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Saturday 13 December 2014

My best Epic Fantasy reads: 2012-2014

Aside from the Song of Fire and Ice series (Game of Thrones etc.) - a true epic fantasy classic - here are a few other good reads from the last couple of years, that I'd recommend.

The Kingkiller Chronicle (Patrick Rothfuss)
The Name of the Wind (Book #1)
The Wise Man's Fear (Book #2)

Truly 'epic' fantasy, the Kingkiller Chronicle series is a great read for anyone who loves traditional epic fantasy. Both books are 'door-stoppers' - immersing the reader in a richly drawn world. It's the story of a talented young man, with a great destiny. I must admit I preferred the first book, to the second. That said, it's a gripping series that I would recommend to anyone who enjoys epic fantasy.

Read my reviews for these books on Goodreads to find out my thoughts on this series:
The Name of the Wind
The Wise Man's Fear

The Broken Empire Series (Mark Lawrence)
Prince of Thorns (Book #1)
King of Thorns (Book #2)
Emperor of Thorns (Book #3)

This epic fantasy is a compelling, 'dark' series that's a little different from others in the genre. The main character is an 'anti-hero' - a damaged, violent and immoral young man named Jorg. I don't usually go in for dark fantasy, but this series is so well-written and beautifully crafted that I would highly recommend this series as well.

Although I didn't review the first two books (I did rate each of them 5 stars), you can read my review for Book #3 on Goodreads:
Emperor of Thorns

The Prince of Fools (Book #1 The Red Queen's War) - Mark Lawrence
This is the first book in Mark Lawrence's new series. It's set in the same world as the Broken Empire series, but follows a new character on an incredible adventure. Absolutely loved this book - even more than the novels in Lawrence's first series. Highly recommend!

Read my review on Goodreads
Prince of Fools


Raven's Shadow (Anthony Ryan)
Blood Song (Book #1)
Tower Lord (Book #2)

Traditional epic fantasy adventure that's fast-moving and beautifully written. It's the story of a young man, abandoned by his father in a harsh order, where he must become a great warrior - or die trying. I enjoyed both novels in the series so far, although the story hasn't taken the direction I'd expected...

Read my reviews on Goodreads, for more details about these books:
Blood Song
Tower Lord

I could go on... Being a voracious reader, I have chewed my through many more books than these! However, if you love epic fantasy, and are looking for some good books to get lost in, why not give one of the above a try?
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Monday 17 November 2014

Kindle Free Book Promotion: Journey of Shadows


Do you love traditional epic fantasy? Looking for a truly epic adventure with characters you can truly relate to?

Grab JOURNEY OF SHADOWS (Book one of the Palâdnith Chronicles) FREE for five days only on Amazon! 

Offer runs from 17-21 November - so don't miss out!

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Would you like to read the prequel novella to the Palâdnith Chronicles for free?


Sign up to Sam's monthly newsletter and receive a FREE copy of DEEP-SPIRE (PDF format). Newsletter subscribers will also get sneak previews of upcoming novels, behind the scenes 'extras', epic fantasy book reviews & recommendations, and podcasts from Sam!




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Sunday 16 November 2014

REVIEW: Half a King by Joe Abercrombie

Half a King (Shattered Sea, #1)Half a King by Joe Abercrombie
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A great epic fantasy read about revenge and courage. This is a gripping coming of age story, which is refreshingly free of fantasy stereotype.

Prince Yarvi never wanted to be king, but after a twist of fate puts him on the throne, he must forge a new path for himself. Untested, crippled, and with a self-esteem in the gutter, Yarvi knows he's a poor choice for king. However, when his new life is torn from him, and he has all the trappings of privilege stripped away - Yarvi embarks on a quest for revenge. If he survives it, he will be a changed man.

I loved this story - Yarvi is a flawed character and one that's easy to relate to. The action is swift and the gritty, Viking-age inspired fantasy world is memorable. Abercrombie's characterisation is excellent, with a clever blending of the lines between good and evil.

Highly recommend!

View all my reviews

Sunday 26 October 2014

KINDLE BOOK PROMOTION: JOURNEY OF SHADOWS

Ready for an adventure? Fast-paced, character-driven traditional epic fantasy

Grab JOURNEY OF SHADOWS (Book one of the Palâdnith Chronicles) for 99 cents for five days only on Amazon! 

Offer runs from 27-31 October - so don't miss out!

Do you love traditional epic fantasy, but are looking for a truly epic adventure with characters you can truly relate to?

JOURNEY OF SHADOWS (shortlisted for the Sir Julius Vogel Awards, 2014) is the first novel in the Palâdnith Chronicles, a traditional epic fantasy series that's fast-paced and full of classic epic fantasy elements: coming of age, good versus evil, and a quest. However, my characters are people just like you and me, thrown into an epic adventure and forced to deal with the consequences. 

Have you ever dreamed of a different life - one of adventure, excitement and purpose?

Seth, Eni and Val have. Yet, dreaming is all they have done. Until, the day fate intervenes.

Three brothers. One legacy that binds them.

JOURNEY OF SHADOWS introduces you to the world of Palâdnith. I let my readers discover Palâdnith, and the scheming realmlords who rule it, through the eyes of my characters. You won't find pages of back-story and lengthy descriptions. You're launched into the story from the first pages!

Sounds like the kind of epic fantasy you are looking for?

Get a copy of JOURNEY OF SHADOWS for 99 cents from Amazon while this offer lasts.

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Would you like to read the prequel novella to the Palâdnith Chronicles for free?


Sign up to Sam's monthly newsletter and receive a FREE copy of DEEP-SPIRE (PDF format). Newsletter subscribers will also get sneak previews of upcoming novels, behind the scenes 'extras', epic fantasy book reviews & recommendations, and podcasts from Sam!



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Thursday 9 October 2014

BOOK REVIEW: Prince of Fools by Mark Lawrence

Prince of Fools (The Red Queen’s War, #1)Prince of Fools by Mark Lawrence
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Best book I've read this year! I wasn't sure that I'd enjoy this as much as the Broken Empire series, but I did. Actually, I think I liked this book more.

There were a number of reasons this is a great read. The first is the characterisation. Lawrence did a fabulous job of realising Jalan's character. The book is written in the first person, which means that we feel that we are 'living' Jal's adventure alongside him. We see the entire world through his eyes. This can be a challenge for a writer to pull off well, but Lawrence does one of the best jobs of it I've ever come across. What I like, is that what Jal tells us about himself, and what we witness, often starkly contrast with each other. He tells us he's a coward, a womaniser, and a liar - but we see that he is also grossly insecure, terrified that anyone might think him a coward, and that he has a deeply sensitive side. He's not that different to a lot of us really, and to read about a man most people can relate to, is what really brings this adventure to life. He's far removed from the usual epic fantasy stereotype - although, anyone who has read the Broken Empire series will know that Mark Lawrence doesn't use stereotypical lead characters.

The second thing I love about this book, is it's structure. It's linear - we start at the beginning and don't catch breath till the final pages. Lawrence's first series used a more complex structure, shifting us about in time and place, but the more 'classical' structure meant that the pacing and suspense in this novel was nail-biting. The only slow point for me was when Jal runs into our 'hero' from the first series - Jorg Ancrath. Must say, that apart from getting to see how the two stories overlap, I found this section a bit ponderous, and was happy when Jal continued his journey north.

I found the novel hard to put down, and really enjoyed returning to the world Lawrence created. The best thing, for me though was Jal. He's a complex character with huge potential to be developed further. I can't wait to see where he'll end up!

I highly recommend this novel to anyone who loves dark epic fantasy adventure.

View all my reviews

Saturday 4 October 2014

THE WELL OF SECRETS... epic fantasy adventure on its way

Book Three of the Palâdnith Chronicles – work in progress…


I’m just under the half-way point of writing the manuscript (moving country has slowed the progress down slightly!), and it’s become clear that this is going to be the biggest book of the series. There are a lot of sub-plots to bring together, many stories to wrap up and a host of questions that need answering.

Yes – this story is going to be epic, in all senses!

The book may still be a work in progress – although I am steaming ahead now I’m settled again – but the cover is ready to go. This is my favourite cover of the series and, like the others, is the work of David Ortega – a graphic artist based in Spain.

If you enjoyed JOURNEY OF SHADOWS and THE CITADEL OF LIES then you’ll be wondering what THE WELL OF SECRETS holds. Here are a few lines to whet your appetite… There will be more details about the book coming soon.
 


THE WELL OF SECRETS

Book Three of the Palâdnith Chronicles

 
The greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it…

A year has passed since Seth, Eni and Val Falkyn found Captain Tobin dead on the road to Marlock – and the Collar of Jade missing.

After their epic journeys across Palâdnith, and narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Moden Walkers, the brothers are ready to begin their training with Floriana DeSanith. The sorceress has promised to help them become Sentorân. They are the last of an order thought to have been extinguished years earlier.

The brothers return home to Barrowthorne to begin their training, and are met with a cold reception from their father. Time is short and they are far from ready when trouble comes.

Their discovery of an ancient portal to Moden – the underworld prison where their mother has been trapped for other thirty years – means the time for waiting is at an end.

The Well of Secrets has been lost for a thousand years. It is hidden, in the lowest, darkest depths of the Esquill stronghold: Deep-Spire. It is the only way in to Moden. Yet, it is not a safe path.

It seems that some secrets are best left uncovered…

Thursday 2 October 2014

My newsletter - and the landscape that inspired my epic fantasy

My first newsletter has officially been launched! To keep updated, just sign up below:

Sign up to Sam's monthly newsletter and receive a FREE copy of DEEP-SPIRE (PDF format). Newsletter subscribers will also get sneak previews of upcoming novels, behind the scenes 'extras', epic fantasy book reviews & recommendations, and podcasts from Sam!



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Want to know what's in this month's newsletter? 


It’s been a hectic last couple of months. After a year in my beloved Rome (where I lived for many years in my twenties), I’m now back in New Zealand.

To be specific – I’m now living in the landscape that inspired the Central Omagen region of Palâdnith (the fantasy world of my current epic fantasy series). The real name of this region in Central Otago – the heartland of the province of Otago, located in the centre of New Zealand’s South Island.

Barrowthorne, Central Omagen – inspired by…

Bannockburn, Central Otago – a wild, rocky landscape surrounded by rugged mountains, turquoise lakes and rivers, and dry hills covered in wild thyme. Barrowthorne is the home of my three heroes: Seth, Eni and Val Falkyn. They leave the area in their early twenties, but the third book in the series, THE WELL OF SECRETS, brings them home.

It’s spring here at the moment. The hills are carpeted with fruit blossom and the air scented with pine and thyme. It’s often windy (today it’s blowing a gale) and the wide sky is constantly changing.

Want to know what Central Omagen really looks like? Here’s a picture (courtesy of Central Otago Tourism):


It really does look like this!

Wednesday 24 September 2014

Newsletter #1 out soon - get ready for the launch!

The long-awaited first issue of my monthly newsletter is close to going out - and there's a lot of news to update you about!

THE WELL OF SECRETS is well underway (due out at the end of this year), and - as always - the story has started to take on a life of its own! In my first newsletter, I give you some details about the story line...

As well as keeping you updated with the book's progress, and a few sneak previews and behind the scenes 'extras', I will also include epic fantasy book reviews and recommendation. I love to read epic fantasy as much as you do - and news about a good book needs to be shared! I've also decided to record some podcasts - readings from my published, and upcoming, books.

Plus, when you sign up for my newsletter you get a free copy of DEEP-SPIRE. This is the prequel novella to the Paladnith Chronicles, and a must-read for anyone embarking on the series. It takes place around forty years before the first novel in the series, JOURNEY OF SHADOWS, begins.

To get a PDF copy of the novella, just enter your email address into the field below and hit subscribe!

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Sign up to Sam's monthly newsletter and receive a FREE copy of DEEP-SPIRE (PDF format). Newsletter subscribers will also get sneak previews of upcoming novels, behind the scenes 'extras', epic fantasy book reviews & recommendations, and podcasts from Sam!


Saturday 20 September 2014

How to finish that manuscript – advice for aspiring authors

Another one bites the dust!

Often, the biggest challenge for anyone who dreams of becoming an author – is actually finishing that damn manuscript!

I have been writing for years now. However, the first decade was filled with drawers of half-finished stories. My classic pattern was to reach page 100 and then throw away the bloody thing in disgust. Either, I’d just discovered the story wasn’t working, or it was boring me to death. Whatever the reason, I had just spent a couple of months on a story that I would never finish – again. Fast forward a few years and I have self-published one epic fantasy novella and three full-length novels, as well as a Lord of the Rings fan fiction series. I have also written a number of non-fiction works, and fiction novels under pen names. 

These days I rarely begin novels that I never finish.

Some hints to make sure you finish that manuscript

I could come up with a detailed list of all ways to ensure you get that story written – but in the end it boils down to three key pieces of advice:

Write what you love: I write the stories I have always wanted to read. I throw myself into epic adventures that have me clamouring to return to them. I have to keep writing because I have to know what happens! This advice might seem like a no-brainer but so many of us start out writing the novels we think we ‘should’ write. Is it any wonder then, that we can’t stand the sight of it after a couple of months? Writing a story you love is hard enough, don’t throw rocks in your path by trying to write anything else.

Plan it: I’m not saying you have to sit down and plan the story out in meticulous detail – you’re likely to get bored half-way if you do. However, a story outline and a rough chapter plan, will help ensure that a) the story actually works and b) you think about important elements like structure, pacing and characters. If you’re embarking on an epic fantasy, make sure you do some serious world-building before you write, including summaries of the magic system and a potted history of the world your characters inhabit.Otherwise your story will lack credibility and depth. If you don't believe in the world you've created, no one else will.

Approach it as a professional: If you’re serious about writing, then act as if it is a job. Once you self-publish and list that book on Amazon (or any other self-publishing platform), then you are officially ‘in business’. Self-publishing was a huge motivation for me to finish my novels. Once you approaching your writing as a professional, your entire relationship with it changes. Suddenly, it isn’t such a slog. You find yourself scheduling time, setting milestones and treating your writing with the seriousness it deserves.

Get over the idea of the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype. You know, the guy who stares blankly at his laptop screen, waiting for inspiration to strike, for his muse to whisper in his ear. That guy could be waiting a long time... 

The act of creation is not some elusive power that only the select few master. You can have all the talent in the world, but if you don’t actually finish anything, who will care? Write the kind of books you crave to read, plan before you throw yourself in, and treat it as a profession - and you will have that manuscript written in no time!

Sunday 27 July 2014

DEEP-SPIRE Kindle giveaway!



DEEP-SPIRE is currently free on Amazon, for just two days (26-27 July).

Get a copy while you can!

But if you don't manage to get a copy, don't despair - sign up to my monthly newsletter and receive a free PDF copy of  DEEP-SPIRE (my epic fantasy prequel to the Paladnith Chronicles).

Sign up using the form below!


Sign up to Sam's monthly newsletter and receive a FREE copy of DEEP-SPIRE (PDF format). Newsletter subscribers will also get sneak previews of upcoming novels and exciting updates!


Monday 23 June 2014

DEEP-SPIRE is about to launch...

After months of hard work, DEEP-SPIRE (the prequel novella to the Palâdnith Chronicles) is very close to publication! For those of you who have been awaiting its release, here is the Prologue from the novella. Watch this space for more details on when DEEP-SPIRE will be available on Amazon.



“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”
― Plato

We guide the hearts, heads and hands of those who rule, but do not covet such power for ourselves.
― Sentorân creed




Prologue

A Mid-winter’s Dawn

Deep-Spire, Central Omagen


It was a bleak day to die.
The cold air bit hard against skin and penetrated deep into the bone, even through layers of clothing. A freezing mist hung over the land and the stillness, except for the lonely cry of a raven, was absolute.
Belythna Arran watched her breath billow like steam as she exhaled. Then, she cast one last glance back at Deep-Spire, shadowed in mist. Two delicate, notched spires outlined against the grey sky, appeared like twin mountain peaks, one dwarfing the other, framed by the skeleton limbs of black trees.
My home. My prison.
She turned away from the fortress and focused her attention on those surrounding her – one hundred and fifty men and women dressed in black: black tunics, leggings, calf-length leather boots, and thick hooded cloaks. The only splashes of colour were the gold circlets about their necks. Around their waists, some of her companions carried swords. Belythna was not one of them – her skills lay elsewhere.
At the back of the group trailed a band of around twenty figures cloaked in grey. These were the apprentices; the youngest was barely thirteen years old. The apprentices should have been spared. It pained Belythna to see the terror on their faces; the same fear she felt but hid from sight. It would have been better to have sent them away, to have kept them safe – but Lady Serina would not have it.
Belythna’s gaze travelled to where their leader stood at the front of the group. Lady Serina stood ramrod straight, her gaze scanning the mist before them, her strong face impassive. She was waiting – they all were.
Where were they?
They would come. Belythna had no doubt of that. They would have seen the Sentorân empty out of Deep-Spire, ready to do battle. Riadamor was just biding her time.
Belythna inhaled deeply and tried to calm her roiling stomach. This felt wrong, all of it; her palms were slippery and she felt nauseous.
Still, the enemy did not emerge from the mist. The Sentorân waited with the silence of a mid-winter’s morning echoing around them. Winter was cold here, in the depths of Central Omagen, far from the mild coast. The land had gone into hibernation. Belythna’s fingers were turning numb and her feet ached from the chill. She stamped them in an effort to restore the circulation. If Riadamor did not make an appearance soon they would all be too stiff to move.
Belythna glanced once more at Lady Serina, searching for any sign that their leader was losing her nerve. The woman’s face had gone hard. She had grown so still that Belythna could barely notice the rise and fall of her chest. She was summoning her powers, and Belythna looked away, knowing she should do the same.
She closed her eyes and struggled to slow down her breathing. It was an effort to clear her mind and summon her flame – a slender column of silver – that would calm her thoughts and channel her talent. Her thoughts tangled themselves in knots and she struggled to unravel them.
It took brute-force, but, eventually, Belythna managed to reach the place where nothing in the world existing but the flickering flame before her. For what was to come she would need to reach deep. Using her abilities in this way would hurt; it would rub her soul raw.
The flame guttered, threatening to go out as Belythna’s fear resurfaced.
This is wrong – it can only end badly.
Beside her, she heard a hiss from Serina – a warning. When Belythna tore her attention back to the swirling mist before them, she realised why.
The Esquill approached; shadowy figures gliding towards the waiting Sentorân.
Belythna watched them draw near. They were many; at least three times the Sentorân’s number. How had Riadamor managed to find and train so many sorcerers so quickly? No wonder they had begun to make their presence felt all over the five realms. In just a few years, Riadamor had worked the impossible. She was more powerful than any of them. They had all underestimated her from the beginning.
Now it had come to this – two armies of sorcerers facing each other across a misty field on a mid-winter’s morning.
One of the figures stepped forward from the ranks. She was dressed in grey; a tall, slim woman with a plain face and lank blonde hair.
Belythna’s gaze fixed upon the woman’s face. She had not seen Riadamor in seven years, and life in the interim had not been kind to her. Gathering and training her followers had drained her. She looked older than her thirty years; her face was haggard and pale. Yet her eyes, dark pools, were luminous and ageless. This was not the Riadamor she had known at Deep-Spire. Before her stood a stranger, a terrifying one.
Were we ever friends?
Seeing Riadamor’s face once more brought it all back – all the memories of the last seventeen years. They had arrived at Deep-Spire within three days of each other. They had both been thirteen winters old and eager to learn. Both girls had been desperate to cast off their old identities and assume new ones. However, Riadamor had gone further than Belythna – further than any of them.
Belythna remembered the day she had witnessed another side to her friend. It was a day as searing hot, as this one was bone-numbingly cold.
Looking back, the events of that day had been a clear sign of what was to come.

But, who was to know? Her gaze never left Riadamor’s face. We are only wise in hindsight – even if it means the ruin of us all.

Sunday 25 May 2014

How writing fan fiction improved my writing!

I started writing THE WITCH OF ANGMAR (Shortlisted for this year's Julius Vogel Awards - fan fiction category!) mainly for fun. It was a way to get in touch with other Tolkien fans and make my own trip back to Middle Earth!

However, as I was writing the story - which took me about a year of fortnightly installments to complete - I noticed something interesting. I was finding it much easier to write about Middle Earth, Rose Fairbairn, Peri Took and Salrean of Farnost than I was about my own fantasy world and characters?

Why?

Because, unlike my own fantasy world (gulp!), I knew Middle Earth pretty damn well. I had read LOTR and the Hobbit enough times to be able to close my eyes and imagine myself there. Thanks to Tolkien, I had a detailed history and rich cultural backdrop to draw upon. With a setting like this, it was easy to write a story that flowed, that felt 'real'.

Lesson learnt, I went back and took a long hard look at my world and characters the epic fantasy series I am working on. 

I realised that although I don't have the time, or inclination, to go to Tolkien's lengths; there were a number of aspects that needed 'fleshing out'. If I didn't know my world's history, culture and topography in detail, how could I expect a reader to believe in it?

To this end, I have written a 'prequel' to the Palâdnith Chronicles (Books One and Two are already published - JOURNEY OF SHADOWS and THE CITADEL OF LIES - and I am currently working on the third book in the series - THE WELL OF SECRETS).

DEEP-SPIRE, is a novella (although a reasonable sized one - at around 35,000 words). It 'sets the scene' for the adventure to come, while drawing the reader into the story of Belythna Arran, a young sorceress, and the mother of our heroes in the Palâdnith Chronicles.

Watch this space for DEEP-SPIRE, as it will be available on Amazon soon.

Writing a prequel was a lot of extra work, but it has worked its magic. Now, as I write the third book in the series, THE WELL OF SECRETS, I can believe that this world, Palâdnith, and everyone in it, truly exist!


Tuesday 29 April 2014

COMING SOON - DEEP-SPIRE - the prequel novella to the Palâdnith Chronicles

Every series needs a prequel, and the Palâdnith Chronicles is no exception! DEEP-SPIRE takes place around forty years before the first novel in this epic fantasy series, JOURNEY OF SHADOWS.

Read on to find out more... 

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Only the dead have seen the end of war.” ― Plato

Belythna Arran is a sorceress.

Belythna is one of the Sentorân, an order charged with the protection of Palâdnith – a land that has seen too much blood-shed in its history. She pledged, at the age of thirteen, to dedicate her life to the Sentorân – but as the years pass she begins to realise that the walls of Deep-Spire, the order’s stronghold, have become a prison.

Once, powerful and respected, the order has fallen into stagnation.

The rulers of Paladnith no longer seek their council, and the people view the sorcerers with distrust.

However, the greatest threat to the Sentorân, and everything they stand for, comes from within.

Riadamor, an ambitious young sorceress, rebels against the order. Her act is a catalyst for a series of events that bring the Sentorân to the edge of doom.

Belythna, who entered the order at the same time as Riadamor, struggles to come to terms with a changing world, and her place in it. As Deep-Spire edges towards war, she must decide who she really is, and where her loyalties lie.  

DEEP-SPIRE sets the scene for the first novel in the Palâdnith Chronicles, JOURNEY OF SHADOWS (Shortlisted for the Sir Julius Vogel Awards, 2014). DEEP-SPIRE is a tale of duty, choice and self-discovery.

DEEP-SPIRE will be available soon on Amazon Kindle. Watch this space!

Saturday 19 April 2014

It's done - THE WITCH OF ANGMAR is now finished!

It has been around a year in the writing - but my Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction series, THE WITCH OF ANGMAR, has now come to an end.

Like many Tolkien fans, I have read The Lord of the Rings numerous times – and each time, without fail, I turn that last page with a tinge of sadness. I never want to leave Middle Earth. As a writer of epic fantasy, I have created my own worlds – and I enjoy weaving stories within them – but my first love will always be Middle Earth. There is a grandeur to Tolkien’s world that few have been able to match, a detailed history that makes us believe that it actually existed. I like to think it did.

 This is my first attempt at fan fiction, and one I embarked upon so that I could go back to Middle Earth and take a long holiday there. I had great fun writing The Witch of Angmar, and have tried to be as true to Tolkien’s world as possible – while throwing in a few elements of my own.
Here’s what it’s about:
Over two hundred and twenty years since the destruction of Sauron, and the beginning of the ‘long reign of peace’, evil stirs in Middle Earth once more.
Our tale begins in the Shire and with the celebrations of the one-hundred year anniversary of the passing of the last members of the Fellowship into the West. Rose Fairbairn and Pericles Took – descendants of Samwise Gamgee and Pippin Took – learn that their bloodline could mean their deaths. The sister of the Witch-King of Angmar has awoken from a three thousand year sleep from her cold tomb deep in the Mountains of Angmar. Aided by the goblins of Moria, Morwyn of Angmar rebuilds the fortress of Carn Dûm, and plans her revenge on those who slew her brother.

Follow Rose and Peri’s adventures as they travel north with a female ranger, Salrean, into the lost Realm of Arnor. During their journey they will discover the truth about the new threat to the people of Middle Earth – before they must travel north to face the Witch of Angmar herself.
If you know anyone who loves The Lord of the Rings, and might enjoy this tale, please feel free to share. It's my gift to all the Tolkien fans out there!

LOTR Fan Fiction: The Witch of Angmar - Part #22


The Witch of Angmar

Legacy of the Fellowship

Part Twenty-two

Escape


R
ose lay on her side, her body wracked with pain. Her gaze was fixed upon Morwyn’s slumped body. The witch’s blood pooled on the flagstones where she lay. A few feet back stood a slight figure dressed in tattered leathers.
Azil had slain the Witch of Angmar.
In the end, it had not been a woman, or a hobbit, that had brought about the downfall of the Witch-king’s evil sister – but a goblin.
“Betrayer!” Targkok snarled.
The Goblin King unsheathed his heavy iron sword, strode forward – and skewered Azil on his blade.
Azil sank against the wall, the iron blade that pierced his torso, scraping against the rough stone behind him.
Their gazes met. The Goblin King then leaned closer, his lips curling into a sneer.
“I would never have taken you back,” he spat, twisting the blade deeper to emphasise his words. “This death is too short, too clean for the like of you,” Targkok continued, his eyes gleaming with cruelty.
Azil did not reply, he merely stared up at his king, his thin face contorted.
Helplessly looking on, Rose saw the defiance in Azil’s eyes. A sob welled up within her. Yet, she had not the strength to reach for Sting. Morwyn had hurt her, badly, and she could even not summon the strength to stand.
“Azil!” she cried.
The goblin’s eyes, glazing over now, flicked towards her before returning to the Goblin King. Targkok’s snarling face was just inches from his.
“I don’t regret it,” Azil finally wheezed. “Mine, was not much of an existence anyway.”
“Worm,” Targkok growled back. “I shall cut your snivelling tongue out.”
The Goblin King reached down to the knife he wore strapped to his thigh. However, he was interrupted from making good on his threat by the crash of something heavy colliding with the doors to the chamber.
Those inside the Witch Tower’s chamber turned their head towards the sound.
The doors flew open and slammed back against the wall – and the bodies of the two orc guards collapsed in the doorway. Behind them stood the outlines of four men. They wore dark green cloaks, fastened at the throat with six-pointed star clasps.
Rose stared at them, hearing Peri’s indrawn gasp of shock behind her.
Rangers.
The man at the front of the group pushed back his hood.
Ethorn of Farnost scanned the scene before him. When he saw Salrean’s crumpled form at the end of the chamber, his dark gaze narrowed and his mouth thinned.
In his right hand, Ethorn wielded a magnificent sword with a long blade. His gaze fastened upon the Goblin King, who had released Azil, and turned to meet the newcomers. Then, Ethorn raised his sword high before him, grasping its hilt with two hands in a silent salute.
“This ends now,” his voice rang out across the chamber.
The four rangers, their travel-stained cloaks billowing behind them, leapt forward. The goblins, who had been holding Peri fast, released him and drew their weapons. They met the Rangers, their screeches and howls deafening in the confined space.
Targkok roared and hurtled across the chamber towards Ethorn. Their blades met with a harsh clang that echoed high into the vaulted roof.
Finally free, Peri scurried across the floor to where Rose lay. He tried to help her to her feet but she shook her head, her face streaked with tears.
“I can’t,” she gasped. “Peri, take Sting and use it!”
Peri, his face pale and strained, nodded wordlessly. Then, he reached for the elf-blade that lay in the scabbard at Rose’s side. He withdrew Sting – its blade glowing bright blue – and turned to join the fight. Rose saw the fierce determination on his face, and felt a rush of pride, of affection, for him. He was brave – and she had always known it.
A moment later, Peri engaged a goblin guard who rushed at him with a swinging mace. He stuck his attacker in the throat with the blade before swivelling to meet another goblin who had come to its companion’s aid – too late.
Rose curled up on her side, watching the fight through half-closed lids. Pain gripped her chest with every breath. What had Morwyn done to her? Her insides burned.
She was vaguely aware of more goblins flooding into the chamber. Yet, the rangers cut them down, one by one, with deadly efficiency. She saw Ethorn wound Targkok; saw the mighty Goblin King crumple, only to be dragged, still bellowing, from the chamber by his servants.
The battle raged inside the Witch Tower – a violent storm that left devastation in its wake. Dead goblins littered the ground. Groans filled the chamber from those few who lay dying. Rose saw Ethorn cut down his last adversary before striding across to where Salrean rested, unmoving and oblivious to all that had transpired just a few feet away.
“Salrean,” Ethorn’s voice broke as he hunkered down next to her and reached out to touch her cheek. “Please, wake up…”
Rose’s eyes filled with tears. She looked away, unable to watch Ethorn’s grief. Her gaze fixed upon Azil, who sat propped up against the blood-stained wall. He was clutching his wounded stomach. She could see the agony etched in deep-lines on his face. Yet the goblin remained silent; his jaw clenched, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Azil,” Rose pulled herself across the flagstones towards him. “Can you hear me?”
The goblin’s eyes opened, their topaz intensity focusing on the female hobbit who had pulled herself to his side.
“Rose,” his voice was weak, failing. “You must leave, now while you have the chance. More will come. You don’t have much time.”
Rose shook her head, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Azil grimaced. “Foolish hobbit,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I’ll be dead soon – and so will you if you don’t run now.”
“He’s right,” Ethorn’s voice, tinged with relief, echoed across the chamber. “Salrean’s alive. I’ll carry her. Veldur – carry Rose. I don’t think she can walk.”
“We have to bring Azil!” Rose protested, hysteria looming.
“I’m staying,” Azil gasped, blood bubbling on his thin lips. “I took a blade to my belly, Rose. No one survives that. Go with the rangers.”
“No,” tears blinded Rose but she was too weak to resist as the tall ranger, Veldur, who scooped her into his arms as if she was a child. “We can’t leave you behind.”
Ethorn had picked Salrean up; she hung limply in his arms, her face deathly pale.
“Gonthorn – you lead the way,” Ethorn turned to his rangers. “Nathil – you take rear guard. Peri, take the Red Book and keep it safe. Stay at my side. Let’s go.”
Peri did as he was bid, picking up the Red Book, from where it sat splayed open and splattered with blood. He closed it and slipped it into Rose’s satchel, which he then slung across his front.
Ethorn walked across the chamber, halting next to where Veldur stood with Rose in his arms. For a moment, he paused, looking down at Azil.
“He killed Morwyn,” Rose sobbed. “We can’t leave Azil behind.”
The ranger’s face grew grim at this news. “We cannot take him with us, Rose,” he said softly. “He’s dying.”
“Goodbye, she-hobbit,” Azil gasped. Blood dribbled down his chin as he attempted to smile but managed only a grimace. “I wish I could have served you better.”
Grief seized Rose then. She tried to wriggle out of Veldur’s iron grip, but she was too weak and hurt to manage it.  Ethorn nodded to Azil, in silent thanks. Then, he moved off, following Gonthorn from the chamber, and Veldur followed.
The last glimpse that Rose had of Azil the goblin was of a wiry, stoop-shouldered figure, leaning up against the wall, surrounded by the dead. He raised a thin hand in farewell.
Moments later, he was lost from sight.

The group fled down the stairwell, making no attempt at stealth. Azil had spoken true; they had but a short window before the Witch Tower would be teeming with goblins and hill-men. They could hear their shouts, the thundering of approaching feet. The four rangers and one hobbit raced down the network of ruined corridors towards the secret way out.
“How did you find us?” Peri gasped at Ethorn’s side.
“We tracked Azil and Rose through the Black Woods,” Ethorn replied, barely out of breath, despite that he carried Salrean. “After that, we followed them into the network of tunnels under Carn Dûm. I’d prefer not to retrace our steps, but it’s the only way out of this place.”
Peri never had a chance to ask the ranger why he was reluctant to take the secret way out – for a company of goblins collided with them. They were racing down a set of steps towards the last stretch of corridor before they would descend underground, and met the goblins on the landing below.
The rangers cut their way through the fray. Peri fought at their side, Sting glowing bright in the dimness. The elf-blade terrified many of the goblins who faced it. Some even shrieked in terror and cowered. With the last of the goblins dealt with, the party raced the last distance to the narrow stairwell that led deep beneath Carn Dûm.
Huddled in Veldur’s arms, Rose drifted in and out of consciousness. Every jolt of his stride caused her chest to spasm in agony. Her limbs were dead weights; they felt as if they did not belong to her.  
As they descended the narrow, mossy steps into the dark depths, alarm made her stir from the oblivion that beckoned to her.
“Ethorn,” she croaked. “The gallery under Carn Dûm. It’s not safe. There’s a…”
“We know,” Ethorn replied quickly. “We met the wight on the way up. If there was another way out of here I would take it.”
“Wight?” Peri did not bother to hide his alarm. Those creatures, often mentioned in stories told by the fireside on long winter nights in the Shire, struck fear into the hearts of most hobbits. “There’s one here?”
“There certainly is,” Veldur spoke for the first time, his voice a deep rumble in the cramped stairwell. “Not a creature I ever hoped to meet again.”
“It hates Sting,” Rose replied, her voice trembling with the effort it took to speak. “Use the sword against it!”
A short while later, the company entered the dark gallery. Gonthorn lit a torch and carried it aloft as they padded between the towering columns, each trying to make their tread as light as possible.
It made no difference. Half-way down the gallery, the ghoul sensed their presence. The same strange wind that Rose had felt when entering this gallery earlier, gusted towards them, ruffling their hair and causing their cloaks to billow behind them. The chill of the breeze on Rose’s cheeks roused her slightly. She tightened her grip around Veldur’s neck, fear twisting her belly.
Only Peri did not know what was coming.
The wight, its tattered clothing fluttering around long, emaciated limbs, loomed before them, appearing like a wraith from behind one of the columns. It rushed at them, a scream issuing from its gaping maw.
“Intruders – I will have you all!”
Peri staggered back, Sting trembling before him.
The Wight was injured. Rose could see the dark gash on its left forearm, where she had sliced it deeply with Sting’s blade. It also limped painfully; a result, no doubt, of its encounter with the rangers.
Ethorn and Veldur hung back, unable to draw their weapons, while Gonthorn, Nathil and Peri moved forward to meet the wight.
“Peri,” Ethorn commanded, “step forward and show it Sting.”
The hobbit’s face was pale and strained in the flickering torchlight, but he did as he was told.
“Get back!” he yelled. The force in his voice surprised Rose – you would have never known he was terrified. “Foul ghoul – remember this? Do you want to feel its bite once more?”
The wight drew back; its ravaged face tilting to one side, its gaze narrowing. “The elf-blade,” it hissed.
“This is ‘Sting’,” Peri replied, advancing. The wight loped backwards, cringing before the blade that had wounded it earlier.
“Keep that foul blade from me!” it shrieked.
“Let us pass,” Peri commanded.  He continued to take steps towards the wight, as behind him, Ethorn and Veldur moved past. Gonthorn and Nathil flanked Peri, their weapons raised.
“No!” the wight wailed. There was something wrenching in that sound; the cry of a creature that had been doomed to spend its days in the lonely darkness. The despair in its wail chilled all that heard it.
Peri inched back down the gallery. He had his back to where Ethorn and Veldur were moving swiftly towards the archway that marked the end of the wight’s domain; yet he dared not run. 
Even the terror of the elf-blade could not contain the wight’s desperation. Unable to bear the thought of them escaping, once more, the ghoul lunged at the hobbit.
 Peri swung Sting, clenching his jaw as the blade bit flesh.
A blood-curdling scream echoed down the gallery. The wight staggered backwards, grasping the bleeding stump of its right wrist. Its clawed hand lay twitching at its feet.
Taking his chance, for he knew that another would not present itself, Peri turned and sprinted away. The two rangers at his side quickly outdistanced him, covering the ground easily in long strides. Peri ran faster than he ever had, his short legs flying. He dove under the arch, the wight’s terrible cries still echoing in his ears.
It was a long while, before they could no longer hear the wailing.
The party travelled deep into the earth, and eventually arrived at the underground lake. Still on edge after their encounter with the wight, Peri found the cavern unnerving. There was a watchful presence here; one that none of them wanted to disturb. The party skirted the edge, keeping clear of the gently rippling water.
There were a number of entrances to tunnels along the lake’s edge, but they took the one that Rose had marked with her scarf.
Peri was the last to enter the tunnel. Before doing so, he stooped and retrieved the scarf. He knew that, once she had recovered, Rose would be happy to have it back.


***

Night settled over the Black Woods, bringing a chill, overcast day to a close.
In the heart of the bleak forest, far from the prying eyes of hill-men and goblins, and far from the obsidian towers of Carn Dûm, the party of rangers and hobbits made camp for the night.
The party camped in a hollow, and lit a small fire. Their evening meal was frugal, for the rangers had not had time to hunt; their entire focus had been to put as much distance between them and Carn Dûm as possible.
Ethorn laid Salrean down on his cloak, next to where Rose slept deeply. The hobbit had lost consciousness soon after they had run from the wight. She had not woken since; her breathing was shallow, her skin a sickly shade. However, Ethorn had promised Peri that she would live.
The four rangers and hobbit were sharing a meal of dried beef and mushrooms when Salrean awoke.
Her soft groan alerted them. Ethorn moved over to her; kneeling next to Salrean as her eyes flickered open. Her gaze, unfocused at first, eventually fixed upon him.
“Ethorn,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you,” he gave a wry smile before reaching out and stroking her cheek. “Do you think I would have let you leave Farnost if I hadn’t planned to follow you?”
Salrean’s eyes glittered as she stared up at him, then her expression clouded. “Morwyn…”
“She’s dead,” Peri shuffled up next to Ethorn. “Azil killed her.”
“Unfortunately, the Goblin King escaped, but I injured him badly,” Ethorn added. “He won’t be causing trouble for a while.”
Salrean’s eyes widened at this news. “The Witch of Angmar is dead,” she whispered, as if saying the words out loud made them truth. “Then the quest did not fail.”
“No,” Ethorn replied, his smile fading. “Although things did not turn out the way you’d hoped.”
“Where’s Rose?” Salrean asked suddenly, her gaze flicking over the faces of the four men and one male hobbit who stared down at her.
“Next to you,” Peri replied. “Morwyn injured her too.”
Salrean rolled over onto her back with a soft groan.
“I feel as if I’ve been beaten,” she gasped.
Salrean looked over at where the small, female hobbit lay next to her, sleeping soundly.
“She looks so young,” Salrean observed softly. “Yet, I’ve never met anyone braver.”
“Azil escorted her to the secret way in,” Peri explained, “but he betrayed her once they were inside. Morwyn was sure that the Red Book held a secret. She was about to kill Rose for not giving it to her when Azil stepped in and killed the witch.”
Salrean shook her head, incredulous. Her gaze then returned to Rose.
“I misjudged Azil,” she whispered. “Sometimes, there is goodness in those we believe to be incapable of it. Where is he now?”
Silence followed her words, but the expression on Peri’s face told her all.
“Targkok stabbed him. He was alive when we left the Witch Tower. He won’t be now…”
Peri’s voice trailed away, only to be replaced by silence. The gazes of all present rested Rose’s sleeping face.
It was done. They had slain the Witch of Angmar and retrieved the Red Book. The death of Rose’s father had been avenged. Morwyn would never march her armies south and bring a reign of terror to the free peoples of Middle Earth. Yet, victory had left a bitter taste in their mouths.
All of them had expected to feel happier than they did.

Rose’s eyes flickered open, her gaze shifting over the faces of her companions.
Crouched at her side, Peri could see Rose’s exhaustion, pain and sadness. He longed to reached out and hug her. However, he was not sure of the extent of her injuries and did not want to damage her.
“Is it over?” she asked, her voice trembling with fatigue. “Have we escaped?”
“Yes,” Peri reached out and took her hand in his. “Carn Dûm is behind us. Gentler lands lie ahead.”
“Good,” Rose gently squeezed his hand and managed a tremulous smile. “I’ve had enough of adventures for now. I think I’m quite happy to spend the rest of my life back in the Shire, doing everyday things.”
Peri gave a soft laugh at that.
He could not agree more. The gentle green hills of Hobbiton, with its neatly tended fields and good-natured hobbit faces would be very welcome indeed. He would carry the Red Book back to the Shire, and one day Rose might write their story in its pages. For now their adventure was at an end, and not a moment too soon.
“Good idea, Rose,” he replied. “Let’s go home.”



The End.

________________________________________


Sadly, this installment marks the end of the my tribute to Tolkien: THE WITCH OF ANGMAR.  I embarked upon this adventure around a year ago - and over 40,000 words later - this Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction tale, has concluded. Those of you who have been following since the first installment - thank you for your support! :-)

If you joined us here, and would like to read the rest, please visit my website to read the adventure from the beginning!  http://samjcharlton.com/LOTR_Fan_Fiction.html