By The Sword's Edge (Medieval Action & Adventure)

By Mark Lord

When the cut from the blade runs deep - You need a heart of Stone

In 1370 two families are thrust together by the harsh realities of war. Lady d’Aubray holds Sarbrook castle, but has sold nearly everything to pay the ransom of her husband, who was captured in France over a decade ago. Eolande d’Aubray, the missing lord’s daughter, is desperate for her father to return. She remembers little of him, but she does know that he is the only man who can rescue her from an unwanted marriage.

William Stone has bought much of the d’Aubray estate having made a fortune as a cloth merchant, and is looking forward to seeing his two sons move up in the world. For his eldest, Richard, he hopes to make squire to Sir Robert Knolles, commander of the English army set to invade France this summer, as long as he can pay the consideration demanded by Knolles. But when Knolles and his ambitious captain, Minsterworth, visit the Stone’s to agree their terms, a tragic series of events destroys the Stone’s world forever.

For Richard Stone there is only one place to find peace.

In war.

By The Sword’s Edge is the first volume of Stonehearted, a serialized novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alt Hist Press
• Release date: Mar 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301579204

Mark Lord

Mark Lord studied Medieval Studies at the University of Birmingham and wrote his M. Phil. Thesis on Medieval Alliterative Poetry. Since then he has worked in publishing and writes historical fiction, fantasy and science fiction in his spare time.Mark is the author of the novels Hell has its Demons, The Return of the Free and numerous short stories. He is also editor of the popular Alt Hist magazine - one of the few literary magazines to focus exclusively on historical fiction and alternate history.He lives in Hertfordshire with his family.

Book preview

By The Sword’s Edge

MARK LORD

Copyright © 2013 Mark Lord

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Mark Lord on Smashwords

By The Sword’s Edge

http://marklord.info

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 ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

1

He’s an arrogant prick! shouted Eolande from underneath the hedgerow. Her hand clenched into a fist as she said it.

He may well be, but aren’t they all, these men, Joan, her maid called back. Now will you come out of there?

I will not, not until he says sorry to me.

And how am I to get a sorry out of Richard Stone for you? asked Joan.

By squeezing him by the stones perhaps? said Eolande in a sly voice. She rubbed the thumb of her hand against her palm and enjoyed the feel of dry skin rubbing against skin.

You are wicked! said Joan and with that a stick appeared in front of where Eolande lay and pushed back the leaves of the hedge until Eolande could see Joan’s hitched up skirts and her knobbly knees.

Joan prodded Eolande with her stick. Look at the dust on you. I’m going to have to beat it off.

Can’t you wash it? said Eolande. She dragged herself from the dusty earth underneath the hedge and rolled giggling onto the lawn, or what there was left of it. It had been a very dry May and June was following suit. Already they had to use the well instead of the rain-barrels for their water.

Wash it? Joan poked Eolande again. Up with you girl, don’t make it worse. And what would you wear while it dried?

The red dress, of course, said Eolande. She raised herself on her haunches and rocked herself to her feet.

Put that on, said Joan passing her hood to her. The red dress you grew out of last year. You’re about done growing I hope, but there’s no more clothes to wear. A full suit of clothes for a lady like you, well that would cost forty shillings to make you look presentable.

Why do I need to look presentable? It’s not as if mother is about to take me to court, Eolande said. Her mouth turned from a grin to a bitter frown. We don’t even make it to Lynn because of the cost of the inns.

What’s in Lynn! said Joan, huffing.

You’re right, just the Stones and their kind selling salt fish and wool. I don’t want to go to Lynn. But what I’m trying to say is that we don’t go anywhere ever.

Joan laid a hand on Eolande’s shoulder. And you know why, my dear.

Eolande knocked Joan’s hand aside and the old lady stumbled a moment and then caught her balance by planting the end of her stick in the dusty turf.

I’m sorry … I … and then Eolande turned and ran across the grass past the dried up herb beds and skipped, lifting her skirts, over the broken bricks of the garden wall towards the stables. I’ll leave my dress for you to wash, she shouted back, feeling guilty for leaving the old woman more work, but she couldn’t face it anymore. She had to be out of the confines of Sarbrook castle.

Behind her in the garden she heard Joan shout. Something about a feast. More nagging. She was best out of there now before steam boiled out of her ears. If it wasn’t her mother, it was Joan getting at her. Got to be presentable? What was that? Some veiled accusation to her to marry?

She lifted the gown and the heavy mantle over her head until she was just wearing a linen shift. Thank Mary the bleeding had stopped a few days ago, or she would never have thought about riding today. She left the dress where it fell and reached up to move a loose stone out of the stable wall. Behind she extracted riding breeches, a shirt, a leather jerkin, boots

Reviews for By The Sword's Edge (Medieval Action & Adventure)

[literarychanteuse · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This short story with a historical setting had two elements that stuck out in my mind, rich characters and an engaging story which truly develops as it continues. Disheartened Eolande is feisty and admirable. Discovering she is the pawn in a man's game just adds fuel to the fire. The rogue is shrewd worthy of the title and yet...the reader is drawn to see his gallant side. A magnetism that draws you in. The first story of a collection that I am looking forward to reading more of. I received a copy in exchange for an honest review.