Prince Tor and his brothers must take part in a quest, the winner of which will earn the right to take over the throne. Clues have been left to direct the competitors to each location, providing hints as to who or what they need to take with them on each stage of their journey. What started off as an adventure, a chance to make new friends and catchup with old acquaintances, has turned into a deadly nightmare. Tor is only half way through the quest, but already he has lost companions,and witnessed the death of one of his brothers, making him realise how serious the quest has become.
In a world full of witches, wizards, mythical creatures and monsters, Tor and his team must use all of their wits, skills and magical ability to solve the remaining puzzles before any more of them die.
When the latest clue requires them to seek "a guide from another world", finding the person is the easy part; persuading them to risk their life for a group of stranger will be a bigger challenge.
Excerpt
Dying is becoming rather inconvenient was his last thought as the sword was slowly pulled from his limp body, allowing him to slip to the ground.
His attacker, wiping the bloody
sword on the immaculately tailored trousers of the still twitching corpse,
grinned. He looked at his feet, then at
the nearly new black leather boots on his victim, trying to decide if they were
his size. He didn’t catch the slight
movement out of the corner of his eye, nor hear the soft whistle the arrow
emitted as it flew through the air. He
didn’t feel his spinal cord sever as the arrow found its target. By the time he hit the floor he was already
dead.
The archer rushed
over, placing his hand on his murdered friend’s neck. Feeling no pulse, he let out a sigh.
“Oh Patrick, not
again,” he whispered. “When are you
going to learn to take better care of your body?” He slowly stood up, muscles aching. It had been a long, strenuous, fight. He needed a warm, relaxing bath and a cold
tankard of ale, but that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.
He turned round,
hearing singing in the corridor behind him.
The old man was still dancing and throwing a crystal ball into the air
and catching it. They had won. He should have been happy, but all he could
feel was regret. Was this much loss of
life really worth it?
It was dark
outside by the time he joined the others by the camp fire, unceremoniously
dropping Patrick’s body behind him.
“I see Patrick
didn’t make it again,” a gruff voice commented from the other side of the fire. “He’s going to be mad in the morning. That was his favourite shirt.”
“I told him not
to wear it,” another voice responded.
A leg was pulled
from one of the chickens roasting over the fire and handed to him. He ate hungrily, juices dripping into his
beard, cursing as the hot meat burned his tongue. He broke some bread from a nearby loaf, not
caring that it was stale. “I wish we had
some butter,” he murmured.
Looking around he
noticed the old man, sitting by himself, under a tree. He was staring at the crystal ball. Tor could see his lips moving, but he was too
far away to make out what he was saying.
“I take it he has not figured it out yet,” he said, to nobody in
particular.
“No,” came the
reply. “The last clue said something
about elementary writing, whatever that means.”
“Elemental, not
elementary.” Nobody had heard Ellen
approach, but they all looked up upon hearing her soft voice. “It ended with ‘elemental writing will show
you the way’.”
Tor smiled. Was there anything Ellen didn’t
remember? The frown across her pale face
showed she was still thinking about the latest puzzle. “Are the others on their way?” Tor
enquired. “This chicken is edible, but I
could really do with one of Seth’s stews right now.”
“They should be
here soon,” Ellen replied, her frown turning into a grin, which instantly fell
from her face as her eyes drifted from Tor to the shape behind him. “Bloody hell Patrick,” she swore. “If you were not already dead I would murder
you. That shirt was clean on this
morning.” Not many people could make
Ellen angry, but Patrick seemed to excel at it.
“When you have all finished eating, could one of you undress him for
me?” she asked. She leaned closer to the
body. “I had better have his trousers as
well,” she added, noticing the dark blood stains made visible by the firelight.
Less than an hour
later, she was sitting by the fire, eyes closed, softly chanting, as though in
a trance. The blood on the shirt in her
lap slowly disappeared, as though being sucked away, and the tear caused by the
sword became increasingly smaller until there was no trace of it left in the
silk. When she had finished she neatly
folded it and placed it on the already clean trousers.
“I still find it
fascinating watching you work,” Tor said, the admiration he felt evident in his
voice. A twig snapped behind him and he
span round, sword in hand. His tense muscles
relaxed as Seth stepped out from behind a tree, leading a donkey.
“What did I
miss?” he asked, tying the donkey to the tree and helping its rider dismount. Once on the ground, the dwarf slowly made his
way to the fire.
“Not much,” came
the reply. “We got here just in
time. Had to fight Gallad’s men to get
in and I grabbed the last ball just before him.” Tor looked down at the ground, sadness
creeping over his face. “Gallad is
dead. He fell on his own sword as soon
as he realised there were no balls left.”
He lifted his
head to stare at the fire, tears forming in his eyes. Gallad had been a good brother, though they
had rarely spoken over the last few years.
He had always loved court life and could never understand Tor’s need to
be in the forest, away from people and court politics. Murmurs of sympathy crept round the camp as
Bellak stomped over, throwing the ball on the ground in disgust.
“I do not get it,”
the old man grumbled. “I have tried
everything I can think of. Nothing
changes this from being just a plain glass sphere. There are no words anywhere. I cannot break it open. Magic does not work. I have tried every spell I have ever heard
of. I do not care how elemental the
words are, they are of no use to me if I cannot see them.” He sat down, still frowning, and grabbed a
piece of chicken.
Ellen had finished
her work and moved closer to the warmth of the fire. Patrick’s body was now only partially
clothed, but nobody took the trouble to cover it up. “Serves him right if he is cold when he
awakes,” she muttered, when asked if she wanted a blanket fetched.
She picked up the
ball and started tossing it into the air, then catching it again, quietly
repeating “elemental” over and over again.
Suddenly she threw it into the fire.
Everyone jumped back as sparks flew in all directions.
“What the hell do
you think you are doing you stupid girl,” Bellak cried, as he rushed to the
fire to retrieve the ball. Muttering an
incantation, he put his hand into the fire to remove the ball. He let out a yell, seeing words forming on
the surface, dull and blurred, but slowly getting clearer. It was not long before everyone round the
fire could read them.
From
another world comes your guide
To
show you where the clue doth hide
Over
hill and under mountain
It
lies inside the maiden’s fountain.
Across
the desert you must seek
The
hidden way, from those so meek
Two
must go into the heart
But
only one can then depart
Author Bio
Trudie Collins is the author of the Tor’s Quest fantasy series. Having been born and raised in England, she emigrated to Australia with her husband and young son in 2001 and now lives near Sydney. She began writing when travelling to work on the train each day. Trudie works for one of the big 4 Australian banks as a technical business analyst and writes fantasy novels as a way of escaping reality. All 5 books in the series are available on Kindle through Amazon.
Giveaway
Trudie wrote the first line of this book a long time ago when she was listening to the radio while driving to work one morning. The DJ asked people to phone in with what would be the first line of a novel, were they ever to write one, and she I instantly thought of this one.
How would you start your own novel? Email the first line only to Trudie at t_l_collins@hotmail.com (title of the email must be 'First Line') by the end of February 2015 and she will send a Kindle (Mobi) copy of The Guide (Tor's Quest # 1) to her favourite ten.
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