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Fiction Epic

The Unseen Force

by (author) Catherine Fitzsimmons

Publisher
Brain Lag
Initial publish date
Jun 2020
Category
Epic, Action & Adventure
  • Paperback / softback

    ISBN
    9781928011330
    Publish Date
    Jun 2020
    List Price
    $19.99

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Description

The Battle of Albrith is over. The battle for Faneria has just begun.

Magic is forbidden in Faneria. That's why it came as a complete surprise when the king's city was attacked by a band of rogue mages. Though they were thwarted, Damian Sires, instrumental in their defeat, is known for only one thing—her magic.

She returns home to a cold welcome and an even greater threat looming. For Niabi, servant of the Gods of Light, is amassing an army far to the west. After Niabi fought the Goddess of Chaos in the streets of Albrith with no thought to the damage she caused, Damian knows that this Army of Light spells disaster.

Guarded at all times and accompanied by a former mercenary with a dark past, Damian sets out to stop Niabi from wreaking havoc on her country. However, even more dangerous secrets and plots are about to emerge...

About the author

Contributor Notes

After working for a number of evil empires, Catherine decided to forgo things like a salary and regular human interaction to start a business. She lives near Toronto, Ontario with her husband, daughter, and two crazy tabbies.

Excerpt: The Unseen Force (by (author) Catherine Fitzsimmons)

Redge awoke to the room lit by the glow of sunlight against the drapes, during that short period of the year when the sun rose before he did. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face, the stone floor cool against his feet. His wide room was silent, the thick walls of the tower muffling all sound.

Redge rose from the bed, gently so as not to disturb his wife. He scratched at his close-trimmed beard and ran a hand through his medium length dirty blond hair, seeing silver from the corner of his eye. Slipping on his boots, he strolled to the window and pulled back the drapes.

A private training yard lay four stories below, secluded from the rest of the castle. Half a dozen men sparred or ran through their exercises in the shadows of the walls surrounding the yard. Most of them wore battered training armour or coats of mail. Only one, standing apart from the others as he followed the trainer’s drills, wore his full suit of armour. Like the rest of the men, he wore no helmet. Redge didn’t need to see the glint of red in the man’s hair to know it was Sir Magni.

In a far corner, a handful of women tended their small garden while children ran about playing nearby or watching the knights at their drills. Seemingly happy, despite that this was the only glimpse of the outside world they ever saw. Redge’s face fell and he let out a sigh.

He turned from the window to take in the stand in the corner holding his own suit of armour. Meticulously polished, intricately detailed, stylized like all Agaesi armour into modern blacksmiths’ imitation of dragon scales, his standard suit of plate was finer than most knights’ parade armour. And long unused, from the layer of dust on the neck and base of the stand.

Redge crossed the room, but left the plate where it hung, donning only a long mail tunic and strapping an arming sword over it.

Opening the door to the common room of his suite, he found his own children up and playing as well. Most of them, anyway. He bid good morning to the boys and younger girl, but his eyes remained on the closed door to his eldest daughter’s room.

Redge continued out of his suite. The corridor outside, like all the floors in this secluded tower, was narrow and unadorned, barely wider than his spread arms. Unlike the other floors, the door to Redge’s suite was the only one along this hall before it turned a corner. Turning away from the bend in the hall, he moved to the spiral stairs along the inner wall and climbed down.

He stepped off the stairs on the second floor and crossed the mostly empty dining hall. Only a handful of women, children, and elders ate at the long tables. Redge greeted them as he passed and continued toward the far side of the tower, exiting onto the stairs leading down to the training yard.

Until the sun rose over the wall surrounding the yard, Redge supervised the training and ran through his own drills. His aging body protested the exercise at first, but his movements swiftly eased and grew faster as the power of Agasis coursed through his body. The ancient dragon’s strength filled Redge’s muscles and seemed to lift his own weight away. He wasn’t quite as fast, nor could he last quite as long, as in his prime, but his abilities were still greater than an ordinary knight half his age.

The mail pressed heavily against him and he was drenched in sweat by the time he finished. His assistant Brannik waited near the stairs, holding a handful of folded cloth.

Redge smiled at the young, thin, pale boy as he dried himself off. Redge tried to ignore the guilt that rose as his thoughts turned again to his daughter.

I can give Brannik something better for his life, Redge thought, but even as the captain of the Agaesi, I can do nothing for my own daughters. He moved behind a screen to change into clean clothes.

“Anything new this morning, Brannik?” Redge asked, fully expecting the answer to be the same as every day. Correspondence about requisitions, maintenance of weapons and armour, updates on the whereabouts of the few Agaesi knights on assignments, general news and gossip in the province and the kingdom.

“Actually, Sir,” Brannik said, the wheeze in his breath a little softer in summer, “there was a note from the duke this morning requesting your presence.”

Redge paused as he pulled his trousers up. “What?”

“It’s for later this morning, Sir. That’s all it says.”

Frowning, Redge hurried to finish dressing and handed off the sweaty garments and mail to Brannik. Redge ate swiftly and retreated to his office on the ground floor to address what correspondence he could, but his thoughts were on the summons from the duke.

When the time came and he crossed the castle to a drawing room, however, he found several others waiting inside the room as well. Other nobles and high-ranking knights, field marshals for Hesperia’s large standing army, had also been summoned, though the curious and concerned looks on their faces told Redge that they knew no more than he did about this meeting.

The Duke of Hesperia turned to acknowledge Redge’s entrance. Osmarus Valikov was broad of shoulder, chest, and girth, a bear of a man who commanded, rather than demanded, attention. His curly, dark hair was pulled back from a widow’s peak and tied at the nape of his neck, and his thick, full beard, without a moustache, tumbled over his chest.

“My Lord Duke,” Redge said as he bowed.

“Sir Warwick,” the duke’s booming voice replied. “Please come in. We are waiting on just a few others.”

Redge nodded as he crossed the room to stand among the others gathered. Two more people soon arrived and the duke stepped forward to address them, everyone falling silent.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know how quickly stories travel, so I wanted to brief each of you personally on this newest development as soon as possible.

“I assume you have all heard the rumours about an army gathering in Edan.”

Murmurs of assent rippled among those gathered. Redge nodded along with a few others. He was uncertain how to feel about a meeting regarding the so-called Army of Light in the kingdom to the west.

The duke reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter. “I gathered you all here to tell you that those rumours have been confirmed.”

A flurry of murmurs, surprised looks, and shuffling rose.

“I received this message last night from a trusted source.”

“Spies?” asked one of the others.

“Allies,” the duke answered. “Friends of Faneria who wrote to inform us that the King of Edan has announced his joining forces with the malakh Niabi.”

Greater murmuring rippled as some turned to speak to others. Redge frowned. He perhaps knew more than many in the room about Niabi, the malakh, servant of the Gods of Light, who was responsible for no small amount of damage done during the Battle of Albrith several weeks ago. His personal beliefs aside, Redge didn’t like the idea of her gathering an army in Edan, or of their king joining her.

“What does this mean for us?” another knight asked.

“For now, nothing,” the duke replied. “But we must all be watchful of what transpires from this alliance.”

“Is it true, then,” said someone else, “that their goal is to convert unbelievers and snuff out all trace of the old gods?”

“The king has not officially claimed her supposed cause as Edan’s,” the duke said.

“Then why join with her?”

“He had to,” answered another of the nobles. “The stories say one in every five men within fifty leagues of Brighton has joined the Army of Light. Their king’s position is still tenuous. If he did not officially join with her, he would quickly lose power.”

“But why?” pressed another. “Why assemble an army so large if not for a specific campaign? What is that malakh planning to do?”

“I’ve heard that she’s already moved south to recruit more men,” said one. “Mark my words, we’ll be their next target.”

“That,” the duke said before anyone else could respond, “remains unconfirmed. Speculate outside this room, gentlemen.” He held up the letter. “We are here to discuss facts.” With that, he tossed the letter onto a table before him. Redge moved forward to read the letter as the others continued discussing the news. The note said little more than the duke did, and only mentioned Niabi as she related to the King of Edan.

“What do you require of us?” Redge asked.

“Keep your eyes and ears open for any news on this front,” the duke answered. “Nothing else has been confirmed at this point, but I think that some of you are right that this could prove troublesome for us. I have a strong feeling this will not be the last we hear of the Army of Light.”

Editorial Reviews

"I loved the magic use and how magic was forbidden. It made the story feel more suspenseful. All in all, this was a fascinating story with an intriguing plot line." - Book Confessions of an ExBallerina

"Fitzsimmons is talented at painting scenes and immersive world-building. All the characters felt realistic and Damian's ragtag gang grew quite organically, and I liked the dynamics between them." - Notes from a Paper Plane Nomad

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