The Oathbreaker's Shadow **SAMPLE COMPLETE**

Part 1 - Chapter 1.1

Raim sat in the crook of an old, cracked tree, one leg dangling in the breeze, his head leaning back against the trunk. Long, needle-like leaves shaded him from the oppressive heat and hid him from the view of his grandfather, in case he was looking to assign Raim yet another chore. He just wanted a moment to himself. From his vantage point he could see his clan’s settlement of yurts, the dome-like tents that made up his home, and watched as smoke lifted lazily out of the circular holes in the centre of the roofs.

A rustling at the base of the tree distracted him. He looked down and spied two of the younger clan boys, Lousha and Nem, huddled around a small parcel wrapped in white paper.

‘Do you swear you’ll guard this for me?’ Nem whispered to Lousha, while keeping one chubby brown hand on the goods.

‘Yes!’ said Lousha.

‘Cross your heart?’

‘Yup.’

‘Suffer like a traitor in Lazar?’

The other boy shuddered, but nodded.

‘Will you make a knot for it?’

‘A knot?’ There was a moment’s hesitation as Lousha chewed on his lower lip. ‘Fine, let’s do it.’

They scrabbled around for something to tie it with. Lousha ripped a loose thread from his tunic while Nem plucked a long, dark hair from his head. Then, with solemn determination etched on their faces, they folded one thread on top of the other and held them in a loose loop.

‘Do you promise me you’ll guard this until I return, and will you seal your vow with this knot?’ said Nem.

‘I promise, and I seal it with this knot,’ said Lousha, and then they both pulled until the two threads became one. Nem nodded before jumping up and disappearing into the village of yurts beyond.

A corner of the paper lifted in the breeze, and a hint of sticky sweet honey aroma wafted into the air. Honey cake. A Darhanian delicacy, it was baked only for special occasions, like this afternoon’s ceremonies. The scent tantalized Raim’s nostrils, as if he could taste the pastry already, sense the flakes crumbling and melting in the heat of his mouth – and he knew the boy below was feeling the same temptation. Lousha waited until he was sure his friend had gone. Then he inched forward for a closer sniff, putting his nose right down next to the ground and taking a deep breath. One finger, and then another hesitantly stretched in the pastry’s direction.

Don’t do it, thought Raim. Almost as if he had spoken the words aloud, something seemed to hold the boy back. He stared down at the tatty piece of knotted hair and thread in his hand. He bit his lip. Raim bit his lip too, and dropped to a lower branch, sending showers of needles to the ground.

Lousha snatched the parcel and held it protectively to his chest and craned his neck to look around, brow furrowed in suspicion. Look up, Raim silently pleaded. If Lousha knew he had an observer he wouldn’t be so quick to break his promise. But with the cake now in his grasp, so tantalizingly close to his mouth . . . the boy flicked the thread as far as he could. Then he ripped the paper off as fast as his little fingers could manage and stuffed the cake into his mouth.

Raim sighed and began counting inside his head: One, two . . .

The discarded knot began to fizzle. A flame sparked to life, then quickly dissolved into a puff of black smoke.

. . . three.

Before the first of the honey cake crumbs had dissolved on his tongue, the smoke blew back over Lousha’s hand and seared a bright red mark into his palm.