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Wednesday, March 28, 2012

EXCERPT FROM WINDMASTER BY HELEN HENDERSON

Tagline: Windmaster - Revenge set Ellspeth and the archmage, Dal, on the path to her destiny, but prophecy controlled the journey.

Blurb: Windmaster is a romance-filled, action-packed fantasy described by readers as a fascinating story that will keep you up all night turning the pages. Revenge set Ellspeth, captain of Sea Falcon, on the path to her destiny, but prophecy controlled the journey. Despite his insolent attitude, she is attracted to the dark-haired dockworker she hires to help unload the vessel's cargo. When the supposed dockhand reveals he is Lord Dal, the last member of the Council of Wizards, and her passenger, Ellspeth breaks a cardinal rule--fraternizing with the paying customers. Bringing him back from near-death releases Ellspeth's latent powers and threatens her captaincy. For to have magic she must give up the sea.

Dal has his own reasons for Ellspeth to embrace her powers. In accordance with an ancient prophecy, Dal allows Ellspeth to be handfasted to him without her knowledge or consent. However, the prophecy doesn't state whether she will return his love. A likelihood threatened as the deception is unveiled and Dal is captured and stripped of his powers by fanatical clerics bent on ridding the world of magic and those who wield it.

Trapped within the Oracle's Temple and marked for sacrifice, Ellspeth must choose between her own survival, saving the future of magic... or love.

EXCERPT

From the mists of time, a prophecy awaits to be fulfilled.

Mountain and sea are bound together,
Then one will bind the other.
A heritage once denied,
Will become a source of pride.
A shadow lies upon the land
And evil confuses the mind of man.
Upon a journey two must go
To sing a song of pain and sorrow.
The final destiny remains unclear
Whether it will be filled with laughter or tears.

Calling a halt, Ellspeth wiped the sweat out of her eyes. The workers slid beneath wagons or into the sliver of shade presented by the ship’s shadow to escape the searing mid-day sun. Silently she counted the number of barrels and crates still on deck. “We need more hands,” she declared. Desperate to get her goods undercover before the heat ruined them, Ellspeth searched the bustling docks. She focused on a man. Not because he busily shifted crates, but because he lounged against a barrel placed in the shade.

His clothes seem of good quality. Maybe he’s a local tradesman. After a second look at the well-worn loose breeches, tight vest, and leather neckband, she corrected herself. Or, the younger son of a chieftain from the Mtwan mountain region. A few quick steps took her to the loafer who watched her approach, amusement sparkling in his light brown eyes.

“You look strong. I will pay you 10 coppers for the day. That is double the going rate. Payment when the Sea Falcon is unloaded.”

Accustomed to an immediate response from her crew, Ellspeth’s fists clenched at his insolent stare when he ignored her and took another bite of his meat roll. His gaze holding hers, he raised his earthen mug in salute and asked. “Do you even have 10 coppers?”

Several long swallows later, he clanked the drained mug down on the barrelhead. The slowness with which he wrapped the remnants of his meal in a small square of white cloth and wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand frustrated Ellspeth even more. Slipping the bundle into a small pouch hanging from his belt, he turned the movement into a courtly bow. His cool tones were at odds with the smile that never left his eyes. “Lead on. I’ll give you an honest day’s work for an honest day’s wages.”

Ellspeth paired herself with him as they worked to unload the ship. There was something different about this dockhand. But what? The heavy bolts of Nerevian silk seemed much lighter whenever he held the other end.

She felt her face warm at the image of his hands unbinding her hair.


Helen Henderson www.helenhenderson-author.webs.com
Stories that take you to the stars, the Old West, or worlds of imagination

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