Prologue

(If you haven't read Darsonus and Ree'al this gives you enough background for Lormia and Ree'al to be stand alone)

The man on the bed was naked and alone. He smelled too bad even for the cheap whores who frequented the River Inn. Here in the cesspool that was River Town, Ree'al had been drunk for two weeks. That's what the bartender told him this morning when he asked for a drink.

"Why will you not give me a drink?" Ree'al asked, carefully pronouncing each word.

"You made me swear not to, sir," the bartender answered diffidently moving back out of reach.

"What? Why?"

"You said that you would drink for two weeks and then I must stop you."

"Ha! I do not think you can stop me," Ree'al cringed at the headache his outburst had produced.

"No sir, I doesn't think so either, but you made me swear on my honor that I would try to stop you."

"You do not have any honor," Ree'al dismissed the thought.

"Sir, please forgive me, but you told me to say, I have more honor than you do."

Ree'al collapsed into a chair. "That certainly sounds like something I would tell you to say."

"Does you want some watered wine?" the bartender asked.

"Yes. Please."

"Maybe you'd put on some clothes while you drink it," the bartender suggested as he handed a cup over.

Ree'al looked down noticing that he had no shirt, pants, nor under clothes. "Good idea!" he laughed.

He made it as far as his room and collapsed face down into bed.

Hours later a cold bucket of water roused him but a little. A second did the job. "You missed a spot," Ree'al spoke through his pain.

"Get two more buckets," a woman spoke.

Her voice was beautiful; Ree'al didn't want to hear it. He turned over, now face up. Naked, drunk, and smelly, any of these three qualities should chase the woman away. He had yet to open his eyes but after two more soakings, he cracked them open. Ree'al blinked several times to clear his vision and he was able to focus on her. She was handsome. A strange appellation for a woman but it fit. Her chin was large, her nose larger than most women's and her eyes wide set, but she was pretty, even beautiful. The woman was fit, well muscled for a woman, with smallish breasts and slim hips. She could easily be taller than Ree'al. Her blond hair pulled back and kept together with a ribbon.

"What do you think that you want from me?" he asked.

"You'll take me to the far north, to Amamorn. There you will take me to the Temple of Ginjarem," she looked at him in disgust. "There I will pray for my husbands honor so he'll be well treated by the God of the Dead.

Ree'al felt naked under her gaze. He found his pants and began to dress. "Why would I do this?" he snorted.

"Because a Seer told me that I would meet a great warrior and that warrior would pick a companion for my journey."

"Seers just fuck with your mind. I am no great warrior and I wouldn't pick myself," Ree'al scoffed.

"No you're not. I wouldn't pick you, but Tarsus did."

"What?" Ree'al asked incredulously. "Why would he pick me?" he shrugged.

"How should I know? But he did, and he is the great warrior the seer spoke of. I'm certain."

"There are no temples of Ginjarem outside Sulvara," Ree'al suddenly knew he would be going to Amamorn.

"There is at least one," she looked at him in disgust. "Will you be drunk the whole time?"

"Give me a day to get shed of this hangover and we'll see," he grinned. "Who are you?"

"Lormia Osvega."

"An honor to meet you, I'm almost sure."

Chapter 1 »