A murder…an assassination…a target…
A murder …an assassination …a target…
In a deep, dark, gloomy castle set like an open sore against the irony backdrop of the stormy sky, a sole candle flickered feebly in a closed space. The ominous tinkle of a bell sounded eerily loudly over the howling of the wind. A pale hand stroked the carved wooden arm of a chair.
"Are all our preparations in place?" The voice was cold, cruel, sinuously pitched.
"They are. Our agents have surrounded him even now, waiting for our signal."
"And his heir?"
The second man snorted. "Setsuki has done a better job of guarding the future than the present. I'll be heading the squad that goes over there to…get him out of the way."
A blue-ish, sickly hand reached out and caressed the skull-decorated hilt of a huge sword.
"And Setsuki's bases? Have they been infiltrated?" the first man demanded. The second laughed.
"Setsuki is but a group of children, you know that! What problem could they possibly pose to hardened assassins such as we?"
A queen …a throne …a city …
A king …a throne …a country …
Villages and citys, towns and countries, kings and borders. The whole map lay before her, covered with pawns and pieces. Her own sat in the middle of a patch of blue.
"They're on the move."
A voice to her right spoke. She nodded.
"Aye. But who is their target this time?"
"Does it matter? Setsuki should be able to defend him."
"A throne is at stake," she breathed. "More than a country is in danger, here. Is the heir capable of leading a nation?"
"The heir is still under constant guard," her advisor replied. "We do not know if Setsuki has exposed the truth yet."
A house …a clan …a nation…
A house …a clan …a nation…
He was hidden in a crevice, protected from the buffeting storm by the solid rock about him. His raven-black hair was full of sand, but did that matter?
He had slain his mentor and was now heading to take revenge. But first, he needed the key. That key – it could only possibly be on one person. And that person was his first target. He had nothing to go on, only a few fading memories from his childhood. But for a prodigy like him, that was enough. He would find his quarry.
He flicked a few grains of sand off the fan-like crest emblazoned on the hilt of his sword. Family ties were only burdens, he'd shrugged them off long ago.
Or so he thought, as he sat gazing out into the blinding sand storm.
To regain a lost throne, family ties and old legends will take on the utmost importance. Loves and lives will be lost, truth regained, and another heritage uncovered. The epic tale of he who struggled to become King of Sand!!!!
This is only a teaser. If you want to read the first (long) chapter, R&R! Two interested readers is all it takes...