Title: The Continuing Journeys of a Different Necromancer
Author: James J. Crofoot
Genre: Fantasy
Book description:
Thomas now views his magic as less than
good, but he must raise one more army. This one not of his creation though. For
the first time he learns fear of the undead. More than ever, he longs to see
the waters of the great sea to the west. Will he find peace there? Will Christina
and he find a home with the people of the shores? Maybe. But, maybe he'll have
to fight magic darker than his own to keep his new home.
Maybe he'll have to fight magic so dark
that even a half demon witch fears it and must help.
Author Bio
James J has travelled on sea and land,
managing to get two degrees and has attended Gotham Writing Workshop. Through
it all writing remained his first love. Now he is publishing his work for your
enjoyment. 'The Continuing Journeys of a Different Necromancer' is the sequel
to 'The Journeys of a Different Necromancer', both available at MuseItUp
publishing, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashswords. He has also appeared in
Silverblade Magazine. For notice of further publications, you can find him at
www.crofootwrites.com
Purchasing Link:
Excerpt:
“I am Conrad Tuloe.” The man dismounted and bowed. “I am the
ambassador from the kingdom of Salot. It is a fair day for traveling, where do
you head?”
“Yes,” Thomas answered. “It is at that. We were thinking of taking
it easy walking. We head to the sea.”
Thomas turned back to the man and thought the face of this man
seemed honest, with its broad nose and high cheekbones.
“Me lord,” the necromancer said. “I’m very sure you did not ride
that horse windless to come and exchange ‘Good Days’ with me.”
“Very well.” The ambassador nodded. “Let
us walk for a bit. I have a matter to discuss.”
They
started walking again, the reins of the animal in the man’s hand.
“You
know of the peaceful nation I come from?” “Yes, me lord, I’ve heard of it,”
Thomas replied. “Please, call me Conrad. We are far from court.”
“Very
well, Conrad.”
“You know my country is a beautiful place,” Conrad said. “We are
very peaceful and proud of the fact that we do not even have an army.” The man
looked at Thomas intently. “We have not fought a war in many generations.”
“Yes,”
Thomas said. “You’re a country of artists and poets.”
“You
are right for the most part. Your name is Thomas, right? May I call you
Thomas?”
Thomas
nodded.
“Well then, Thomas,” Conrad went on. “You know of the Serpent
Kings in the south? You know they are a very cruel people? They enslave other
nations, other peoples. They sacrifice these people to their snake gods.”
“Yes I’ve read of these things, too, Conrad,” Thomas answered,
growing sullen at a question he knew was coming.
“I have spent the last fortnight in the company of your king,
Thomas.” Conrad paused. “The Serpent Kings are marching north. They mean to
enslave my people.”
“Why
are you telling me this?”
“The
king will not aid us, and we need help.”
“How can I help you?” Thomas shook his head. “I have no kingdom to
send troops from. Surely, there are other rulers you can ask.”
“No, there are none,” Brandon stated. “No other rulers wish to
involve themselves against the Serpent Kings.”
“Well,
I’m sorry.”
Conrad took Thomas’s arm to turn him. “I know what you are,
necromancer! I know the powers you command.”
“What do you want me to do? I’ll raise no army for you. The last
king I did that for turned out to be selfish and greedy. He cared nothing for
people, only power. I lost a great deal in that kingdom, I lost my innocence.”
Thomas pulled his arm free of the ambassador’s grip. “So you defeat the Serpent
Kings, what next? Your king will have an army of risen at his command. Perhaps
he will decide to take other lands, other people. What I create are
abominations, I will do that no more. You don’t know what you ask!”
The ambassador looked away. “We will fight ourselves then. I will
put swords in the hands of teachers. I will put spears in the hands of
painters. We will arm the singers and dancers and we will die! The great
libraries where nations send the young to learn will be no more.” He paused and
looked back at Thomas. “Come and see what we will die for, come with me to
Salat.”
In silence, Christina had walked beside him for the length of the
conversation, but now spoke up. “Let’s go, Thomas. Let’s at least see this
place before it falls into the hands of the south.”
Thomas looked at her sideways. Her
insistence in not understanding what he did with his knowledge beginning to
irritate him. She would try to talk him into doing what he now considered an
evil. He would go, but he would create no army.
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