The Seeds of Destruction: From the Chronicles of Algaroth

by Grimshaw, Johan

• ISBN13: 9781456771850
• ISBN10: 145677185X
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2011-08-31
• Publisher: Author Solutions
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Summary

a good King leaves his Kingdom in mysterious circumstances. His Chief Counsellor, Gwythnae, is left to cope both with his own grief and also to set in motion the process of succession. The whereabouts of the one true heir, a new-born babe, is known only to him, and so it must remain. His task is a difficult and lonely one; to hide the truth from his fellow counsellors, to find a means of appointing one who can rule until the child is old enough to take his place as King, and to keep the darkness, which is moving over the face of the land, at bay. The words of the dread 'Prophesy of the Stone' echo in his soul, and he must keep its secrets hidden from all around him.But who is the mysterious Lady Ellarhond? How can she recite the dread prophesy? Is truth to be found in her mother's story of Ellarhond's infamous father? Placing the Queen's Torque about her neck can bring only death and destruction to the land.Gwythnae must stand alone as his years of labour and sacrifice, his whole world, crumbles about him. The King and all those associated with him are discredited. Dishonoured and disgraced, he must leave the Kingdom to its fate in the hands of the spiritually weak, but the beautiful and powerful Vrangharad, Mother of the Dewinne.Yet the last verse of the prophesy must be realised. The Seeds of Destruction had been sown and must be harvested. Only then can Truth be triumphant and health and prosperity returned to the Kingdom.

Excerpts

Githrin looked about him, then back at his mother. She stood on the raised platform, and quite near to the King. She smiled at him. She had never taken her eyes off him since he had appeared with the other boys in the courtyard, the blue streaks of woad daubed onto their breast and legs, and their hair limed and braided. He was easily a head taller than most of the others, some of whom were many moons older, and she was so proud of him. He looked away again, and across to the King, but the King did not even afford Githrin a glance, gave instead all his attention to Ulleand, standing to Githrin's right. But it was always this way. Ulleand and the King were as close as brothers, but then, Ulleand had been brought here as a small child of some five summers, whereas Githrin had come later, and did not spend all his time at the Castle, but was taken by his mother to her land in the West. Ulleand rarely went back to his father's house. Ulleand's father had been a sword-bearer, and had walked at the last King's back, why then should their sons not be equally close? Endork stood watching his son gravely, almost impassively, and any anticipation of the pride he may feel to have Ulleand take his place by the King was well hidden. So many of the twenty or so boys had their fathers to watch them, even those low-born, and in this, Githrin did, at least, have something in common with the King, although Githrin's father was barely even a distant memory to him. He looked now to the boy at his left. Here was a new face, and much younger, by appearences, than many of the rest gathered there. He smiled back, nervously. Githrin spoke