All my life I was an avid reader.  I always thought "I can write a book".  Over many years of trying, I ended up with poetry and short stories, but no book.  Last year I turned fifty and again sat down with an idea.  This time my short story kept getting longer and longer.  Finally, I said I think I am writing an actual book.  So after over 300 pages and 95,000 words, I decided that the book was complete.  Luckily, the story was not over.  I am working on book two right now.  I will occasionally post chapters to read.  Please tell me which characters you like, or which you like to hate.

Prologue: Rightful Heir

Prologue

         The young woman sat astride her horse on the cliff overlooking the harbor with the breeze blowing her skirt around her legs.  She knew the view in the light of day would have been breathtaking.  She had ridden here many times with the wind blowing her hair and the warm sun touching her back.  To her left was the salty, sapphire water of the Channel of Bones, with the green hills of the Isle of Bones beyond that.  To her right was Capital Bay, and right in front of her was the King’s city, Flickersee, with it's towers, cupolas, and colorful flags. 

         Flickersee, in old Elvish, meant fire city.  The white wall around the city stood thirty meters high at its tallest and had three main gates, the Royal Highway Gate, which opened out onto the main highway of the realm, the Harbor Gate, opening to the southern harbor district, and the Sunset Gate, in the western wall.  The thread of fire that followed the tops of the walls around the city gave a vermilion glow to the white of the walls and towers.  Outsiders claimed the eternal fire was controlled through magic, but those who lived within the castle knew that it was rope, soaked in oil, constantly replaced by a small army of flicker gerros, fire guards.

         The waters of the channel were usually calm, but tonight there was drizzle and a steady wind, that caused small waves to roll across the water.  Nothing harder than drizzle had fallen on the kingdom in a long time.  The drought had brought hardship to everyone, particularly the farmers.  The woman’s long black hair dampened into little ringlets around her face.  Whitecaps swelled in the channel, and when the moon cast its light, the tips of the waves looked like sparkly jewels shining in the black water.  The moon peeked out of the clouds now and then allowing her to see the three masted schooner far below making for the Strait of Delage, or Storms.  Her face was composed as she patiently waited.  By looking at her, no one would have known that her future, and that of her unborn child's, rested on what would happen next.

         At just the right moment, the clouds separated, allowing her to see the two gunboats leave the dock.  Each boat held six cannons, and in a battle, their muzzles could launch half a dozen flaming balls per hour.  They were the most dreaded ships afloat, fast and, ultimately, deadly.  She held her breath, and when the cannon balls hit the schooner, tears rolled down her cheeks.  The ship became a floating bonfire for a few short minutes.  The sails of the ship, with the King's Crest of a black falcon on a yellow background, burned bright and fast.  The wood of the ship was still ablaze as it started to sink.  Steam rose off the water as the ship turned tail and disappeared into the black depths.

         The woman turned her horse south, and rode to the Royal Highway, where the wagon was waiting.  With only one month left until the child would come, she dare not ride too swiftly, as early labor would put all their plans in jeopardy.  She trusted her three traveling companions with her life.  They had only had a few days to prepare, but she knew that all would be as she requested.  The female, an elf, was her confidante and lifelong companion.  The two men were both skilled swordsmen.  One, her Captain of the Guard, had size enough to keep most bandits at bay.  His sword was over a meter long.  It was crafted of obsidian steel, tempered by ancient dwarven blacksmiths, centuries ago.  Many men would not be able to lift it, let alone wield it in battle.  The other was younger, but no less talented; he kept an iron sword on each hip.  The horse she had been riding was tied to the wagon, while the woman climbed into the back.  They had laid a feather mattress in the wagon bed to try to make her comfortable, and there were oranges, apples, and a loaf of bread.  They pulled a large skin over the back to hide her and tied it in place.  Her faithful dog walked alongside them.  She offered up a prayer to the gods for her child's safety, and the journey began.

Hello,  I am a new author in the fantasy genre.  My first book is called Rightful Heir.  I will post the prologue for everyone to read.  I am presently working on the sequel, and I hope to find an agent or publisher soon.  Please follow me for updates and further chapters from my book.