I’m happy to announce that The Lure of Power is available! It is the sixth chapter in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 8400 words and is priced at $0.99.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

He dropped his pack to the ground and slumped down beside it. Leaning against the rock ledge, on the side of the mountain trail, he closed his eyes and sought his water bottle. Blessed water sloshed within. Images of the desolation he had survived flashed through his mind; the unrelenting sun, fierce dust storms, sand so hot his feet blistered through the leather soles of his shoes, a mouth so dry and cracked his gums bled.

The joy he felt at the first clear stream past the Aridad desert was more keen than memories of his mother’s warm embrace. More real than sinking a knife into the throat of a hardened murderer before it could be done to him.

He saw Boda Zadaei’s fat, seething face whenever he closed his eyes.

It haunted his dreams now as he slept beneath the azure sky, a fresh mountain breeze soft against his sunburnt skin. He awoke later, the sun past its zenith and trailing down to the distant horizon. Its heat was not so harsh here, and he took back the curses he had heaped upon it while he baked in the sand for so many days. He remembered now the joy he felt when he lounged upon a rooftop in the Warren of Sol and felt the sun upon his skin.

He stood and regarded the trail before him, following it up the mountain until he saw the dome of a distant building. If Dyuta’s disciple was to be trusted, he would find the Durrant Heil there and his flight would be at an end.

The trail was steep and narrow and sweat beaded upon his brow as he hiked. The sun was near to setting when he rounded a final bend and saw the monastery before him. He stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. The red-infused light played upon the massive stone blocks of the monastery, which reflected the light back like fresh blood welling from a wound. Its dome rose high above the ground and Saulzar had to crane his neck to contemplate its full majesty.

There were many grand buildings in Sol, but here on the side of a mountain, amidst the glory of nature, man had wrought a monument that both defied and deified nature. It rose from the cliff as if it was one with the mountain, while proclaiming that there was nothing man could not do if it were in his mind to do it.

A man approached while Saulzar stood staring, vainly trying to comprehend its magnitude.

You’ll find The Lure of Power in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar

I’m happy to announce that The Cost of Revenge is available! It is the fifth chapter in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 8500 words and is priced at $0.99.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

His stomach grumbled so loudly that the person next to him turned and said, “Excuse me?” just before Saulzar bumped into her.

The old lady looked at the disheveled youth with a disapproving eye, casting aspersions upon his windswept hair, grimy face, and mischievous smile, while wishing her withered old bones still held the spark of life that bubbled forth from the child.

Saulzar thought none of those things. He saw a gray-haired woman who had no idea what fun was. He stuck his tongue out at her and jogged away, darting through the crowded market with all the grace and arrogance that a boy can possess. He turned a corner and rifled through the small leather bag he had snatched when they collided. He found a couple of small coins, a scrap of cloth and a piece of string.
He tossed the bag away and pocketed the coins. His stomach growled again as he merged into the market crowd. The coins could buy fresh fruit or a few candied nuts, but Saulzar had plans for the money.

He was going to buy a knife.

He stopped at the next stall and looked with envy upon his future possession. It had been months since he first saw the serrated knife with the wolfshead hilt, and he was happy that it had not sold. The first time he saw it, it resonated with him. He asked the shopkeeper if he could see it. The shopkeeper took the knife out for Saulzar to see. Saulzar asked how much it was and choked on the price.

Four hundred danir!

He may as well covet a prince’s palace for all the likelihood that he would own it. Yet a week later, it was still there, so Saulzar began to hoard his money. He pestered Farsha Kordi, his guardian, for odd jobs. Farsha relented, and Saulzar spent all of his free time dusting the house, sweeping the floors, and cleaning their dishes. He also spent the days skipping out on his education and finding money in the market.

He had a skill for making money disappear from one person and appear in his own hand. And now, with the money he lifted today, he was only ten danir from his goal.

“Do not sell that knife. I will be back for it next week,” Saulzar said.

“I have tried hard to sell it all summer, and yet no one will buy it. Perhaps you are meant to have it, eh?” the shopkeeper said with a sly smile.

“I am,” Saulzar said before melting into the crowded market.

His stomach rumbled again, and he realized he had not eaten all day. He looked at the nearby stalls while standing on his tiptoes. He was tall and strong for his age and the added height was enough for him to see over most people.

Men in traditional Nizwi head scarves and white or black robes roamed the markets looking for books and jewels and slaves. Throngs of veiled women in flowing, colorful robes toured the market, trailing servants who bought the produce, meat, and spices for the evening meal.

Saulzar slipped in among the servants of a petite Nizwi woman who barked orders at a large, bald man. He then hissed orders at the trailing servants who darted from the pack to buy goods before returning to the ranks. Saulzar had watched these roaming packs of servants with awe and trepidation when he first came to Sol. It had not taken long for him to learn that he could slip among them, and amidst the chaos of the negotiations, steal away with food for himself.

A servant behind him made a run for a stall full of apples, papaya, coconut, and bananas, and Saulzar followed in her wake. As the list of needs was read, and the stall owner bent over backward to meet the demands, Saulzar nicked an apple and a banana. When the servant left, Saulzar fell in behind her.

You’ll find The Cost of Revenge in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar

I’m happy to announce that A Release from Rage is now available! It is the fourth chapter in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 8400 words and is priced at $0.99.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

Above his head was an ancient wall, built thousands of years before and buried beneath the scouring sand of the Aridad desert for generations. He wedged his body deeper into the crevasse, praying the rock did not pick this moment to crumble into decay, burying him under thousands of pounds of rubble.

“Is it there, do you think?” Flint asked.

“Can you reach a bit more?” Coal asked.

Sweat dripped into Saulzar’s eyes, fear pressed in with the weight of the fallen walls that he slithered between. He could feel the pulsing of his goal, waves of power that emanated from just beyond his reach. Rubble trickled down the wall, dust falling in waves to coat his face in a sticky mask.

“Farther. You got to lower me farther,” Saulzar said through clenched teeth.

Smudge replied with a strained grunt and Saulzar slipped forward another foot.

“Careful, you oaf!” Meria said.

Smudge growled, but it was out of strain, not anger. All the Wolves had adopted Meria as their own after the death of the Warlord. She possessed a ruthlessness matched only by Saulzar.

“I think the floor is another foot. Can you lower me more?”

Smudge was lying on his belly, half in the hole, with Flint and Coal holding his legs. He held Saulzar by a single arm and dangled him lower.

“Any further and they’ll all be in the hole with you,” Meria called down.

“Then you’ll have to drop me.”

“Drop you?”

“You heard me! It’s a short fall. I think I can see the bottom.”

“Can he see in the dark, I wonder?” Flint asked.

It was pitch black in the ancient ruins, but for a sickly torch casting bewildering shadows on the worn and pitted columns around them.

“Just drop me! We’ve not come all this way to lose out now.”

Saulzar had led his Wolves into the Aridad desert, chasing the rumor of a long lost necklace of untold power. Saulzar had learned of it from Omen Taru of the Durrant Heil, but it was Lord Edward who mentioned hearing of strange lights in the sky in the Aridad Desert. Caravan traders from Sol were afraid to go near the Oasis of Gielel because of the lights and because of the bones.

Thousands of bones littered the ground just north of the oasis. Ancient walls and crumbled stone marked the site of a ruined city, and the bones were thick as the grain on the Poi plain. No one could recall seeing the ruins or the field of bones before. It was as if the desert was offering them back up to the light of day.

Saulzar had a hunch about those rumors, an inkling that the rumors could be tied to what he sought. Ancient relics from another age were waking up, finding their way back into the world and Saulzar had already collected many at the behest of the Durrant Heil.

You’ll find A Release from Rage in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar

I’m happy to announce that The Illusion of Control is available! It is the third chapter in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 9400 words and is priced at $0.99.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

His wolves hunted. They were concealed on both sides of the Karka, a tributary of the Poi. The river was not wide, about eighty feet where he knelt, but it flowed deep and cold. Across the river, hidden among the tall reeds that grew on the banks of the river, were Smudge, Snarl and Lefty.

“Is that it, do you think?” Flint asked, for the third time that hour.

Flint was a jumpy man, though all the time he spent building explosives gave him an excuse. Saulzar shielded his eyes against the sun and turned his gaze downstream. Flint was right.

“That’s the one.” The boat was wide with a shallow draft. It looked like a pig wallowing in mud as it crawled around a bend.

“How do you know?” Coal asked.

Coal and Flint were brothers and shared many traits, their inability to sit still was one, their penchant for questions another. Saulzar took a deep breath to keep his temper under control. Hunger, his blood-craving scimitar, flared into the gap in his mental defense, and he shook off the image of Coal’s head tumbling from his body.

These were his men. They were good men, and their company staved off the call of his sword.

“Black boat, wide body. Poles, not oars. Riding low in the water. Red flag with two white, diagonal stripes. That’s the target. That’s what I see.”

“You can see all that, can you?” Flint squinted into the sun.

“You’ve spent too much time underground, Flint,” Saulzar said.

“Or diddlin’ his pecker, he has,” Coal said. Flint swung a fist at him. Coal ducked and rammed his head into Flint’s chest. They hit the ground, throwing ineffectual punches until Saulzar grabbed both by the necks in his iron grip. They stopped struggling immediately for they knew their leader’s temper.

“Quiet,” Saulzar said.

“Sorry, boss,” Flint said and Coal echoed. Saulzar shook his head.

“Check your gear one more time and, by Joccha, stay down and stay quiet.”

Saulzar gazed across the river and saw Smudge’s ugly, squished face staring across the gap. Saulzar put his arm out to the right with his fist closed, and then flashed it open twice. Smudge copied him, and Saulzar knew that he and Snarl would do their job when the boat arrived.

Smudge had joined the Wolves a year before, running from an accusation of murder. He didn’t say much about it, nor much ever, but after Saulzar saw him fight for the first time he had Lord Edward look into Smudge’s past. He discovered that Smudge got into a bar fight with a squadron of guards that ended with the guards bloody and broken.

“S’all set, boss,” Flint said. “Now what?”

“Wait for my signal.”

The boat continued its slow journey upriver. Upon the deck, Saulzar could make out people now. Two on each side plied their long poles, pushing the boat upriver. An equal number stood on watch, bows in hand. Upon the forecastle, under a canopy, stood the captain and two armed men.

“Now?” asked Coal.

“No, not now.”

Minutes passed slowly, the mumbling of the river and the noisy breathing of Coal the only sound.

“Now?” asked Flint.

Saulzar growled in answer, low and menacing. He willed the boat faster so they could begin. Coal and Flint swatted at gnats that swarmed around their faces. Saulzar could see their agitation and hoped they could hold out for a few minutes more.

You’ll find The Illusion of Control in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar

I’m happy to announce that The Bonds of Friendship is now available! It is the second part in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 8500 words and is priced at $0.99. The next story, The Illusion of Control, will be ready to go by October 1st.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

The three men were already dead, they just did not know it. Hidden in brambles beside a dirt track, they were happily arguing about what they would find in the wagon after they attacked.

“One-ear wouldn’t have us wait here overnight just so you can fill your belly. It’s gold, I tell you,” said the man on the left.

He was going to die first. Saulzar lurked behind them, waiting and watching. His scimitar, Hunger, was unsheathed in his right hand, and its strange power pulsed through him, calling for blood. He held the sword’s desire in check, curious to know what these men were after.

“None of us know. He didn’t tell me, so that means he didn’t tell you,” said the man on the right. “We’re to look for a bald priest of Herna, that’s all I know.”

“Gold for sure. Gold offerings,” said the man on the left.

“It better be ale and food,” said the third man.

“Quiet, there it is,” the leader said.

Along the road came a wagon, pulled by two oxen. Driving the wagon was a plump, bald man, dressed in a brown, flowing robe with a blue sash. Next to him sat a wisp of a woman, black hair pulled back, an easy smile on her face as she laughed with the bald priest.

A memory pulled at Saulzar. A memory of love and laughter and joy, so foreign to the violence and savagery he had immersed himself in, that he stopped and his heart fluttered.

Jafina.

The loss of her love was raw, even months later.

He tore his gaze from the woman and focused on the men that would harm her. He would not lose her the way he lost Jafina. He leapt up from his hidden copse as the three men crashed onto the road.

Driven by Hunger, Saulzar closed on the man, who hoped to find gold, and thrust the sword through his neck. Blood sprayed, mixing with the dirt and salt on Saulzar’s face. Hunger cried in exultation and Saulzar mirrored the cry, unable to contain the joy that surged from the sword into his soul.

This is what mattered.

Hunt or be hunted.

And he was the hunter.

The other two men ran towards the wagon, oblivious to the danger behind them, all sound and fury and bluster. The priest of Herna pulled hard on the reins, and the wagon skewed to a stop. The woman screamed at him to keep going. The priest yelled and cursed at the brigands, but they did not slow.

Saulzar pursued, the sickly sweet smell of blood in his nostrils and a bloodlust driving him on. He closed on the next man, who hoped for food, in three running strides. Hunger whipped out, ripping through the man’s spine just above his waist. He fell and the irony that he died from Hunger was not lost on Saulzar.

There was but one man left to kill. Saulzar sprinted, intent on ending him before he could harm the dark-haired woman or the priest, when from the left came the crashing sound of three horses and riders as they pounded onto the road, battle cries upon their lips. Saulzar
stopped hard and parried a downward stroke from the lead rider, fighting for his life against odds he did not relish.

But Hunger had no such concerns. Here was more blood to slake its thirst. The second rider was upon him, and all he could do was slip in under the strike and drive his pommel into the horse’s flank. The horse swerved, nearly tossing its rider, but Saulzar was not watching. He was focused on the final horse. It was a rangy roan, and its brown and white legs were a blur as it pounded towards him.

You’ll find The Bonds of Friendship in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar

I’m happy to announce that A Price to Pay is now available! It is the first published story in the Saulzar Codex – a series of short stories focusing on Saulzar, a fierce warrior battling to overcome his own past. You can learn more about the project here.

I’d love for you to stop by and pick it up. It’s a short story at 8300 words and is priced accordingly at $0.99. The next story, The Ties that Bind, will be ready to go by September 1st.

How about some free reading? Here’s the same sample you’ll find on the Amazon website:

The world was dull and colorless to Saulzar, though the sun was bright, the sky a brilliant blue, and reflections of white clouds danced upon the tremulous waves of the river he followed. Songbirds sang a joyous melody in worship to spring, but Saulzar did not hear. He heard only a piercing scream. The intoxicating aroma of blooming wildflowers heralded a season of bounty, but Saulzar could smell only the nauseating scent of pooling blood.

Jafina was dead.

It was his fault.

He wandered south along the river Poi, unseeing and uncaring. He had no destination in mind, for he sought only to flee the horror of her death, to find release from the burden of responsibility he saw in her blue eyes as their light faded and the realization of a life cut short flashed through them.

He brought her there.

And there she remained.

Vengeance he had sought, her death price paid in rivers of blood, but it did nothing to soothe the anguish in his soul. The mountain of dead he heaped beside her body could not bring back her warm embrace or the faint smell of jasmine when she held him close. He buried her, deep in the earth, far from the pain of the world. He built a cairn of skulls upon her grave.

But the thought of her did not relent. The dying light in her eyes would not forgive him his hubris. He was haunted by her face each day and tormented in his dreams while he slept.

He kept moving, if only on instinct gifted by the blood of wolves. He had lost much before her, though nothing so precious to him. He was young and strong, fierce and handsome, and possessed a skill in battle that few could match. He would persevere. He must carry his memory of her wherever he went and build a temple to her within his heart and within his mind.

But it was hard. Harder than being sent from his family. Harder than surviving in the streets as an orphan. Harder than learning the ways of the Durrant Heil. The pain of her death pierced him more deeply than any wound.

Yet he found a way. Day and night, night and day, through rain and sun and sleet and wind, he trudged south, the river Poi ever on his left, and mountains rising in the distance to his right.

Until there was no where left to walk. The Hadean Sea stretched out before him; a gray, endless expanse of water as dark and stormy as the rage and guilt within his mind. Saulzar looked around, struggled to pierce the haze of his torment, and found himself upon a pier at the end of a town. He saw people eye him nervously and flow around him like a rock in a stream, but he paid them no heed. Could they understand the depth of his torment? Did they bear the terrible weight of Jafina’s death upon their soul?

They did not. That burden was his alone.

You’ll find A Price to Pay in Kindle format from the Amazon store  If you don’t already have a Kindle or a Kindle app, I highly recommend it to you. Here are a couple of ways to get started:

Read on a device you own for FREE

Buy a Kindle

Let me know what you think of it by leaving an Amazon review or a comment on this post.

Thanks!

Twitter: @brandera33 @TheRealSaulzar