The Bow of Destiny The Bow of Hart Saga: Book 1 by P.H. Solomon Genre: Epic Fantasy
Haunted by his past. Hunted in the present. Uncertain what is real.
Athson has seen things that aren't there and suffered fits since being tragically orphaned as a child at the hands of trolls and Corgren the wizard. When a strange will mentioning a mysterious bow comes into his possession, he's not sure it's real. But the trolls that soon pursue him are all too real and dangerous. And what's worse, these raiders serve Corgren and his master, the hidden dragon, Magdronu, who are responsible for the destruction of his childhood home. Athson is drawn into a quest for the concealed Bow of Hart by the mystic Withling, Hastra, but Athson isn't always sure what's real and who his enemies are. With Corgren and Magdronu involved, Athson must face not only frequent danger but his grasp on reality and the reasons behind his tragic past.
Arrows screeched by his head. "Arrows!" He hoped she heard. He kicked his gelding. It was labored though it ran hard.
They surged from the pursuit as more arrows whizzed past. Athson leaned low over his horse’s neck. Limbreth cried out in pain. The white mare slowed, and Athson's horse overtook her and matched the mare's pace.
He shouted over the noise of thundering hooves. "Where are you hurt?"
"Arm." Limbreth gritted her teeth. Like a shadow, the dark arrow and blood trailed on her lighter clothing and soaked her left arm. They slowed and the trolls rushed closer. "Break it!" Limbreth snarled through gritted teeth. Her sword quivered as her arm lost strength.
He reached for the arrow as they slowed to a trot. He braced one hand against her as she leaned into him with a moan. With the other hand, he snapped off the feathered end of the arrow. He caught a glimpse of her face twisted in pain as he tore the arrow from her arm.
Trolls rushed closer and arrows sang death near them.
"Ride." Limbreth’s weak voice countered the strength of her kicks to the mare's flanks.
Athson trailed behind her. Harsh voices snarled ahead, and Limbreth’s horse thundered into more trolls. They screeched beneath the mare’s hooves. He sensed more trolls struggling out of the underbrush. Limbreth swayed in her saddle, but the mare galloped away.
Athson's horse labored but followed. "Hang on!"
Tense moments passed, but the sight of lights hove into view away in the distance.
Athson urged the horse on, but it slowed and snorted. A groan of effort rolled from the gelding. Limbreth’s horse thundered on and she bobbed atop her mare.
Athson’s gelding broke pace altogether and slowed to a trembling stop. Athson dismounted, aware that trolls raced toward him. The horse collapsed, and he glimpsed several arrows sticking out of the gelding’s chest and lower neck. Blood gushed and stained its coat.
Trolls howled along the trail. Athson wheeled from the dying horse. They were too close. A few ill-aimed arrows whistled past him.
Athson hefted his sword against the fastest of the trolls. He slashed at kobolds and several fell amid spurting blood. Hobgoblins and bugbears leaped at him.
Spark jumped among them and tore out a throat. Athson gasped. The trolls leapt back, on-guard for what attacked them.
Limbreth’s white mare suddenly charged past him into the boiling mass of trolls. Bodies flew aside, and the trolls fell back in momentary confusion.
"Come on, vermin!" Limbreth's horse stood exposing her good right arm. Her left arm still shook. The rising moon gleamed on her pale clothing, her swords and her white horse. She glimmered silver in the light.
The trolls hesitated.
"Cowards!" Limbreth charged into them.
Athson leapt over his horse with a wordless shout. He hacked and slashed at the nearest trolls. Limbreth pummeled with the hilt of her one usable sword and slashed at the trolls lunging at her.
P. H. Solomon lives in the greater Birmingham, AL area where he strongly dislikes yard work and sanding the deck rail. However, he performs these duties to maintain a nice home for his loved ones as well as the family’s German Shepherds. In his spare time, P. H. rides herd as a Computer Whisperer on large computers called servers (harmonica not required). Additionally, he enjoys reading, running, most sports and fantasy football. Having a degree in Anthropology, he also has a wide array of more “serious” interests in addition to working regularly to hone his writing. The Bow of Destiny is his first novel-length title with more soon to come.