The Sun Godâs Heir: Return
The Sun Godâs Heir
Genre: Historical Fantasy/Action and Adventure
Publisher: Hypatia Press,
Date of Publication: January 18, 2017
Number of pages: 347
Word Count: 108,000
Cover Artist: Kelly Shorten
Tagline: To defeat a brutal pharaoh re-embodied in 17th century France, RenÃ© Gilbert must fight his way through pirates and slavers to Morocco and reclaim the power of his own ancient past. To succeed, he must remember.
For three thousand years a hatred burns -In seventeenth century France two souls incarnate, one born the child of a prosperous merchant, the other, determined to continue a brutal incarnation begun long ago.
In ancient Egypt two brothers are disciples of the pharaoh, Akhenaten. When Pharaoh dies, the physician takes the knowledge given and goes to Greece to begin a new mystery school. The general makes a deal with the priests and becomes pharaoh. One remembers, one does not.
The year is 1671. RenÃ© Gilbertâs destiny glints from the blade of a slashing rapier. The only way he can protect those he loves is to regain the power and knowledge of an ancient lifetime. From Bordeaux to Spain to Morocco, RenÃ© is tested and with each turn of fate he gathers enemies and allies, slowly reclaiming the knowledge and power earned centuries ago. For three thousand years a secret sect has waited in Morocco.
After ages in darkness, Horemheb screams, âI am.â Using every dark art, he manages to maintain the life of the body he has bartered for. Only one life force in the world is powerful enough to allow him to remain within embodiment, perhaps forever. Determined to continue a reign of terror that once made the Nile run red, he grows stronger with each life taken.
The boatswain, a large man with scars on his arms and face, walked over to stand in front of RenÃ©. âChain him to the mast.â
Their gazes met.
âDonât look at me, boy,â he said, backhanding RenÃ© in the face. âLook down at the deck when I talk to you. Youâre some over-fed noblemanâs kid thinkinâ you make the rules. Iâm surprised you ainât cryinâ for your mama. You got a mama, boy?â he asked and laughed. When RenÃ© didnât answer, he hit him again. âI asked you a question, boy. Donât try my patience, cause I ainât got none.â
âMy mother died when I was born,â RenÃ© said, watching the manâs feet to see how he moved. He was cataloging everything he could see out of the corners of his eyes.
âWell, not to worry, youâll be seeing her soon.â The boatswain turned to walk away and then turned back and hit RenÃ© again. âI had to do that,â he said, and walked away laughing.
Though they had chained him in a way that didnât allow him to sit, RenÃ© had enough slack to turn and see most of the ship. He was aboard an English slave ship. She was an older carrack in design, still with the large forecastle. She had seen better days, though. The fact that she was still on the seas suggested either a cutthroat reputation or an experienced captain. Under the wear, the ship was surprisingly clean, her ropes and sails newly repaired and in good order. Second rate though she might be, she was seaworthy. This was a veteran crew, competent in their tasks. It wouldnât be easy getting free, and even if he could, where would he escape to in the middle of the ocean? Donât rush fate. One thing at a time. Do what you can do, he heard the Maestro say. It was clear he would have to pick a fight, and hope he could survive long enough to begin creating allies. The next time the big boatswain walked by, RenÃ© laughed.
âWhat are you findinâ so funny, boy?â The boatswain stuck his face within inches of RenÃ©âs.
RenÃ© had noticed the boatswain had one leg shorter than the other, and was certain the big man would be touchy on that point. âYou walk funny, thatâs all,â said RenÃ©, raising his voice. It was of no use to him if he got beat up and no one knew why.
All work within the sound of RenÃ©âs voice crashed to a complete stop. Silence reigned. RenÃ© had guessed right. Now he could only hope he would survive his insight.
The boatswain stood in absolute disbelief, his face turning redder by the moment. âWhat did you say?â Spittle flew from his mouth.
Even the captain had turned to watch. RenÃ© counted on the fact Gaspardâs agent had given the captain a great deal of money, along with explicit instructions that didnât include throwing a dead boy overboard. What he didnât know was how close to dead the agent considered acceptable.
âI said you walk funny,â RenÃ© saidâlouder this time, so there would be no mistaking it.
âDo you know what a cat is, boy?â the boatswain said, clearly beyond rational thought. RenÃ© could see the veins standing out in his neck and temples, his eyes shot red with blood.
âA small animal?â RenÃ© asked.
There was a laugh from the men standing around the mast. The boatswain took one look around, and the laugh died.
âYou, James, bring me the cat. I donât think this boy has ever seen a real one. Your education has been sadly incomplete, boy. Youâll be thankinâ me for this. I promise you.â The boatswainâs voice was a rough whisper.
James walked over and handed the Cat-O-Nine-Tails to the boatswain. As he caught RenÃ©âs eye, he sadly shook his head. The cat had nine long thongs of blood-encrusted leather dangling from a handle, knots tied along the length of each thong.
âThis hereâs a cat, boy. As you can see, it ainât no small animal. Now, thereâs a skill and a talent to usinâ a cat, both of which Iâm proud to say I have. You see, you need to take care the thongs donât get all stuck together with blood and skin, which theyâre wont to do. If that happens, the catâll take yer organs right out, and thatâs always a bad thing. So you need to run your fingers between the thongs every couple of strokes, to keep âem separate. I gotta tell youâas much pride as I take in usinâ the cat, sometimes Iâm forgetful. I try to keep count, but before I know it, I plumb forget to clean the damn thing. I surely hope that donât happen today.â
âI also have a skill and a talent, and I will kill you with it,â RenÃ© said quietly.
For one second, the boatswain paused, confusion written across his face. âTurn him around, and chain him up. You there, strip off his shirt.â
About the Author:
Award winning novelist and international playwright Elliott Baker grew up in Jacksonville, Florida. With four musicals and one play published and produced in the United States, New Zealand, Portugal, England, and Canada, Elliott is pleased to release his first novels. The Sun Godâs Heir: Return, book one of the trilogy, was released this past January, and book two, Rebirth will come out in April, followed in July by the third and final book of the series, Redemption. A member of the Authors Guild and the Dramatists Guild, Elliott lives in New Hampshire with his wife Sally Ann.
@elliottbaker on Twitter
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