Blood Moon's Daughter

By Charles Eugene Anderson

In the spirit of Robert E. Howard's fantasy stories, this novel follows Ulra, a warrior exiled from her homeland who discovers she is part of an ancient prophecy. After being cast out, Ulra unlocks mystical powers and gains new allies. She must unite warring factions to stand against Krathor, a demonic warlord spreading darkness across the realms. Ulra is destined to become the hero who will save the world from this great evil, but she must first defeat enemies and fulfill the prophecy. This fantasy adventure evokes classic sword and sorcery tales with themes of mystical powers, dark forces, and a prophesied hero rising to their destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mad Cow Press
• Release date: Oct 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223830368

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

Prologue

The Ironpeak Mountains were known to harbor many unfriendly clans, but none with more brutality than the Black Ravens. And it was Ulra's ill fortune to wander into their domain shortly after her exile from the Grey Wolves.

She realized her mistake when the war cries echoed off the sheer cliffs and a dozen grimy warriors spilled out of a narrow canyon with weapons drawn. Ulra was no stranger to bloodshed, but she was vastly outnumbered.

With a feral roar, she drew her broadsword and leaped to meet their charge. The first two Black Ravens fell gurgling and wide-eyed, their throats opened to the bone by her whirling steel.

Though the pale mountain moon lent her only faint light to see by, Ulra's blade danced and thirsted, spraying dark arterial rain upon the rocks. But for each foe she felled, two more appeared.

A spear grazed her shoulder, and a lucky cut left her thigh weeping crimson rivulets. Her muscular sword arm grew leaden as exhaustion took its toll. The battle-madness faded from Ulra's eyes as she realized death waited near.

With a curse, she turned and bounded up the jagged incline before the regrouping clan could surround her. Ulra's knowledge of the broken mountain trails allowed her to stay a step ahead, but the Black Ravens gave chase with the frenzy of bloodied beasts.

Spotting a dark crevice, Ulra squeezed her battered frame inside. She crept deep into the lightless caverns that riddled the mountain belly, eluding the enraged cries of her pursuers. In the echoing gloom, she nursed her wounds and regained her strength. By the gods, she had survived this brush with death, but the Black Ravens would not forget the biting of her steel. This land's perils had only just begun to reveal themselves.

Chapter

One

Bruised but not broken, Ulra continued her lonely trek through the imposing Ironpeak Mountains. The unforgiving peaks jutted skyward like jagged teeth as if the land was aligned against her. Bleak gray cliffs loomed on all sides, blocking out the pale sunlight so that only a meager trickle reached the narrow mountain pass. The occasional mournful cry of a lone hawk echoed off the sheer mountainsides, underscoring Ulra's continued isolation in this harsh, rugged realm.

She took no comfort in the stark beauty of these lands. They only reminded her of the peril she now faced alone, an exile from her Grey Wolf clan. But she will remain unshaken after narrowly escaping the Black Raven clan's fierce attack. Ulra would survive this wilderness through grit and skill. Each day, they made her stronger. She would redeem her name through brave deeds or die trying.

She had no companions on this arduous trek save for the heavy thoughts that weighed upon her spirit. It had been three moons since she was exiled from her clan, the Grey Wolves. Their chieftain, her father, had cast her out after that final heated dispute. She absently touched the new scar upon her cheek, a permanent reminder of the ferocity of their quarrel.

Though it pained her exile, Ulra felt the sadness strengthen with each passing day in the wilderness.

As she trudged through the mountain pass, her thoughts wandered back to the day of her exile. The memory was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was one that she couldn't bring herself to forget. She had stood before the clan, her father's piercing gaze fixed upon her. He had spat out words of anger and disappointment, his face twisted into a mask of rage.

Father, I implore you, listen, Ulra said, her voice strained as Erik turned away. Bran deceives you about what transpired. I swear it on my honor.

Erik stood rigid, refusing to face her. Silence, he said firmly. By your actions today, you have humiliated the Grey Wolves. I will not entertain your manipulations.

Ulra fell to her knees, despairing. I have only ever been true to my clan. It is Bran who has betrayed us.

Erik turned to her, his face hardened. You speak of loyalty and yet understand it not. He brought his dagger to her cheek, carving away her clan markings as Ulra cried out in pain.

From this day, you are exiled. Return, and it will mean your death. Erik's eyes were cold stones. Now go. I have no kinship with you.

Ulra's stepmother cleared her throat gently. My husband, though her actions wounded you, she is still our blood. Could we not show her mercy in her youthful mistake?

Tears burning her cheeks, Ulra stumbled from the village that had been her only home. The weight of Erik's ruthless punishment bore down on her. But in her heart, she nursed a spark of defiance that one day she would return to reveal Bran's lies and reclaim her rightful place. Walking through the mountains, she felt a sense of isolation and despair that threatened to engulf her. She had yet to learn where she was headed or her future. All she knew was that the path was unclear.

Ulra came across a winding mountain stream cascading down the rocky slope. She decided to pause her journey and rest awhile in the calm solitude. Sitting on a large stone at the water's edge, she dug some dried meat and hard bread out of her pack.

Ulra filled her waterskin in the cold rushing water as she ate the simple fare. She felt invigorated by the crisp mountain air and the misty spray from the waterfall nearby. She could push aside her heavy thoughts and briefly be at one with the wilderness around her.

But as she finished her humble meal, Ulra's mind inevitably returned to her predicament. She was an exile now, cut off from the Grey Wolf clan that had been her only family and home. She knew in her heart that one day, she must redeem herself and regain her rightful place among her people.

Although the road ahead was foggy and uncertain, she was determined to strengthen herself mentally and physically. Her strength grew as each day passed while she traveled these brutal lands. Eventually, she would become more powerful and demonstrate to her kin that she deserved the title of Grey Wolf's daughter.

Her course was set - into the unknown wilderness to hone herself to a razored edge. Ulra got to her feet, stretched her limbs, and set off again down the winding mountain trail, renewed with purpose. She did not know what lay ahead but feared no earthly trial. For in her exile, Ulra had found a font of inner strength she had never tapped before. She would face whatever destiny placed in her path.

Ulra's mind drifted back to the day that changed her life forever - the day she was cruelly exiled from the only home she had ever known.

It began when Bran, the brawny barbarian warrior next in line to be chieftain after her father, cornered Ulra alone outside the village. Reeking of wine, his eyes alight with malicious intent, he tore at her clothes and tried to force himself upon her. But Ulra fought back savagely, refusing to become a victim.

The skirmish was brief but brutal. In the end, Bran lay bloodied and beaten in the dirt, Ulra's dagger at his exposed throat. Yet rather than finish him off, she turned and walked away,