Beguiler: Book 2 of the Spear Series

By J D. Skjoldal

Within every young man is a battle waging. A fight between two Wolfen beasts, One Good and the other pure Evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524547806

J D. Skjoldal

J. D. Skjoldal has tackled obstacles since birth. Born with hydrocephalous, J. D. went on to defy the odds stacked against him. Early in 2004, J. D. was in a car accident where the car rolled end for end two and a half times. The very next day he baffled would be condolences when he answered the phone and each person responded, “The news said you were dead.” He also sustained a work injury in which he de-gloved his foot. As a result, the doctors told him he would probably never walk again. He does a lot of walking these days, as he assists his father on their family farm, near Elgin, N.D. He is also active in his church as a youth and children’s pastor and has filled this role since 2003. His first novel, and the sequel to the BEGUILER, SPEAR, was released in 2014. Prior to the release of his first novel, J.D. met the love of his life on a dating website, christianmingle.com. They married in 2015, and he and his wife currently reside in Mott, N.D.

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Copyright © 2016 by J D. Skjoldal.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5245-4781-3

      eBook         978-1-5245-4780-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 12/19/2016

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1   The First Gathering

Chapter 2   Farewell

Chapter 3   Mind’s Eye

Chapter 4   Creation’s Dawn

Chapter 5   Legends and Warlords

Chapter 6   The Challenge

Chapter 7   The Disorder of the Seer

Chapter 8   Black Beard

Chapter 9   Sorrow’s Tide

Chapter 10   Masked Truths

Chapter 11   Allegations of Allegiance

Chapter 12   Passage of Time

Chapter 13   Hope’s Beacon

Prologue

The Scribe’s Tale

Free will

The ability to act at one’s own discretion.

Discretion, the freedom to decide what should be done in a particular situation.

If one did not trust that Elyon’s ways are higher than ours, one might wonder what Elyon was thinking as he gifted creation with this gift not once, but twice.

The following account is the human capacity for free will, and the consequences it leaves behind.

Chapter One

The First Gathering

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

—Nelson Mandela

Syre examines his surroundings, covering his nose and mouth with a portion of his commander cloak. Wrinkling his nose in disgust as the pungent stench of decay hung thick in the air. Raven’s Dome, a vexatious place plagued by innumerable signs of death and decay. Unforgiving thorn bushes weaved in around and down the area of the dome. This place is well-known throughout both kingdoms; however, what lies beneath its thorny crest … that is an entirely different matter.

These and many more had been his first thoughts upon his first visitation to this troubling landmark, and yet even now after so many years of secret gatherings, it seemed as welcoming as any place one might call home.

He was so consumed that his warrior senses were distracted enough not to sense the presence of someone lurking in the shadows.

It does this withered heart well to see you again, my young Sentinel.

A raspy, haggard voice sounds in the darkness as the decaying frame of Emissary Shylon extended its feeble hand which, in Syre’s mind, carried more resemblance to that of a frail tree branch being tossed about in the breeze than that of an actual man’s hand. Nevertheless, this is what the Emissary had to offer out in greeting.

Syre observed his decrepit frame as it quaked under what he suspected might be the weight of the cloak he chose to wear on that particular day as he balanced awkwardly upon a seemingly slightly sturdier cane.

Shylon directed his greeting toward his young apprentice, Syre, approaching him in the dimly lit corridor that led down to the gathering of the council under Raven’s Dome. Pulling a narrow thorn-laden entrance door, the pair were immediately taken back by an oppressive, unseen force that gripped the lungs of the pair like hands of a camouflaged foe caused by the stifling air as they lumbered down through the dancing luster of the candlesque torch-lit corridor toward the first of their gatherings to lay out the plans to unite the Outlan’s tribes.

The narrow corridor wound and bent for several paces as the pair went slowly along, but then it finally opened into the dome itself. The hidden gathering place of Syre’s children in times of celebration and quarrel. An amphitheater adorned with pillars stretching every ten feet around the area of the space. Benches etched into the sidewalls with each assigned to its own representatives. Syre looked to each of these tribes in awe and bewilderment as they each had their own look and their very different languages but still held to the same principles as he.

Now it had often been cause for debate—in hushed tones before and even now so many years after the kingdom’s plight, the idea of the king having knowledge of Syre’s truest and innermost desires. And if indeed the king had foreseen the inner workings of Syre’s heart, why then would he place him in such a position of power? Only Elyon knows.

Chapter Two

Farewell

Elyon chose in his infinite wisdom to place the head facing the front, not the back so we could see where we are going, Not where we have been.

Laying the final stone upon the last of the shallow graves of his compatriots, he realized that he had taken the covering stones from the scorched and broken stones that lay among the wreckage of the king’s citadel, the decimated beacon of the kingdom that stood at the top of the hill. The scorched and broken wall stones that had come crashing down around him seemingly just as quickly as they had been built.

As he turned and viewed the final resting place of his friends, the weight of all of that had happened dropped him to his knees in overwhelming despair. His hands rested heavily upon the headstone of the last grave he placed, the king’s headstone. His mind’s eye crafts the image of his friend smiling that warm smile he had seen so many times before when they were both younger men and he had decided to side with the king, and they became brothers.

He buries his chin deep into his chest and wept bitterly as he places his right hand upon the headstone of his beloved sister, Forgive me, my sister. The accumulation of all that had happened weighed so heavily upon his mind and body that his head became so heavy upon his shoulders that he could no longer hold it up as it buried deeply into his chest and bitter tears streamed down the warrior’s creased face.

Finally able to gain himself once more, he made a decision, Though I have failed you in the protection of your family in the past, I will make things right and see your kingdom restored in this life.

With new promise as well as a renewed sense of purpose, newfound purpose, the warrior took up his blade, covered his face, dropped his armor, along with anything that linked him to the past, and began anew. The beautiful grass covered slopes that had once surrounded the valley were barren and covered in ash.

He scaled the steep hills of the valley that encased the castle and reached the peak, and though he tried to go forward, he could not help himself but to turn back one last time to say good-bye. When he turned and surveyed the valley below, the sun began to sink slowly from the skyline to the horizon. The warrior became entranced with the images his mind slowly began rebuilding all that had once been, and made it so once again, also allowing phantoms of the past to be made flesh once