By C. J. Cherryh
"I Dreamed of Owl. that suggests Wizardry is Near."
Tristen is a weapon in an historic warfare among wizardry and sorcery. he's a summoning and a shaping, dropped at existence by means of a wizard. And his sword is a weapon besides. Its willing blade, marked Illusion on one aspect and Truth on the opposite, as soon as helped Tristen win the throne of Ylesuin for the younger king Cefwyn, gaining Tristen the stewardship of the courageous nation of Amefel.
Tristen's rule in Amefel is blessed with striking pals: one a stalwart and straightforward warrior, the opposite a tender insurgent with royal blood. however the scarlet banners of struggle are unfolding back, and much greater than a nation is at stake. Now Tristen needs to absorb the sword--as good because the Sihhë magic he has forsworn. he's destiny's personal, created a combatant in a much older and extra fearsome clash than any ever imagined by way of mere mortal guy. And he's approximately to do conflict once again. . . .
Rich with magic, intrigue, and event, this excessive myth sequence from the acclaimed C. J. Cherryh brings to existence a fascinating international as actual as, but way more wondrous, than our own.
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Additional info for Fortress of Owls (Fortress, Book 3)
Shiva raised his sword defensively as the shepherd came up close. Feigning a sideward movement to draw the shepherd into an aggressive attack, Shiva dropped his sword low. The shepherd should have been tempted to move in for a kill wound and in response, Shiva would have quickly raised his sword and dug it deep into the shepherd’s heart. The shepherd, however, moved unexpectedly. Instead of taking advantage of Shiva’s opening, he tried to strike Shiva’s shoulder. Shiva quickly raised his right arm and swung viciously, inflicting a deep wound across the shepherd’s torso.
Shiva had considered asking Nandi about the whereabouts of Sati but had eventually decided against it. He was painfully aware that he had made a less than spectacular impression on her at their first meeting. If she hadn’t made it easy for him to find her, it only meant that she wasn’t terribly stirred by him. He didn’t want to compound the issue by speaking casually about her to others. He smiled as the memory of her face came flooding back to him. He replayed the magical moments when he had seen her fighting.
Only a calm breeze broke the almost deathly silence that enveloped the audience. The Guruji, Sati and Krittika looked in amazement at Shiva. They did not understand what he was doing but could feel the energy that Shiva’s stance was emanating. Shiva raised both his arms in an elegant circular movement to the sides to bring them in line with his shoulder. His right hand was moulded into a position like it was holding an imaginary dumru , a small, handheld percussion instrument. His left hand was open with its palm facing upward, almost like it was receiving some divine energy.