Throne of Shadows: The Traitor Revealed, Book 2: Loth The Unworthy

By Charles Eugene Anderson

As a ruthless sorceress-queen tightens her grip on the oppressed kingdom of Vendhya, a lone hero rises to challenge her tyranny. 

Falsely accused of treason, the barbarian warrior Loth is exiled by Queen Valeria, whose reign of terror is maintained through dark magic and an iron fist. But when Loth returns determined to overthrow Valeria with allies at his side, the queen will stop at nothing to destroy the man who threatens her power. 

Plunged into a dangerous quest, Loth and his companions - the archer Shimoda and the wizard Azax - brave lethal traps, elite guards, and Valeria's mystical enchantments. Their journey will take them deep into forgotten ruins and the snow-capped Blackpeak Mountains as they seek the Glaive of Truth, an ancient artifact with the power to shatter Valeria's sorcery. 

In a climactic confrontation inside Valeria's stronghold, the fate of Vendhya will hang in the balance. But when one final betrayal is revealed, Loth realizes that more sinister forces have been pulling Valeria's strings all along. Their epic battle was merely the first chapter in a saga yet unfinished. 

Throne of Shadows: The Traitor Revealed is a gripping fantasy tale of magic, adventure and valor in the face of expanding darkness. Joined by steadfast allies, one warrior will determine the destiny of a kingdom in the grip of an unrelenting evil.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mad Cow Press
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215382530

Charles Eugene Anderson

Charles Eugene Anderson lives in Colorado. Chuck is a former teacher. He now spends his time writing, hanging out with his pup, Champ, and learning how to bake. More about Chuck at http://charleseugeneanderson.com

Book preview

Chapter

One

The vultures had circled on high, their ominous cries tearing through the scorching, arid air. The desert sprawled like a cursed realm, a forsaken dominion where rain had long forsaken its duty. Barrenness reigned, and the realm's name had been devoured by the sand and the relentless sun.

Loth and Shimoda marched through this wasteland, names that resounded in the annals of glory. Their determination was unyielding, akin to the unrelenting sun above. Their steeds had faltered, forcing them to trudge on foot, a defiance hurled at the elements that sought to shatter them.

Yet, destiny is a capricious sorceress, guiding them to a vision that beggared belief. A distant distortion beckoned them, a mirage toying with weary minds. Pulled like moths to a flame, they pressed on, hope tempered by caution. An ancient city emerged from the quivering horizon, its towers and walls murmuring tales of forgotten grandeur. The ruins stood as remnants of an era even though memory had deserted, crumbling bricks and fallen stones bearing witness to eons gone by.

Loth and Shimoda exchanged glances, their thirst for water a desperate blaze in their chests. With no recourse, they advanced toward the enigma veiled before them. Yet, as they neared, a gnawing unease clawed at them, a foreboding of entering the realm of the accursed. The city seemed a fallen warrior, once mighty but now humbled, its glory corroded, yet its spirit resolute.

The timeworn gates gaped open, an invitation tinged with portent. They entered, boots crunching on the gravel of ancient streets. A spectral quiet gripped the air, and Loth and Shimoda found themselves in the city, ensnared in a deathly sleep.

The dry caress of desert wind kissed their faces, alerting their instincts. Dreams of lush oases spun in tribal tales propelled them onward, past crumbled facades and alleys choked with dust. The city stood as a relic of former magnificence, its breath suspended in an unending pause. Though the gates had parted for them, life had long evacuated these hollow streets. Their footfalls echoed like the ghostly whispers within a long-forgotten crypt.

Undeterred, they journeyed deeper when suddenly, a voice reverberated through the ancient atmosphere, akin to the distant roll of thunder. Fate has drawn you to this forsaken crossroads, seekers of destiny, it declared, a majestic proclamation rippling from concealed recesses. Their eyes widened in shock—had they indeed heard? A revenant from the past uttering words to them?

Not far away, an ancient spring gushed, its life-bestowing waters surging from the earth's core. Date trees, laden with fruit's lush promise, stood watchful guardians. The road's harsh embrace had left their throats parched, yet no words were required as they exchanged a knowing glance, an unspoken pact to drink from this font of salvation.

As the water quenched their insides and the fruit sated their hunger, a voice slithered forth like a serpent's hiss coiled within the shadows. This realm be mine, this spring be mine. Trespassers shall meet my arcane arts and the wrath of my staff.

Startled, they whirled, hands instinctively seeking weapons, eyes penetrating the obscurity. A figure materialized, garbed in tattered robes that danced like specters in the wind's embrace. A hood concealed its visage, a veil of enigma.

"Who