Prophets of the Northwind

By Elijah Stephens

After the Crusades, a knight enters a magical realm to bring about a new age for humanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elijah Stephens
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781939068323

Book preview

PROPHETS OF THE NORTHWIND

By

Elijah Stephens

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Liquid Heaven Productions™

www.liquidheavenlive.com

Smashwords Edition

Prophets of the Northwind

Copyright © 2012 by Elijah Stephens

All rights reserved. No part of this work of fiction may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Cover by LordHayabusa357 – DeviantArt

www.deviantart.com/lordhayabusa357

Other Quest Fantasy

Pride of the Celts

Ancient Japan / Historical Fiction

The Floating World

Goddess of the Sun

* * * * *

PROPHETS OF THE NORTHWIND

* * * * *

1307 AD – Anatolia (Turkey)

The bright Sun was shining through the clouds as Grayson left his Friesien warhorse. The air was thick with a stew that smelled like parsley and cloves wafting from a thatch hut nearby. He knocked on the door while gripping a dagger under his chainmail. His hair was matted against the scars on his neck when he called out, Roderick, it is time! Even the weather would prefer that we leave this place and the city of Constantine is more than a day’s ride!

Pieces of the roof showered him with dry twigs as the hinge creaked open. A bald man sat at a table, facing away from the entrance. Grayson and the other knights had already packed their supplies for travel, but by the appearance of his home, Roderick wasn’t going anywhere. The despondent fellow looked over his shoulder and said, How can you see the correct path unless you leave it?

Grayson replied, Exile is better than planting roots where you cannot stay.

The world is what you are. The timeless spirit only lives when you accept this.

Reflect the light of divinity back upon itself and you will magnify it, it is only your choice to dwell in sadness that we pray on.

When a baby’s whimper carried from the bedroom, Grayson opened the door and saw a terrified woman cradling an infant with olive skin, the same as her mother’s.

He turned in shock and said, Did you think we would judge you?

Roderick was on his feet quickly with a knife in his hand. Grayson kicked him back against the wall, shaking the frame of the house. After the window burst over the clatter of pottery, with a clean movement Roderick’s dagger left his fingertips. Grayson barely raised his gauntlet in time to avoid getting struck between the eyes. He leaned against the table behind him and swung it by the leg, bringing the full weight of the heavy oak against Roderick. The impact dropped him to the floor, where he reached for his sword.

Grayson lifted the broken wood before it was split in two by a flash of metal. He pinned Roderick’s forearm to immobilize the weapon, then drove an elbow into his chin. Roderick found himself on his knees and finally relented. What choice did I have? They would not let me stay on this land unless I gave them something in return.

You convinced yourself that the Nizari will let you stay?

The sound of a fierce wind carried past the hut. Grayson looked through the cracked window and his stomach dropped. Among the rolling waves of grass, his horse was missing. When his throat constricted under a coarse rope that lifted him off his feet, he tugged the frayed end and pulled the Ismaili assassins down through the roof. As they scrambled for their weapons, he cornered one and dug his knife into the man’s chest.

He tore out the wet blade and saw the other struggling with Roderick, wrapped in cloth from head to toe. Grayson impaled the Asasiyun, who blew a dense red powder into his face. With the injured man trapped against the door, he asked, How many of you are coming for us?

Despite the metal puncturing his stomach, his eyes revealed the wrinkled corners of a smile. The Ismaili stepped backwards and disappeared through the door. Grayson pulled his sword from the wood and bent the panels with a hard kick. The bedroom was empty except for the fading echo of a crying baby.

Roderick was coughing on the ground with a curved dagger between his ribs. His breath came in weak intervals, and feeling guilty for what he had unleashed upon his fellow knights sparked the sorrow in his eyes when he said, Please don’t tell the others.

Grayson had no forgiveness to offer, Roderick’s punishment had already been exacted. The only honor in defeat is if we do not forget what good we can still accomplish, he said.

He stayed with his friend until he died, then he found his Friesien with the assassins’ horses tied up in the woods and left on a path that would cover his tracks. He kept his promise when he returned to the others with a lie that Roderick could not be found.

* * * * *

The mountains were holding back rainclouds that followed the procession of knights. Their carts were bouncing on uneven wheels and the sound was a drumming heartbeat in the wilderness. Two of them on horseback allowed the attendants to continue forward. Under their chainmail, the soldiers wore black mantles with a red cross down the center. They were armed with swords and daggers as they looked back with