Tomb of the Six: The Splintered Land, #0

By Richard Parry

Knight Adept Geneve hunts evil with a skymetal sword.

Getun town might be safe harbor for thieves, but even they don't deserve their doom. Someone's dug up old hate with a new shovel. Sorcerers seven hundred years dead return. Their prize: the land of the living.

Geneve must destroy these powerful mages. If she doesn't, a tyranny the world has forgotten will be unleashed. All she has is her training, blade, and a love-addled fairy as a guide.

It'd take a miracle to save Getun, let alone the kingdom. Pick up this explosive dark fantasy debut today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mondegreen
• Release date: Apr 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9780995141902

Book preview

Tomb of the Six

Tomb of the Six

A Dark Fantasy Adventure

Richard Parry

Mondegreen

Contents

You’re Awesome

Stay Primed

Dramatis Personae

The Quiet Forest

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About the Author

Also by Richard Parry

EXCERPT: Blade of Glass

The Prisoner

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

TOMB OF THE SIX copyright © 2020 Richard Parry.

Cover design copyright © 2020 Vivid Covers.

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All rights reserved.

ISBN-13 ebook: 978-0-9951419-0-2

ISBN-13 audiobook: 978-0-9951419-1-9

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First printing.

No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, Me hearties! commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.

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While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.

Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.

You’re Awesome

You’ve helped a legion of people follow their dreams by buying this book. Cover designers, editors, audio coaches, and hack authors are just a few examples of people who earned coin because of your generosity.

Thank you for supporting this independent work. You kick ass.

Stay Primed

Get updates from Richard Parry:

https://www.mondegreen.co/get-on-the-list/

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You can find out more about him at:

mondegreen.co

For my Rae, always.

Dramatis Personae

Knight Adept Geneve

Geneve

Geneve was raised by the Tresward from age five. She knows no life other than service to the Three gods.

Her skill with her blade Requiem is unparalleled, yet the Storm eludes her. She has mastered all 2,100 patterns handed to humanity by Cophine, Ikmae, and Khiton, but can't change the world with Sway.

She is a Knight Adept, a rank she only holds because she cheated. But as Israel would say, there are no cheaters in war, only the living and the dead. And Geneve wants to live.

Vertiline

Vertiline

Knight Chevalier Vertiline commands the Storm in one hand, the bitter whip of sarcasm in the other.

She's in the Tresward for the wrong reasons, but she's still the second best swordswoman the world has ever seen. If she can hold on to her courage, Vertiline might just stop stupid people from doing stupider things.

If not, well. She wasn't a proper Knight anyway.

Israel

Israel

Israel is a Knight Valiant of the Tresward. He has given his life in service to the Three.

Late to the sash, his skill at arms is only bested by his sense of honor. He is a mentor to Geneve and Vertiline, leading their small band on the Three's business. Israel sees each day as a lesson, if you have the wit to learn.

He has known Vertiline since before their time in the Tresward, their shared past a comfortable cloak between them. Israel accepted Geneve for all her lack of skill with the Storm, showing her the patience the world wouldn’t.

Vigilance. Duty. Loyalty. These are the burdens he bears.

The Quiet Forest

Smoke drifted on the dusk air. It reeked of burnt meat and old hate. Geneve led the way, nose wrinkled, trying not to breathe too much. If I’m right, the smoke carries the remains of Knights. Three of our own lost, and no one to mourn their graves .

The Briscook Timberland sat still and quiet. No crickets broke free with song. The only noise was the clomping of their horse’s hooves as they headed up the mountain. She sat astride Tristan. He was a blue roan with too much prance to be taken seriously. Slender, pale Vertiline was next, riding her chestnut mare Troubles. In the rear was mighty Israel atop his massive black charger Chesterfield, the worst horse-to-name combination Geneve had ever heard.

It’s too quiet. Vertiline’s armor glittered, challenging the half-light to do its worst. It smells like an ambush.

It smells like we’re too late. Israel adjusted the black sash hanging across his breastplate. The Smithsteel gleamed a contrast to honey-dark skin. Let’s confirm their fall.

Then we find the sinner and kill them. Geneve gritted her teeth, squinting as a pall of smoke drifted across her path.

Judgment first. Tilly didn’t sound convinced. The Justiciars will give them death if it’s deserved.

Sinners deserve death, especially when they take a Knight’s life. And here, we’ve lost three! Geneve kept her inside voice from breaking free, because Tilly understood the score. Iz, too. They didn’t need Geneve’s gutter-rank counsel, her Adept’s sash and single gold bar saying, Knight, but not a lot more. Vertiline wore the three gold stripes of a Chevalier to Israel’s five of a Valiant.

Geneve lowered her head. They’re the real Knights. They command the Storm. They command justice.

The trail wound up the mountain, a dirty pulled thread among nature’s verdant green cloth. The path was scattered with old bark. Wagon ruts cut the hard dirt. Loggers felled the Briscook to feed their families, but when the wood stopped coming a month ago, Tresward Knights were sent.

None returned.

Their last dispatch said they headed for Getun, a miserable trade post deep in the Briscook run by serfs and criminals, so that’s where the Tresward sent Geneve, Israel, and Vertiline. Their mission was simple. Find our lost. Do the job they couldn’t.

They camped last night in a copse of sycamores huddled atop a small rise. It’d given them a fine view of the mountain, and the lightning that slammed it like Khiton’s hammer last night. Dark gray clouds hugged the world, but they weren’t the cause. Knights fought with the Storm against a sinner. The forest lay like a blanket between their meager camp and the action klicks distant. Israel had bowed his head when the lightning stopped. The world held its breath until a sickly green glow touched the clouds. Vertiline looked away, but Geneve stood transfixed. She’d thought, Three of our own just died, and we’re powerless to help them.

They’d not pushed the horses today. The action was already past and fighting a sinner on their own turf was hard enough. No need to add exhaustion to the list. Geneve wanted to