Oath Keeper: Inklet, #38

By Amy Laurens

Tired, war-weary and worn, he longs for peace—and home. But the smell of blood reaches him as he travels: a giant, half-dead dragon—and a gang of bandits guarding it. 

He swore to never kill again. 

But once again, he faces a choice. Because today, someone must die. 

A wistful story about promises and peace, and the precarious nature of both. 

Swords & Dragons Fantasy / 1100 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkprint Press
• Release date: Jul 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393193586

Amy Laurens

AMY LAURENS is an Australian author of fantasy fiction for all ages. Her story Bones Of The Sea, about creepy carnivorous mist and bone curses, won the 2021 Aurealis Award for Best Fantasy Novella. Amy has also written the award-winning portal-fantasy Sanctuary series about Edge, a 13-year-old girl forced to move to a small country town because of witness protection (the first book is Where Shadows Rise), the humorous fantasy Kaditeos series, following newly graduated Evil Overlord Mercury as she attempts to acquire a castle, the young adult series Storm Foxes, about love and magic and family in small town Australia, and a whole host of non-fiction, both for writers AND for people who don’t live with constant voices in their heads. Other interesting details? Let’s see. Amy lives with her husband and two kids in suburban Canberra. She used to be a high-school English teacher, and she was once chewed on by a lion. (The two are unrelated. It was her right thumb.) Amy loves chocolate but her body despises it; she has a vegetable garden that mostly thrives on neglect; and owns enough books to be considered a library. Of course. Oh, and she also makes rather fancy cakes in her spare time. She’s on all the usual social media channels as @ByAmyLaurens, but you’ve got the best chance of actually getting a response on Instagram or the contact form on her website. <3

Book preview

Oath Keeper

INKLET #38

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AMY LAURENS

www.InkprintPress.com

Oath Keeper

The metallic scent of blood reached him through the sharpness of the snow. For a moment, his heart leapt and he thought the battle was still raging, the cries of dying men filling his ears and stopping his senses; but no. The mountains up ahead were the foothills of home, and there were no people around, no sounds, no battle cries.

Easing his shoulders under heavy mail—he hadn’t dared leave it behind, old Tom would curse him halfway to the grave if he returned without it—he trudged on.

The path crested and he spotted the source of the blood-scent easily: a great dragon, rear half skinned, muscle and sinew left exposed to the elements. Blood had