Saturday, May 27, 2017

Toric's Dagger (The Weapon Takers Saga, Book 1) by Jamie Edmundson

Release date: May 27, 2017
Subgenre: Epic fantasy

About Toric's Dagger


Toric's Dagger is just another religious relic, until it's stolen. Belwynn and her twin brother, Soren, volunteer to lead a team tasked with its retrieval. Drawn into a world of danger and treachery, they must rely on Soren's magical abilities, and on the telepathic bond they share.

Now, as kingdoms and empires start to fall, the twins confront the dark forces that threaten them. They must not let the Dagger fall into the wrong hands. But when mercenaries, zealots and sorcerers are all hunting for the same weapon, who should they trust?

Book One of The Weapon Takers Saga, an Epic Fantasy Series in the tradition of Tolkien, Tad Williams & GRR Martin.



Horseshoes. Hammer and nails. Pokers. Plough blades. Locks and keys. Cartwheels. Files and chisels. All very good. All very well and good, and Ulf could do a wonderful job of making all of those. But armour? Spears and war-axes? No. Swords? Really fine swords, works of art that could be passed down the generations? No-one was ordering those anymore, and Rabigar had had enough.
Peace had come to Magnia at last. It was an idea that was disputed, of course. He still heard dire warnings about the North Magnians. Prince Cerdda and his brother were plotting this or that attack. People needed an enemy to talk about, to scare each other about. But blade-smiths were always the first to know when peace had come. People stopped buying weapons.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Ulf was working hard as usual, powerful shoulders hammering away at the anvil.
‘How’s it going?’ Rabigar shouted.
Ulf stopped. ‘What?’
‘Do you need a hand? Quite a few orders in, I see.’
‘Nah, nothing that would interest you, master. You have a rest.’
‘Oh. Right then.’
Bang. Bang. Bang.
He was a good boy, Ulf. Or young man now. Hard worker. Respectful. Grateful. But by the gods, did he piss Rabigar off when he treated him like a hoary relic. He headed for the exit from the forge.
‘Master Rabigar?’
Bareva, Ulf’s wife. She came waddling into the forge, her pregnant belly now much more of a hindrance than it had been a few weeks ago. She was a big woman, not that much smaller than Ulf, and it had taken a while for the baby in her belly to show.
‘There you are. Customer asking for you.’
‘Right you are. Thank you, Bareva. You can tell ‘em to come in.’
Asking for me, thought Rabigar. Dare I hope?
A tall, powerfully-built man strode into the forge as if he owned the place.
‘Herin? Good to see you.’
‘Rabigar,’ said Herin, clasping hands and shouting over the noise of Ulf’s hammering. ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Boy, she’s looking big now, isn’t she?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of Bareva, who had left the forge.
‘Aye. Parents like that, baby’s gonna be a monster, isn’t it? Well, I’m hoping you’ve got a job for me.’
‘Business slow?’
‘Nah. Business isn’t slow. Our lad,’ he said, indicating Ulf over at the anvil, ‘is very busy. Just nothing in the way of blade-work.’
‘Good. Well, I had a very special favour to ask, and sounds like you might be willing to help me out.’
‘Go on.’
‘You won’t have heard what’s gone on at Toric’s Temple?’
‘Attacked this morning by twenty-odd soldiers, from the Empire. Broke in and took Toric’s Dagger. Worst part about it, I guess, is that Edgar was there when it happened. He’s alright, though.’
Rabigar whistled at the news. ‘Wait a minute. You’re not asking me to make a new Dagger, are you? I mean, I know I’m good, but...’



About Jamie Edmundson:

Jamie grew up in the English counties of Bedfordshire and Buckinghamshire, where as a teenager he developed his interests in History and the world of Fantasy Fiction. He studied History at the University of Hull in East Yorkshire before moving to Yarm in North Yorkshire. Here he became a teacher, got married and became a father. At various points along the way he dabbled with a fantasy story that became Toric’s Dagger. He is now busily working away on the next book in the series, Bolivar's Sword.

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