Floreskand_Wings
FLORESKAND:
WINGS
Morton Faulkner
FLORESKAND:
WINGS
Floreskand, where myth, mystery and magic reign.
The sky above the city of Lornwater darkens as thousands of red tellars, the magnificent birds of the Overlord, wing their way towards Arisa.
Ulran discovers he must get to Arisa within seventy days and unlock the secret of the scheduled rites. He is joined in his quest by the ascetic Cobrora Fhord, who harbours a secret or two, and also the mighty warrior Courdour Alomar, who has his own reasons for going to Arisa. They learn more about each other – whether it’s the strange link Ulran has with the red tellar Scalrin, the lost love of Alomar, or the superstitious heart of Cobrora.
Plagued by assassins, forces of nature and magic, they cross the plains of Floreskand, combat Baronculer hordes, scale snow-clad Sonalume Mountains and penetrate the dark heart of Arisa. Here they uncover truth, evil and find pain and death.
“A fast-paced fantasy adventure as an innkeeper, a city dweller full of surprises, and a long-lived warrior, join forces in a race against time. Their quest is to save the red tellars, the giant birds, which are the wings of the overlord. Along the way even the weather becomes a powerful adversary and the three are tested almost beyond endurance. Tensions and evocative language keep the reader turning the pages to the very end!”- Anne E. Summers, author of The Singing Mountain
An expansive and well thought story, a must-read for lovers of magic and military fantasy. - Kate Marie Collins, best-selling author of Daughter of Hauk, Mark of the Successor and Son of Corse
FLORESKAND:
WINGS
The right of Morton Faulkner to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the author or Manatee Books except for brief quotations used for promotion or in reviews.
.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Manatee Books
ISBN-13: 978-1975907303
ISBN-10: 1975907302
First printing, October, 2017
Copyright 2017 Morton Faulkner
Previously published in a slightly different form
as WINGS OF THE OVERLORD, 2014
Cover
Dreamstime stock-image-60432918
Dedication
To Maria for putting up with my obsessions decade after decade, and to Christine to whom I promised to mention years before I even put pen to paper – Gordon
To Jennifer for never losing faith – Nik
Reviews of the previous version published
as WINGS OF THE OVERLORD:
“A beautiful and atmospheric tale. The author has skilfully developed the characters in a way that you feel you are right there with them on their quest. I can say that I have read many fantasy stories I have truly enjoyed, but only a few have left that lingering haunting feeling within me. Can't wait for the next instalment.”
“Started reading this genre like most people with Tolkien moving on to Feist and Eddings. Grand in scale, well written and certainly the start of the next series on my bookshelf. A gripping read...”
“It took a chapter or so to get into the world of Floreskand and process the characters, language and sense of place, then I was off! Great story-telling which carried me through quickly to its conclusion, making me impatient for the next book in the series. Well drawn characters with enough mystery about their back story to keep you interested. Well-written too... I could see this as a film - now you just need Vigo Mortensen for the hero and you are set.”
“This story has a complex yet well-structured plot presented in a relaxed writing style which easily draws the reader into an alien landscape whose topography, vegetation and inhabitants are described in an almost affectionate detail….
As our three adventurers continue on their journey they undergo both natural and human disasters... The ongoing relationship between the principal characters is explored at some length; the strong, almost mystical presence of Ulran who could win an Iron Man contest without blinking, the superstitious fragility of Cobrora Fhord and the destructive violence of Courdour Alomar … Such twists and turns in the presentation of the plot expand the telling of the tale and there are many duly woven into the pattern to enrich and excite the reader. The journey through the Sonalume Mountains has a strong element of authenticity to it, concentrating on the treacherous ice and snow coupled to an intense bitter cold. This seems to derive from an actual experience that must have been quite wretched at the time.
The final denouement by which our now familiar heroes, at great personal risk and cost … is recounted intensely and is quite a page-turner. The body count is high and contains images of great cruelty.
This is quite clearly the first volume of what is intended to be an entire sequence of stories about the world of Floreskand, a very cultivated creation. Enough links have been established within this tale onto which further adventures, deeds and characters can be connected at later times. It is a well-worked story involving swords and sorcery which will have a very direct appeal to those who admire heroism, but who also like to wade through buckets of blood and gore combined with a dash of mystical sentiment added to provide a degree of sweetness to finish off the feast.”
Morton Faulkner is the writing team of
Nik Morton and Gordon Faulkner
Nik Morton hails from Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear. He joined the Royal Navy as, appropriately, a Writer and has travelled all over the world both privately or with the Navy. He gained his Open University BA Degree in 1987 and left the RN for a civilian career in computing.
Nik has sold articles and numerous genre short stories - espionage, science fiction, fantasy, horror, love, adventure and ghost; many of these have been collected in six themed books: Gifts from a Dead Race, Nourish a Blind Life, Visitors, Codename Gaby and I Celebrate Myself.
He has had 27 books published, among them the Tana Standish psychic spy series (Mission: Prague, Mission: Tehran and Mission: Khyber), the Avenging Cat series (Catalyst, Catacomb and Cataclysm), a vampire thriller set in Malta, Chill of the Shadow, and a romantic adventure set in Tenerife, An Evil Trade. Also he has 9 westerns published: Death at Bethesda Falls, Last Chance Saloon, Blind Justice at Wedlock, The $300 Man, Old Guns, The Magnificent Mendozas, Bullets for a Ballot, Coffin for Cash, and Death for a Dove.
His bestselling writing guide Write a Western in 30 Days – with plenty of bullet points has garnered good reviews and is considered useful for writers of all genre fiction, not only westerns. He has sold illustrations and cartoons and his artwork for hundreds of Tae Kwon Do sequences was featured in Fighters Magazine. Nik learned Chinese kung fu (quanshu) in Malta where Gordon was a black belt; he then teamed up with Gordon to write the first of a fantasy series set in Gordon’s mythical Floreskand – Wings.
He is married to Jen and they live in the Alicante region of Spain; they have a daughter, Hannah and a son-in-law Farhad, and two grandchildren, Darius and Suri.
Gordon Faulkner was born and raised in the West Riding of Yorkshire. During an extended stay in hospital while young he developed what turned out to be a life-long passion for Oriental culture, especially Chinese after reading the travels of Marco Polo. He started training in Oriental martial a
rts in the late 1960s and after joining the RAF in the early 1970s he specialised in Chinese martial arts and Daoist philosophy. During his 22 year career in the RAF, he was one of the founders and General Secretary of the RAF Martial Arts Federation, a post he held until his retirement from military service, when he became a full-time Daoist Arts teacher. This resulted in extensive travel within Europe and North America where he was invited to run seminars and give lectures.
For more years than he cares to remember he has planned and developed the mythical Floreskand, its characters, coinage, history, geology, religion and myths. When he met Nik in Malta during martial arts training, they decided to work on a series of novels set in this colourfully imagined land.
Gordon is a member of the Society for Anglo-Chinese Understanding and a Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society. In 1990 he had the first of what was to eventually become annual trips to China. These trips take students to study at the Beijing University of Physical Education (BUPE) and visit various research establishments, hospitals, temples, markets, bars, etc.
He is the Principal Instructor of the Chanquanshu School of Daoist Arts which he founded in 1983; it now has in excess of 300 registered students. At a ceremony held at BUPE he became Ru Shi Dizi (an outstanding and close disciple) of Professor Zhang Guangde, the creator of Daoyin Yangsheng Gong which is a part of the Chinese National Fitness Program.
And at a Ba Shi ceremony in a temple on Mount Wudang, Central China, he was initiated as a 15th generation Wudang Boxing disciple of Daoist Master You Xuande.
He is the author of Managing Stress with Qigong.
Gordon and his wife, Maria have two children and six grandchildren and live in the Scottish Highlands.
CONTENTS
Map 1 – Floreskand, 2050AC - 1
Map 2 – Arion - 2
Compass points - 2
Prologue 1Sonalumes - 3
Prologue 2 Shadows over Lornwater - 6
Part 1
Third Sapin – Fourth Sabin of Juvous
Chapter 1Quest - 31
Chapter 2Inn - 45
Part 2
Fourth Sabinma of Juvous – First Sabinma of Fornious
Chapter 3Portent - 54
Chapter 4Orb - 66
Chapter 5Seer - 73
Part 3
First Dekin – Third Dloin of Fornious
Chapter 6Teen - 78
Chapter 7Presentiment - 95
Chapter 8Nebulous - 112
Chapter 9Jaryar - 122
Chapter 10 Blighted - 133
Part 4
Third Sufin of Fornious – Fourth Durin of Darous
Chapter 11 Trial - 150
Chapter 12 Talus - 167
Chapter 13 Pre-ordained - 184
Chapter 14 Angevanellian - 198
Chapter 15 Irrea - 210
Chapter 16 Dissension - 221
Part 5
Fourth Sapin of Darous – First Durin of Lamous
Chapter 17 Palace - 235
Chapter 18 Iayen - 245
Chapter 19Ash - 261
Chapter 20 Rite - 280
Epilogue
First Sapin –Sapinma of Lamous - 296
Glossaries
A - Names, places and meanings – 300
B – List of Characters – 307
C – Madurava: compass bearings – 310
D – The Arisan Calendar – 311
E – Lords and Gods – 312
PROLOGUE 1:
SONALUMES
No one can ever truly know or understand these magnificent creatures. How could they? For the red tellars are the Wings of the Overlord.
Dialogues of Meshanel
Snow-clad and ice-bound, the two peaks opposite rose in ragged splendour to pierce the egg-blue sky of dawn. Wisps of cloud gusted and swathed about the rock formations, occasionally obscuring the chasm far below. Scattered on narrow ledges and precipitous ridges, thousands of drab-clothed men stood or crouched, waiting.
Wrapped in an inadequate fawn-fur cloak which freezing gusts of air threatened to whip from him, General Foo-sep braced himself and, his clean-shaven chin set with annoyance, looked down upon his suffering men. His gums ached dully with the insidious cold, yellow teeth chattering. In vain he rubbed fur-gloved hands together.
An entire toumen! Ten thousand men! And they were to take orders from an accursed civilian! He seethed, casting an embittered glare to his right, at a black-clad man of slight frame, parchment-coloured skin and ebony pebbles for eyes.
The wind slapped at the man’s fur cloak and whistled over the bare out-jutting rocks nearby.
Wind-howl was deafening on the outcrop up here, yet only a step back into the shelter of the overhang no sound penetrated; and from here the entire range of the Sonalume Mountains seemed enveloped in this same eerie stillness.
“They will be along soon,” said the civilian, visibly tensing as he leaned over the sloping ledge. His bear-hide boots crackled as he moved, shifting ice from the soles.
Below – a dizzying drop that had claimed too many men already – the bottom indistinct in a slithering purple haze.
Foo-sep discerned the tiny motes of black in the sky and, as the shapes approached, he was struck by their immense size. Framed by the two grey-blue peaks, the birds were coming; he had to admit, grudgingly, as predicted.
“Now!” howled the civilian.
Hoarfrost encrusted brows scowling, Foo-sep lifted his arm and signalled to his men on both sides of the wide, gaping chasm.
Soundlessly, with military precision, the prepare signal was passed through the dispersed ranks.
Foo-sep raised his eyeglass, careful lest he touched his skin with its icy rim.
Stern-faced with the cold and, at last, a sense of purpose, his loyal soldiers were now unfurling nets and arranging stones for quick reloading of their sling-shots.
Foo-sep slowly scanned across the striated rock face.
Abruptly, the birds leapt into focus, their presence taking away his breath in cold wisps. Such an enormous wingspan! And red, O so red! He hesitated at the thought of the task ahead.
His momentary indecision must have been communicated to the other, or perhaps the civilian possessed even more arcane powers than those with which he was credited; “The King desires it,” was all he said.
Foo-sep nodded and moved the eyeglass across to the other rock face where the remaining soldiers were trying in vain to keep warm, quivers ready, bowstrings taut and poised.
Now the birds were entering between the peaks.
Foo-sep waved to a signaller who blew three great blasts on his horn. The sound echoed among the peaks.
In a constant flurry, ice-coated nets looped out, a few attached to arrows, entwining many of the creatures’ wings. Some birds swooped beneath the heavy mesh then swerved, talons raking the men responsible. Others used their wings to sweep soldiers from the ledges as though dusting furniture. Stones hit a few on their bright red crests and they plummeted, stunned, to be caught by outstretched nets beneath; nets that were slowly filling up, straining at their supports.
Watching through his eyeglass, Foo-sep was amazed at the weird silence of the birds: only their frenetically beating wings generated any sound; all other noise originated from his yelling and shrieking soldiers as they flung nets and stones or were dragged from precarious positions. He scowled as a group of fools forgot to keep clear of their own nets; entangled, they were wrenched to giddy, plunging deaths.
Pacing from side to side, Foo-sep watched helplessly as his beloved toumen was decimated. And for what? A few hundred birds!
His attention was diverted to an uncannily large specimen ensnared in nets, its feathers flying as it clawed at two soldiers on a ledge while they loosed sling-stones at the creature.
Yet the missiles had no effect, and the massive curved beak snapped through the brittle mesh as though it was flimsy plains-grass.
As the bird looped, Foo-sep noticed a distinctive marking none of the others seemed t
o possess – a white patch on its throat.
The civilian must have observed it also, because at that instant he gripped Foo-sep’s arm, lips visibly trembling, black pebble-eyes shining. Then, in desperation, the idiot shouted an order that made no sense at all: “Let that one go!”
Numb with cold, bitterly aware of how many good men had suffered already at the talons of that gigantic bird, Foo-sep steeled himself against his better instinct and cupped gloved hands round his mouth.
“Let that one go!” he called.
And the words echoed, mocking: “Let that one go!”
PROLOGUE 2:
SHADOWS OVER LORNWATER
Lornwater, 2050AC*
*[see glossary at end]
I
Be wary, they have a life of their own,
Roaming across ceilings in moonlight,
Fleeing or slinking away in day-bright.
Yet, they hold feelings like me and you.
- A Life of Their Own, from
The Collected Works of Nasalmn Feider (1216-1257)
***
First Sidinma of Juvous
In striking contrast to the brownish spot on her forehead above her nose, Sister Illasa’s complexion held a bluish tinge, despite the flickering torches in the shadowy stone-walled basement room. Deep green silk covered her thickset body, wrapped about her waist and draped over one shoulder. Her bosom heaved as she spoke, her voice demanding and yet sultry. “O, Tanemag, strong king of the Dunsaron, heed me in my conjuration!”