporal Lidra doesn't care much for her job in the Bond City Guard, but when an ancient temple is unearthed, she does her duty and leads a squad of five into the depths of the city.

What she and her fellow guards discover lurking beneath the streets is the hint of a mystery they might only barely survive, let alone try to understand.

But in the grand tradition of Bond's best and brightest, those who serve and protect as long as they're getting paid and allowed a few daily mugs of ale, the corporal and her fellows do what they do best.

And what would that be? It's simple. If you can't understand it, kill it, and if you can't kill it, stomp it flat until it's busted and broken and oozing. After all, it's just another day on the job for Bond's protectors, and the ale's getting warm.

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This short story takes place within the same world as that of the author's other fantasy writings. Hopefully you will find a little humor here, just a little, and a decent enough tale in this short story of 10,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ty Johnston
• Release date: Sep 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466014107

Ty Johnston

Originally from Kentucky, Ty Johnston is a former newspaper journalist. He lives in North Carolina with loving memories of his late wife.Blog: tyjohnston.blogspot.com

Book preview

Six Swords, One Skeleton and a Sewer

Prequel to The Horrors of Bond Trilogy

The Ursian Chronicles

by Ty Johnston

a Monumental Works Group author

visit the author’s website: tyjohnston.blogspot.com

for Moose

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1,989 years After Ashal (A.A.)

On your feet, corporal.

Lidra hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Honest. There were no regulations against dice and cards, but that didn’t stop her from stuffing the small copper box containing both beneath the mattress of her bunk and jumping to her feet as the sergeant glared down at her.

The circle of soldiers who had been sitting around her vanished, suddenly finding boots to polish, beds to make, floors to sweep. Even Swish, who had been sitting across from Lidra on his own bunk, had suddenly gained interest in straightening the contents of his footlocker.

Yes, sergeant, Lidra snapped as she came to her feet.

Sergeant Rendrell grinned down at her, if that crooked, toothless feature on his lips could be called a grin. He towered over her, his shadow stretching across the barracks floor to cover Lidra and her bed. Been havin’ a little fun, I see.

She looked straight ahead at his chain-clad chest. Nothing inappropriate, sergeant.

Rendrell grunted. Uh huh. Sure.

Then he didn’t say anything else. Which worried Lidra. When Rendrell was quiet, that was the time for concern. The sergeant wasn’t the brightest of men, but he made up for his lack of intelligence with a malicious streak the officers seemed to love for some reason. Maybe the brass liked the way he always took on the worst jobs, then handed them out to those in his command.

Uh, sergeant?

Shut up, corporal, the big man said. I’m thinking here.

She snapped her lips closed. No reason to draw his ire. He wasn’t brutal, never kicked or beat his own soldiers, but he had a habit of finding the worst duties needing performed. And, of course, he never personally took part in them.

Finally, he chuckled. I been lookin’ for you, corporal.

Obviously. Yes, sergeant?

You know that old underground building they just discovered on the north side of town?

Lidra nodded. She was familiar with the events. Some rich merchant had torn up a garden while having a gazebo or something built. The workers had unearthed a stone staircase or something that