Synopsis
Everything changes when Meath finds himself in the magically veiled village of Salvas. News of the death of his friends leaves him teetering on the verge of emotional ruin and bitter loathing. Yet an enthralling new life connected to his past presents itself within the quintessence that is Salvas.
The true nature of the false prince is revealed, bringing on a whole new light to the devastation Draco Kingdom faces. Meath sets himself to the task of avenging his broken life the only way he can, kill Astaroth…
Captured Zehava, Dahak, Nicolette and Shania struggle to stay alive when they find themselves now slaves. Zehava and Dahak are thrown into the Pit where blood and coin come at the forfeit of life. In a desperate attempt to keep their group together they must turn off their humanity to keep the identity of Draco’s heir hidden and safe while they plot a daunting escape.
The true nature of the false prince is revealed, bringing on a whole new light to the devastation Draco Kingdom faces. Meath sets himself to the task of avenging his broken life the only way he can, kill Astaroth…
Captured Zehava, Dahak, Nicolette and Shania struggle to stay alive when they find themselves now slaves. Zehava and Dahak are thrown into the Pit where blood and coin come at the forfeit of life. In a desperate attempt to keep their group together they must turn off their humanity to keep the identity of Draco’s heir hidden and safe while they plot a daunting escape.
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James Fuller has enjoyed the fine art of writing for many years now, he‘s been busy with many on the go book projects lately as he‘s extended his writing from fantasy fiction to also writing a short story anthology as well as an up and coming zombie apocalypse. His popularity has grown not only locally but online through Facebook where he runs his author’s page which is constantly growing as he hosts contests and give-aways daily.
James has an absolute passion for his characters and unique twisted plots with his detailed writing skills that really brings his books to life and makes his characters and their journeys so favourable. As an author he also goes above and beyond when it comes to writing battle scenes, the intricate design and explanations of fighting, not only in swordplay but also in tactics is one of James incredible expertise in which he delights in.
When James isn’t on his computer writing the third instalment of the Fall Of A King series “The Bastard King: Birthright“, he enjoys recreational activities such a camping, fishing, hiking, and archery. Along with being an adventurous outdoors man James also spends many of his hours in a day as a devoted husband and father.
When James isn’t on his computer writing the third instalment of the Fall Of A King series “The Bastard King: Birthright“, he enjoys recreational activities such a camping, fishing, hiking, and archery. Along with being an adventurous outdoors man James also spends many of his hours in a day as a devoted husband and father.
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Extract
Lance and two of his men walked up to the cell one man carried a long chain. Lance’s look was grim and annoyed as he stared in at them chewing his lower lip in sour contemplation. “You two have caused me
more grief than any other slaves I have ever had. Even catching you was nearly not worth it for the men
I lost. And now you will likely cost me even more.” Lance leaned in close, his eyes locking on Zehava’s.
“If you survive this I will consider you forgiven and will put your stupidity behind us.” He paused and gripped the bars tightly. “If not I will have to make the small fortune you have cost me back from between the legs of those two pretty little things.” Lance pushed himself away from the bars in frustration. “Chain them up and get them to the pit.”
Zehava and Dahak stood alone on one side of the pit, a thick chain the length of two men linked them together by their ankles. A sword and dagger were dropped down beside them and nothing more. “Here is your chance to keep your friend alive.” Lance called down to him. “But my suggestion would be
to worry about your own life and those of your other two friends.”
Zehava looked over to Dahak, his friend stood placid, his face void of care. “Take the sword Dahak you will need it I shall be alright with just the dagger.” Zehava went for the knife but his hand was kicked away.
“I do not want your protection.” Dahak hissed grabbing the dagger, his eyes deadly.
Zehava had no time to respond, the crowd roared loudly and two more fighters were dropped into the pit, they had no chains binding them together. Zehava snatched up the rusty sword just as one man lunged forward with a trident, he barely managed to parry the attack. Zehava stepped in, his sword came down, the ironwood staff of the trident was quick to intercept, had Zehava’s blade been of decent quality it might have severed through the wood. A hard boot punched out and caught Zehava in the midsection stealing his breath and throwing him back against the pit wall. He threw his head to the side just as the trident slammed into the dirt wall where his head had been. The chain on his leg pulled tight allowing him to go no further. Zehava slashed his blade across the man’s exposed abdomen, but his strike was weak and only left a minor wound as he fought to regain lost breath.
Dahak stood nearly perfectly still as the fight began, for the first time in his life he felt no fear threatening to overwhelm him, no anxiety coursed through him about dying. There was nothing except an indifferent calm surrounded by a storm of bitter antipathy. He watched the man attack Zehava yet he could find no concern for his friend’s safety. All he could think about was had Zehava let him die Shania would not have had to suffer at the hands of Jeriki and his cruel fetishes. The chain that held them jerked causing him to twist to keep his balance, his opponents’ battle axe flash down in front of him nearly taking his nose from his face as it buried itself into the dirt.
Dahak looked at his opponent, the “J” burned into his chest showed him as one of Jeriki’s men. Dahak’s eyes burned with hate at the thought that this whoreson might have had his hands on Shania. His dagger slashed out scoring a deep wound across the man’s chest. Dahak lunged forward as the axe man staggered back, his dagger pierced into the man’s thick belly but the pull of the chain around his ankle halted it from going deep. A powerful elbow laid him to the ground was his reward for the attempt. Despite his disorientation from the blow his ears picked up the grunt of effort from his opponent. He rolled himself to the side as the large blade slammed into the earth once more.
more grief than any other slaves I have ever had. Even catching you was nearly not worth it for the men
I lost. And now you will likely cost me even more.” Lance leaned in close, his eyes locking on Zehava’s. “If you survive this I will consider you forgiven and will put your stupidity behind us.” He paused and gripped the bars tightly. “If not I will have to make the small fortune you have cost me back from between the legs of those two pretty little things.” Lance pushed himself away from the bars in frustration. “Chain them up and get them to the pit.”
Zehava and Dahak stood alone on one side of the pit, a thick chain the length of two men linked them together by their ankles. A sword and dagger were dropped down beside them and nothing more. “Here is your chance to keep your friend alive.” Lance called down to him. “But my suggestion would be
to worry about your own life and those of your other two friends.”
Zehava looked over to Dahak, his friend stood placid, his face void of care. “Take the sword Dahak you will need it I shall be alright with just the dagger.” Zehava went for the knife but his hand was kicked away.
“I do not want your protection.” Dahak hissed grabbing the dagger, his eyes deadly.
Zehava had no time to respond, the crowd roared loudly and two more fighters were dropped into the pit, they had no chains binding them together. Zehava snatched up the rusty sword just as one man lunged forward with a trident, he barely managed to parry the attack. Zehava stepped in, his sword came down, the ironwood staff of the trident was quick to intercept, had Zehava’s blade been of decent quality it might have severed through the wood. A hard boot punched out and caught Zehava in the midsection stealing his breath and throwing him back against the pit wall. He threw his head to the side just as the trident slammed into the dirt wall where his head had been. The chain on his leg pulled tight allowing him to go no further. Zehava slashed his blade across the man’s exposed abdomen, but his strike was weak and only left a minor wound as he fought to regain lost breath.
Dahak stood nearly perfectly still as the fight began, for the first time in his life he felt no fear threatening to overwhelm him, no anxiety coursed through him about dying. There was nothing except an indifferent calm surrounded by a storm of bitter antipathy. He watched the man attack Zehava yet he could find no concern for his friend’s safety. All he could think about was had Zehava let him die Shania would not have had to suffer at the hands of Jeriki and his cruel fetishes. The chain that held them jerked causing him to twist to keep his balance, his opponents’ battle axe flash down in front of him nearly taking his nose from his face as it buried itself into the dirt.
Dahak looked at his opponent, the “J” burned into his chest showed him as one of Jeriki’s men. Dahak’s eyes burned with hate at the thought that this whoreson might have had his hands on Shania. His dagger slashed out scoring a deep wound across the man’s chest. Dahak lunged forward as the axe man staggered back, his dagger pierced into the man’s thick belly but the pull of the chain around his ankle halted it from going deep. A powerful elbow laid him to the ground was his reward for the attempt. Despite his disorientation from the blow his ears picked up the grunt of effort from his opponent. He rolled himself to the side as the large blade slammed into the earth once more.
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