The
White Arrow
The
Bow of Hart Saga: Book 3
by
P.H. Solomon
Genre:
Epic Fantasy
From the author of The Bow of Destiny, Fantasia Reviews 2016 Book of the Year, and An Arrow Against the Wind comes the thrilling conclusion of The Bow of Hart Saga - Fall of 2017! Pre-order your copy today!
Bound to prophecy, his destiny balanced on an arrow’s tip.
Athson
has found the Bow of Hart and is being pursued by his enemies as well
as haunted by both his past and his failures. But according to Hastra
the Withling, the prophecy of the bow indicates Eloch will send an
arrow for its use. Magdronu watches for the appearance of the arrow
and sets his plans in motion to regain control of his magic. With his
sights set on Auguron, the dragon sends his forces on the attack
while waiting for his chance to steal both prophesied elements that
stand in the way of his ultimate goal. But when the arrow arrives, it
is from a most unexpected source and lands in unforeseen hands, so
that events twist like an arrow in flight. Can Athson overcome his
past and his failures to use the Bow of Hart as intended against
Magdronu? The archer and the bow await the coming arrow…
Finish the hunt with The White Arrow!
The
third novel of The Bow of Hart Saga from P. H. Solomon, The White
Arrow, is a new edition to the great quest fantasy novels in the
tradition of R. A. Salvatore, Piers Anthony, Terry Brooks and Terry
Goodkind.
Athson rolled onto his side and struggled to his knees. He gathered
his belongings and dragged them toward the mule. He touched the animal, and it
snorted, then flicked its tale. He leaned against the animal. So weary. But he
must go, sickness or not. There was his mother to find. "I'm tired of
dreams ruling my sleep and my life."
"Dreams,
eh?" Apeth stepped beside Athson. "Don't you think you should be
resting?"
"I
need to find my mother." He motioned to the cave entrance. "It
stopped snowing. The storm's passed."
"You're
still sick. You won't make it far, even with the mule." Apeth squeezed
Athson’s shoulder. "I can appreciate your sentiments. But come back to the
fire. Eat something and tell me of your dreams. You can go then, if you like,
though I suspect our way lies north for days together."
The cave
tilted in Athson's vision, and Apeth steadied him. "Need to go." He
caught sight of a star beyond the upper edge of the cave opening. It was
bright. He stumbled away from the Withling, his mouth agape. He leaned against a
rock as he gazed east in the star-clad night sky. One big star rose over the
distant Drelkhaz Mountains, a tail extending in a haze below it. "That
looks just like an arrow."
Apeth
gaped at the scene as well. Then he muttered, "An arrow shall Eloch
prepare."
"What?"
Athson wheeled toward the old Withling and almost fell over in his weakness. If
he had the energy, he'd be angry. Heat rose on his cheeks at the words he'd
heard back at Eagle's Aerie from Zelma. "Where did you hear that?"
Apeth
stared at the sight a moment longer, then turned to Athson. "I was there
when the words were spoken by Zelma, Howart, and Hastra." He motioned
toward the sky. "This marvel, this wandering star, foretells the coming of
Eloch's arrow for the Bow of Hart."
Athson
tucked his chin. "That bow is worthless." It hadn't saved his father,
hadn't killed Corgren. No, he'd chosen the wrong target. "That's nothing.
Just something in the sky. Dreams and prophecies don't work unless it's ill
fortune." He grabbed his head. Maybe he should lie down. No. Time to
escape Withlings and help his mother. He stumbled toward the mule and his gear
but veered sideways.
The
Withling grabbed Athson again and steered him back to the fire. "At least
eat some venison. You're still fevered."
At the
fire, Athson sat and struggled to keep his balance while Apeth threw wood on
the flames. He shut his eyes as the cave spun slowly around him. The memory of
another dream rose:
A figure steps from foggy shadows, but not the
cloaked Bane. Instead, he sees a familiar floppy hat that shades the face from
clear sight.
The trapper from Afratta offers the sword, hilt
first. In the slim light, the edges gleam crimson and blue. "Remember what
the edges are for."
Athson grasps the hilt.
The mysterious man turns to leave and pauses.
"Remember, it's not for him."
"How
did you know about the edges of my sword?" Athson opened his eyes and swayed
with his dizziness. A coughing fit erupted, and when it cleared, he said,
"I dreamed you told me to remember what the edges are for..." He
trailed away for a moment. Should he discuss his dreams? He plunged ahead. No
reason to hide anything anymore. He had the Bow of Hart now. "Then you
told me how to use it back at Marston's Station. It—something spoke to me about
when, how, to use the sword. I dreamed about it before I got it back, and the
edges were the same as I saw. I was told then that they are for justice and
mercy. I dreamed you told me the same thing, and then you did. How did you
know?"
Apeth
handed him some venison. "Athson, I didn't know what to speak. It would
seem you have gifts from Eloch. Tell me, have there been other dreams, maybe
visions?"
Athson
slouched. This discussion was getting personal. He didn't want a Withling
knowing it. He shrugged. What did it matter? It was all done, and the bow was
useless to him except as a bargaining piece. He ate the venison, and his
stomach rumbled in answer. "Uh, yes. I have. They come true. The details
are so precise sometimes, either words or what I've seen or heard."
The
Withling leaned back on his bedding. "Please, tell me more. I'd like to
hear it."
Athson's
eyes narrowed. "Now, why don't I trust you?"
Apeth
sat up and leaned close to Athson, his gaze intense but not threatening, his
voice steady. "Why wouldn't you?"
"Because..."
But no other words formed in Athson's mind. Did he really have a reason? He
took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. Why not? "Alright, I'll tell
you." He related all he remembered from Eagle's Aerie or visions and
dreams, all that had happened on the trail, the sword at Harkey's Post, other
dreams along the way. He spoke of Limbreth and how she appeared in his life out
of the vision. He spoke of how they were so distinctly accurate. He included
his other dreams outside of Chokkra and how they came true in vivid details.
The
Withling merely listened, his eyes fixed on Athson throughout the wandering
tale of his prescient dreaming and their accuracy.
Athson
finished and ate in silence, and Apeth spoke no reply. The fire crackled in the
silence between them.
Apeth
pushed himself to his feet and then knelt before Athson. He touched Athson's
head and whispered a word Athson never heard clearly, but it echoed across his
mind in a moment that passed like hours.
Wellness
covered Athson in an instant like a raincoat donned in a sudden downpour of
rain. The cascade of sickness rolled from him. The fever fell away. The
dizziness ceased, and his vision snapped into clarity along with his thoughts.
Weariness clattered from his limbs like chains from a prisoner. He gasped in
delayed reaction to the Withling's healing.
Apeth
Stellin withdrew across the fire and rolled his bedding. "I was wondering
why I was withheld from healing you. And now it's clear."
Athson
stood. "I don't follow you."
"We
need to move." Apeth pointed toward the cave entrance past the mule.
"That wandering star is a sign. We aren't the only ones to have seen it.
You can bet Magdronu is seeking the arrow. North is our way, but choices lie
ahead for you."
Athson
shoved the last of his venison in his mouth and chewed. In his mind, there was
but one choice. "I see one way ahead."
Apeth
tugged at the brim of his hat, and his blue-eyed gaze twinkled at Athson.
"Oh, you have choices. What to do with the bow. Whether to finish this
quest and find the arrow."
With his
arms spread wide, Athson lifted his gaze to the darkened cave roof rising above
them. "Don't you see? There's no need for choices. Everyone's dead that
matters to me. My father. Limbreth. My companions. I can only see my way to one
thing now, and that's bartering for my mother."
"That's
a choice to let the curse on you continue to grasp your life, Athson, continue to
let Magdronu's evil control you. You have a choice to stop it." Apeth
stepped close again, intense but not threatening. "As for Limbreth, by
your dream, I wouldn't assume anything about her fate. But there are choices
ahead. Will you go as far as Marston's Station with me before you make your
final choice with the bow?"
Athson
nodded. "I'll go that far. I need supplies. But there's no other choice
for me."
"Oh,
but there is. Your dreams indicate something you must face." Apeth
gathered his things and paused in front of Athson.
Athson
crossed his arms. "What must I face?"
"That
you are gifted to be a Withling, asked to serve Eloch with everything you've
been given." The Withling strode toward the mule.
Athson's
head spun anew, but not from fever. Light from the wandering star shone in the
entrance of the cave and lit the Bow of Hart where he'd left it near the mule.
His anger rose in a sudden shout. "No!"
An
Arrow Against the Wind
The
Bow of Hart Saga: Book 2
Haunted
by his past. Hunted in the present. Buffeted like an arrow in the
wind.
The
hunt for the Bow of Hart continues for Athson and his companions.
They have escaped the clutches of Magdronu and Corgren, but they are
still pursued. In need of answers to deep mysteries revealed in
Chokkra, Athson must gain possession of the mythic bow to face both
his enemies and his tragic past. But Magdronu's reach stretches among
Athson's companions, endangering Limbreth and even Hastra in schemes
to entrap them all. With each turn of the search for the Bow of Hart,
long hidden secrets surface that threaten to destroy Athson. Will he
falter like an arrow against the wind?
"An Arrow Against the Wind is a wonderful follow-up to The Bow of Destiny." - Bookwraiths
"We have read more than a couple great books this year, and An Arrow Against the Wind is surely among them." - Fantasia Reviews
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The
Bow of Destiny
The
Bow of Hart Saga: Book 1
Haunted
by his past. Hunted in the present. Uncertain what is real.
Athson
has seen things that aren't there and suffered fits since being
tragically orphaned as a child at the hands of trolls and Corgren the
wizard. When a strange will mentioning a mysterious bow comes into
his possession, he's not sure it's real. But the trolls that soon
pursue him are all too real and dangerous. And what's worse, these
raiders serve Corgren and his master, the hidden dragon, Magdronu,
who are responsible for the destruction of his childhood home. Athson
is drawn into a quest for the concealed Bow of Hart by the mystic
Withling, Hastra, but Athson isn't always sure what's real and who
his enemies are. With Corgren and Magdronu involved, Athson must face
not only frequent danger but his grasp on reality and the reasons
behind his tragic past.
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P.
H. Solomon lives in the greater Birmingham, AL area where he strongly
dislikes yard work and sanding the deck rail. However, he performs
these duties to maintain a nice home for his loved ones as well as
the family’s German Shepherds. In his spare time, P. H. rides herd
as a Computer Whisperer on large computers called servers (harmonica
not required). Additionally, he enjoys reading, running, most sports
and fantasy football. Having a degree in Anthropology, he also has a
wide array of more “serious” interests in addition to working
regularly to hone his writing. The Bow of Destiny is his first
novel-length title with more soon to come.
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1 comments:
Incredible Post.
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