The Merchant and the Menace
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Authors: Daniel F McHugh
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| The Merchant and the Menace |
| The Seraphinium [1] |
| Daniel F McHugh |
| CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (2012) |
The Seraphim. Beings of power, created to guide the world in times of trouble. They live their lives of near immortality in servitude to a lesser creature, man.
One rebelled. Amird, the Hand of the Creator, bridled at the sovereignty of his lord. In defiance he murdered a brother and was cast into the Mists of Chaos.
Millennia passed as the Deceiver plotted his return. Backed by the might of a seemingly unstoppable army of Ulrog Stone Men and their fire-eyed Malveel Lords, Amird plans to wrest control of the world from the Creator and rain violence on the humans he once served.
All that stands between Amird and his triumphant return are the remnants of battered human armies and the hope that Seraphim, loyal to the Creator, still roam this world.
Kael knows little of this struggle. His quiet village lies deep in the Southlands, unchanged and unchallenged by the wars raging in the frozen North. In fact, the boy longs for a bit of adventure and freedom from the boring routine at his father’s inn.
Freedom comes at a cost. Kael’s first journey outside his secluded village results in a tragedy so deep it destroys the boy’s sheltered world and immerses him in the struggle.
Revelations surface. Kael uncovers a past linking him to legends, grapples with a present that resembles nothing he knows, and confronts a future that demands he tap long dormant power to stake a claim in the defense of the human races.
Kael’s first step toward that future lies through the darkness of the Nagur Wood, and rumor has it something prowls the Nagur!
Daniel McHugh was born on 7-17-1966 as the 7th child of William and Janis McHugh. He was born at 7:07 a.m. on the 7th floor of Little Company of Mary Hospital in room 707 and weighed 7 pounds 7 ounces. Therefore, his lucky number is quite understandably 13.
THE SERAPHINIUM
BOOK I
THE MERCHANT AND THE MENACE
BY DANIEL FRANCIS MCHUGH
Copyright
Ó
2011
Daniel Francis McHugh
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be
used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
written permission from the author.
McHugh, Daniel F. (2011).
The Merchant and the Menace
(The Seraphinium Series, Book 1)
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to the person who
collaborates in the fulfillment of my dreams,
Jennifer Jo.
AND
To the three Fates who have filled my life with
unbridled joy,
resonant laughter
and
uncontrollable glee.
Lilywynn
Liza Bean
And
Pryor Maeve
Many
thanks to those who spent days editing this jumble of thoughts: Jennifer
McHugh, Judy Pryor, Daniel Woolsey, Sue Elworth, Michael McNamara and the
beautiful Lillian McHugh.
Additional
thanks to those early readers for their gracious support and insight: Timothy
Feeney, Daniel Quinn, Bill Mazurowski, Emily Douville, Kurt Steib, Ron Forresta,
Timothy O’Reilly and Joseph Felicicchia.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 5: UP THE WINDING
STAIRCASE
CHAPTER 6: FLAME OF THE
MALVEEL
CHAPTER 9: STEPPING FROM
THE SHADOWS
CHAPTER 10: BIRTH OF THE
SERAPHIM
CHAPTER 11: DOWN THE
WINDING STAIRCASE
CHAPTER 12: THE COMFORT OF
SLEEP
CHAPTER 13: THE KING’S SERVICE
CHAPTER 17: THE BLACKSMITH’S
APPRENTICE
CHAPTER 18: THE MERCHANT AND
THE MENACE
CHAPTER 19: LED THROUGH
DARKNESS
CHAPTER 20: THE LESSONS OF
PREJUDICE
CHAPTER 22: BRIDGE
TENDER, GATEKEEPER
CHAPTER 23: THE SINGING
MERMAID
CHAPTER 29: THE FOX AND THE
HAMMER
GLOSSARY OF
CHARACTERS AND LOCATIONS
PROLOGUE
Steff froze and his eyes widened. He stared at Lord
Giar as a breeze dodged past the thick trunks of the deep wood and rustled the
leaves above. Giar crouched beside a dying fire and stoked the blaze with a
stick. Flames grew but darkness swallowed their light only a few feet from the
pair. Giar’s conversation remained casual, but the elder Elf’s free hand caused
Steff’s alarm and fixed his attention.
Giar held the hand close to his body, just visible inside
the folds of his cloak. He manipulated it rapidly, creating complex signals.
Signals used by the spies of his country to communicate silently.
“We made excellent time today, son,” spoke Giar
calmly as his fingers danced. He leveled a penetrating gaze at Steff. “The real
test will come on the plains to the north. We have many leagues ahead of us.”
Steff ignored his father’s words. He squinted
through the darkness at the hand as it twitched within the cloak. Steff
struggled to decipher the code. Giar only recently passed its secrets to the
young man.
“...something ... in wood. Remain calm ... “
“The horses could use a rub down and some water. Do
you have any oats in your pack?” continued Lord Giar as he dropped the stick
into the flames and motioned to the tethered horses.
The fire greedily consumed the fresh fuel, flaring
for a moment more. Steff glanced to a few small bundles stacked beside the
horses at the edge of the forest clearing. The young Elf’s longbow and quiver
lay beside the packs. Steff turned back as his father continued.
“Our mounts earned a few sweet oats and some water
before we turn in,” stated Giar.
His hand continued to flicker.
“.... retrieve your bow ...”
“Yes, father,” replied Steff nervously. The boy
grimaced and fought to remain composed. “I’ll see what we have.”
He rose from the fireside and calmly walked to the
bundles. Steff rummaged through the first pack, well aware it contained no
oats. He discarded the bundle directly atop his bow and quiver then checked the
second.
“I can’t find them. The light is too low,” said
Steff. “I’ll bring them closer to the fire.”
Steff dropped the second atop the first then
scooped the bundles, bow and quiver from the ground. He slowly walked back
toward the fire. The horses whinnied and grew restless.
“I may have forgotten to include the oats in our
provisions,” stated Lord Giar. “The horses can feast on grasses once we reach
the plains in the morning. What do we have for a meal?”
Steff knelt and laid the bundles beside the fire.
One hand locked on the bow beneath the burlap, the other wrapped around the
shaft of an arrow within the quiver. One of the horses stamped and threw its
head. The other strained on its tether. Steff stared at his father’s gesticulating
hand.
“... in the wood ... behind me. Malveel ...”
Steff sucked in a deep breath. His eyes darted
upward. His father smiled pleasantly at the young man, but Steff noted tension
in Giar’s stance. The Elf lord’s hand inched toward the dagger sheathed at his
side.
“The horses,” blurted Steff. Panic edged into his
voice. “We could ... I could try again. Perhaps we could find something ....”
“No,” frowned Giar as he spoke in a firm voice.
“There is no going back. The horses are exhausted. I must deal with our problem.
Remember this lesson when you
return to Luxlor
. We must properly prepare
for all contingencies. Our people must
learn
from our mistake. The Grey
Elves need to
prepare
the next time they journey from Luxlor.”
Steff struggled to keep his concealed hands steady.
The burlap trembled as he slowly drew an arrow from the hidden quiver and
notched it upon his bowstring. The horses grew more agitated. Steff gazed
wide-eyed at his father. Giar leaned toward his son.
“I love you, lad,” whispered Giar. “Will you do as
I say?”
Steff nodded in agreement. A loving smile crossed
Lord Giar’s face. His hand wrapped about the hilt of his dagger. The Elf lord
drew in a deep breath. His eyes pierced Steff with their intensity.
“RUN!” cried Giar.
The Elf lord spun toward the tree line. A long,
pointed dagger whipped from beneath his cloak and hurtled into the night.
Something monstrous and black burst from the darkness. Tree limbs snapped. Red
eyes, filled with molten flame, bore down on them.
Steff leapt to his feet, drew the arrow back and
hastily took aim. A terrifying roar drowned out the high pitched twang of his
bowstring. The shaft whistled past his father. It ricocheted off the beast with
a loud CRACK! The creature’s eyes flared and crimson fire poured forth.
