The Crossing of Ways: The Song of Amhar, #4

By Martin Swinford

"War is coming!"
"War?"
"Dark and bloody war! War in your world and in mine..."
 

Scarred by his adventures, Luan returns to The Guild of the Klaideem, hoping that he can forget the past and focus on his training. But Brenn is missing and Luan cannot leave him to his fate, and when Luan and Fin are attacked by a mysterious adversary they find themselves pulled into a conflict that stretches across the spirit world and their own.

 

The Crossing of Ways is the fourth instalment in the Song of Amhar fantasy series. Set in an alternate Iron Age where the world of the spirit is always close by, the series follows the adventures of Luan, a boy training to become one of the Klaideem, elite warriors who dedicate their life to the service of the kingdom.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gable Press
• Release date: Apr 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201661793

Martin Swinford

Martin Swinford is jointly owned by three cats who, when he has fulfilled their every need, allow him to write, paint, and read. He lives in Lincolnshire, England with his family who work tirelessly to keep him from getting too weird. In the time that’s left he teaches Psychology and Mathematics. His biggest fear is getting bored. Martin is the author of The Song Of Amhar Series, consisting of The Path of Swords, The Guild Of Warriors, The Arena of Lost Souls and The Crossing of Ways. He is currently working on an untitled fifth book. He has also completed a Science Fiction novel, Thus Falls the Shadow, and Who Runs From Heaven, a Sci Fi collection.

Book preview

The Farm

In the gloom of the gathering dusk, the window was a glittering eye. The light hinted at warmth and comfort, a place of safety, a home.

But the darkness was coming and safety an illusion.

In the wood above the farm the men watched. They had watched all day, watched as the workers arrived, watched as the girl fed them at noon, and watched still as the workers put away their tools and left. Still they watched. It was nearly time.

The leader reached for the dagger at his belt, sliding it silently from the scabbard. He tested the edge with his thumb, nodded to himself, and then cut a slice from the hunk of cured meat he carried in his pouch. He was always hungry, especially when he was working. He chewed the meat slowly, savouring the smoky flavour, prolonging the enjoyment until he finally swallowed. He looked down at the farm now barely visible in the darkness. Now it was time.

His instructions had been simple: kill them all and do it slowly, make an example of them. He smiled. Always nice to get some fun now and then, and this job was an easy one at that. Just a girl and an old man, and him half crippled. He signalled to the two men lying in the grass behind him and set off down the hill.

He moved quietly for a big man, slipping between the pools of deepest shadow, watching the building for any signs of life. Despite himself, his pulse quickened over the last few paces. It was always the same, no matter that he’d done it many times before, he always felt like someone was watching him. He told himself it was a good thing, that it made him careful, kept him alive, but he still didn’t enjoy the feeling. It was with relief that he reached the side of the house and pressed himself against the rough wood. Moments later the others joined him.

He had picked his spot well, just back from the corner of the house and close to the window. He took a careful step and peered through a chink in the badly made shutter. From this vantage point he had a perfect view of the room that took up this end of the house. The room contained a hearth, table, a couple of chairs and, against the far wall, a large bed. He nodded to himself, like most of the larger farms it was split in two with one end for the folk who lived there and the other for the animals. He thought of the homestead where he lived as a child, where the cows and sheep came in with the family. Even now it came back to him, the soft noises of the animals and the sweet smell of warm dung.

The girl was chopping some vegetables at the table and as he watched she gathered them in her apron and carried them to the cauldron that hung over the fire. He could see no one else which meant the old man must be with the animals. He signalled to his comrades who slipped away around the back of the house. They could have the cripple and leave the girl to him. He licked his lips at the thought.

It was only a few paces to the door. He paused, listened for a moment, and then took a step back. His kick sent the door flying to slam back against the wall. The girl screamed, a scream that sent a wave of pleasure coursing through him. He grinned then, and stepped into the room, dagger in hand. A shout and a cry came from the back of the house, telling him that his men were at work. They could have their fun, just as he would have his.

Don’t scream Sweetheart, he said as he sidled towards her. I’m not going to hurt you.

Her eyes showed disbelief, but she stopped screaming nonetheless.

At least, he added, "I won’t hurt you if you’re nice to me!" He grinned again. The girl backed away, almost as if she were trying to hide.

You won’t find anywhere, Sweetheart, he purred, and there’s no one to come to your rescue. 

Don’t be so sure!

He turned, startled by the gruff voice behind him. The barrel-chested man stood in the doorway, hefting a solid stave of wood in his one hand.

What do you think you’re going to do, old cripple? he said, drawing his sword.

Well, the one-armed man replied, I’ve stomped your men into the ground, and I was going to stomp on you as well, but I think the girl’s got other plans!

What?

He whirled round, and had just enough time to see the girl’s ferocious grin before the cooking pot connected with his head.

Chapter One

L ook where yer goin ' yer great oaf!

Luan pulled desperately at his horse's reins causing the beast to skitter sideways, narrowly avoiding the man who stood, hands on hips, in the middle of the path.

Sorry, Luan called out as he struggled to get his horse under control. It was a cantankerous beast at the best of times, and now it stamped and shook its head as it tried to get away. Luan walked it around in a circle before bringing it back to face the stranger.

Sorry, he said again, I didn't see you there.

So yer sayin' that I'm small now is it?

No! Not at all!

Hmmph. The man glared up at Luan, his eyes bright beneath bushy eyebrows. Luan looked back, unsure of what to say and realised that this was quite the strangest looking man he had ever met. For a start he was actually very small, much shorter than Luan himself. He was wearing blue breeches tucked into polished black boots and a quartered red and yellow shirt over which spilled his voluminous beard. His skin was the colour of polished oak and his hair was a deep russet, curling out from under a maroon cap.

What's the matter? the little man asked. You never seen one of the Fiabaigin before? An’ you a traveller in our world by all accounts!

I don't think I have. The man's words confirmed Luan's suspicions. What do you mean your world?

What do I mean? the man barked. I mean Fardach Sionna of course

Fardach Sionna?

Aye, my world, the home of wisdom.

You mean the spirit world?

Aye, I do! An I'm startin' to think I got the wrong man! Are you the Leantor-Cosan or what?

Luan straightened in his saddle. Before I answer, he said warily, maybe you should tell me who you are and why you're here. 

Oho! The little man suddenly grinned. Don't get touchy! I'll tell yer alright. He swept his hat from his head and gave a deep bow. Banoghand at your service! Now to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking? He pulled himself up to his fullest height, jammed the hat back on his head and stared intently at Luan.

Luan ap Garioch, of the house of Artran, the boy replied formally.

The Leantor-cosan? Banoghand enquired eagerly.

I have been called that, admitted Luan.

Then I have a message for you. Banoghand paused, his smile having slid away. War is coming.

War?

Dark and bloody war! War in your world and in mine! Fardach Sionna is in peril, the darkness threatens to overcome us. This is the message that you just take!

Take it to where?

You are the Leantor-Cosan, the sword-path follower, you will find the way.

Luan stared at his strange companion, a confused jumble of thoughts stopping his tongue.

What's that? Banoghand pointed over Luan's shoulder. For a moment Luan's attention was distracted. When he looked back, Banoghand was gone.

THE SUN THREADED ITS way through the yellowing leaves to dapple the path with light. The day was warm and Luan's horse flicked his tail at the flies as he trotted through the woods. It should have been a good day to travel, but despite the warmth Luan pulled his cloak closer around him. His encounter with Banoghand had awakened fears that he had hoped were buried for good. His mind played tricks on him, in every shadow lurked a monster, every sound was that of pursuit and he had to fight the urge to kick his horse into a canter. He found himself remembering the journey back from Cy Malg the previous summer, when fear had been their constant companion. Short on supplies and without horses, there had been times when Luan thought that they may not make it at all. They had stayed two days on the cliff by Cy Malg, taking time to bury their dead, and do their best for the wounded. Time in which they hoped Mack would return with Brenn but on the evening of the second day he had still not appeared. They had sat around their meagre fire and argued back and forth, Bridie tearful at the thought of leaving Mack, Fin insistent they set off back, and all the while Drustan sat silent and red eyed, stricken with grief for his dead friend. Finally, Luan had stood and said: We go tomorrow, and then walked away to roll himself in his cloak. He had lain in the dark listening to Bridie's sobs and Fin's soft words of comfort.

The sound of hooves jerked him out of his reverie.

This was not his imagination, there was someone following him.

Luan kicked his heels and urged his horse forward. Over the drumming of its hooves he strained to listen for sounds of pursuit, hoping they would be gone. It was hard to tell, but then it came again, the other horse had also picked up the pace. Luan thought about pushing his horse into a gallop, but knew that it could not last long at that pace. Maybe he could hide, at least give himself the advantage of surprise.

There! A group of trees had grown closer to the path. With a soft word Luan slowed his horse, pulling off the path and coaxing it backward into the shadows.

Shush there, he whispered as the beast nickered softly in protest. Reaching over his shoulder, Luan loosened his sword in its scabbard and waited. He didn't have to wait for long.

With a thunder of hooves, a piebald horse burst through the trees. Clinging precariously to its back was a familiar stocky figure, cursing freely at every jolt.

Fin! Luan shouted joyfully.

Whoa! Fin dug his heels in, pulling frantically on the reins. I said WHOA! The horse immediately planted its front hooves in the ground and dropped its head causing Fin to lurch forwards. He threw his arms desperately around the animal's neck, but this merely slowed his inevitable descent to the ground as he slid slowly round, hung upside down for a moment before landing on his back. The horse whinnied happily and leaned forward to lick Fin's face.

Luan dismounted in a more conventional manner and went over to help his friend up.

Stupid animal, muttered Fin, wiping his face. Luan looked at the horse.

Wait, he said, isn't that...

The horse from our first riding lesson, Fin continued. Yes, our crazy horse master felt we should be together. He said we'd form a perfect partnership.

Really? That doesn't sound like him.

Well his actual words were: 'You clever boy, take clever horse, maybe be clever together hey?' But I knew what he meant.

The two boys smiled at each other.

It's good to see you Fin, Luan said finally. I’ve spent all summer looking forward to the new year, to going back to Sanlynn and starting our training again. But riding on my own, I started to dwell on Cy Malg, couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’m happy we’ll be riding together.

Fin turned slightly pink.

Yes, well. He turned back to his horse. Come on, no point in standing around.

They rode side by side through the woods with Luan mostly listening as Fin recounted various adventures, each one more far-fetched than the last.

We're there any girls in your village that didn't fall in love with you? Luan asked at one point. Fin stopped short and gave Luan a pretend glare.

So how was your summer? he asked. Anyone special you want to tell me about? Luan decided to ignore the second part of the question.

Strange, he replied. That's how my summer was. To be honest I felt like I didn't fit in. Everything seemed smaller, my parents seemed awkward around me. As for my brother... He paused thoughtfully.

I know what you mean, Fin replied. Me and my brothers used to go everywhere together but, I don't know, it was like they were suddenly too young.

Luan nodded. Ban just seemed wary of me, like he didn't trust me anymore.

My Da said it's having killed a man, it changes you. 

Did you tell them all of it?

Most of it, Fin replied. And just my Da, he knows what it's like, been there you see.

You're lucky, said Luan. "I couldn't talk about it. I tried a couple of times but