About Hag of the Hills:
All his life, Brennus has been destined for warriorhood. However, a farmer’s life doesn’t provide many opportunities for swordplay and glory, despite the Goddess of Winter’s gift of the Sight—the ability to see the sidhe of the Otherworld. But when the Hillmen kill his family and annihilate his clan, he knows the truth—no one can avenge his homeland but himself.
As he prepares to set out against the Hillmen and their Queen, the clan’s chief druid entrusts his daughter, Myrnna, to his protection, to which Brennus swears a solemn oath. As they fight toward the sanctuary of Dun Torrin, he must survive the endless hordes of Hillman and the monstrous sidhe while shielding Myrnna from harm, aided only by the Sight, a band of shifty mercenaries, and an ancient bronze sword.
As Brennus struggles through this new world of blood and magic, the tension between protecting Myrnna and avenging his homeland threatens to tear him apart. Failure means the curse of dishonour. Victory would bring glory to himself and his ancestors. But what if keeping both of his promises proves impossible?
In the words of his father…
“Nothing is unconquerable; even our gods can die.”
Hag of the Hills is the first book in The Bronze Sword Cycles duology, a heroic fantasy set in 200 B.C. on the Isle of Skye, steeped in Celtic mythology and culture.
Excerpt:
Prologue
Let the god of wordsmithing drape me with his cloak and light our night with his inspiration. I will tell you, my dearest Luceo, the tale of how I came to sit next to you at this fire, far from our homeland, after the so-called queen Slighan and her Hillmen tore it asunder. May you always recount my words at anyone’s beckoning. You are a budding bard, and your skill will wilt if your attention wanes.
A bronze sword strapped to my side, my feet caked in wet sand, the cold air on my warm face. I rode the world that day, down the strand against the Hillmen, and many crumpled before me. Even if you were to betray me, dearest Luceo, and wrought a lie from this tale, none could deny I struck true with my sword and spear that day.
In the span between Lughnasa and Samhain I had been a different man. In the grey tomb, I buried my soiled clothes, and the darkness of the tomb birthed a new man on a young day, out of the clothes and bronze and glory of my long dead ancestor.
My name is Vidav, but it had not always been so. Let it be known to all that one must rip himself from himself to form anew. Even still, as the new man walks, parts of the old one shadows him. Past features of him remain in me, just like the features of my father live on in my face, even if he is dead.
I bear bronze, a new soul, and both a gift and a curse. The latter is the ability to see the sidhe – the beings from Otherworld that often lurk in ours. This has brought both misery and glory upon me, ever since the hag had lured me into the hills.
Now I shall tell you how I first scaled the Slighan Hill, and why I would ever agree to the conditions the hag had offered me. I do not regret my choice. It has brought me men, a sword to kill my enemies, and honour back to my name. To attain that honour, I waded through briars of torment, deceit, and anguish. I saw what no mortal man should ever see, and all the gods above and below, and the sidhe that inhabit every glade, glen and grove, and every malign sidhe that inhabits every wind, snow and bog, could not have inflicted worse upon me. Yet I trudge on, through this thorny path, and I will free Skye from this foreign tyranny.
Now I shall start from the beginning, my dear Luceo, before I had killed myself.
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About J.T.T. Ryder:
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