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Harvest of Souls (Ebook)

Harvest of Souls (Ebook)

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Book 3 of The Soul Force Saga

Paperback Version


Even a legend can die.

The capital lies in ruins and Damien is no closer to finding Connor Blackman.

Now word has come that his invincible father has fallen in battle. Damien and Jen set aside everything to hunt down the monster responsible.

In the haunted lands Connor is busy building an army of unstoppable soldiers.

With Connor and Damien on a collision course, Jen and a handful of allies struggle to hold the pass that separates the kingdom form the haunted lands.

Sorcerer vs. Warlock. Warlord vs. Demon. Will the kingdom survive or will Connor harvest their souls for his infernal master?

Look Inside

Fredric St. Cloud sat in his hardback chair and stared at the report in his hand. He’d been struggling to read it for the past twenty minutes, but his mind kept wandering. He tossed the parchment down on his spotless desk and rubbed his face. How could it be that his son was now engaged to wed the princess and eventually become king? Fredric had warned both his children, more times than he could remember, that they should avoid politics like the plague. At least the demon sword forbore comment.

Damien was deep in it now. Fredric had refrained from recalling Jennifer to allow her to stay in the capital and support him. Not that there was any shortage of work for either of his children. In the six weeks since the quake, repairs had accelerated, but there still remained a great deal to do. He’d even gone so far as to send all the older students to the capital to help with the cleanup and repairs. The Citadel seemed too quiet with almost half his students and most of the other warlords away.

Someone knocked on his door and Fredric let out a great sigh, happy for any distraction from his muddled thoughts. “Come in.”

Rhys stuck his head in. He’d reassigned the veteran to serve as his assistant until his daughter returned. “There’s a farmer here I think you need to speak to.”

Fredric nodded, at this point he would have talked to anyone about anything. “Send him in.”

The door opened the rest of the way and a man perhaps fifty years old stepped through the door, the stink of manure crossing the office ahead of him. He wore dirt-caked trousers and a ragged tunic, both the color of grime. He was twisting a shapeless, broad-brimmed hat in his hands. The farmer glanced back at Rhys who nodded and shut the door behind him.

Fredric motioned his guest to the empty chair. He suppressed a wince at the dirty boot prints the farmer left as he crossed the office. The man sat like he feared someone might yank the chair out from under him.

“So, what can I help you with?” Fredric asked.

“Well, sir. The thing is I seen a demon and I didn’t know who best to tell. The Citadel is the closest bit of real government around and since you helped us with the goblins I figured you’d be the ones to see.”

Fredric frowned. If this was a joke it was in poor taste considering all the important problems in the kingdom right now. The farmer certainly seemed in earnest, but a demon? The odds of such a creature appearing in this area, especially after Damien and Jennifer had killed one less than a year ago seemed staggering. Not impossible though and if true it fell to Fredric, as the strongest warrior in the area, to deal with it.

“Describe this demon.”

The farmer looked away then back. “It was black, tall, kind of indistinct. Its eyes glowed red, that’s what I remember most.”

“How is it you survived encountering such a creature?”

“I only seen it, from a fair distance at that. I was chasing a lost calf in the woods when I stumbled on the monster. It moved through the trees like a ghost. It didn’t make no noise and it didn’t seem to notice me, thank heaven. The demon ducked inside a cave dug into the side of a hill. Soon as it got out of sight I ran. Never did find that calf. Someone needs to kill the thing before it gets one of us.”

“Will you excuse me for a moment, Mister…?”

“Smyth, sir.” The farmer scrambled up out of his chair. “I’ll wait outside, sir.”

He fled like a rabbit before a fox. When the door shut Fredric asked, “Was he telling the truth?”

He believes he saw a demon. Whether he actually did, who can say?

The demon sword seemed in a poor mood today. Her voice, if the silent words appearing directly in his mind counted as a voice, had an acid bite that set his teeth on edge. Fredric had no idea why. It seemed the fickle creature’s mood shifted like the weather.

“Are there demons that fit his description?”

There are demons that fit every description. What he saw is well within the realm of demonic possibility.

That seemed as close as he would get to a confirmation. He had already made up his mind to check it out, even if it turned out to be nothing Fredric needed to escape the office and this made a perfect excuse to go on a little hike. If he got to kill something at the end, so much the better.

He grabbed the sword from its stand and slipped it through the loop on his belt. Thus armed he went out into the hall and found a patiently waiting Smyth. “Can you lead me to where you saw the beast?”

“Of course.” A shiver ran through the farmer. “I’ll never forget that place as long as I live. It’s a long walk though. Half a day from my farm which is twenty miles south from here.” Smyth tapped his chin with a dirt-crusted finger. “We might make it before dark if we cut across country rather than retrace my route.”

“Can you ride?” Fredric asked.

The farmer’s eyes widened. “A plow horse, maybe.”

“Our destriers operate on the same principles, they just have bad attitudes. As long as you show them who’s boss you’ll be fine.”

The farmer trembled a bit. “If you say so, sir.”

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