Bio
T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and moved to the
Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the
islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed
a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa
and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa.
T. C. Southwell has written over thirty fantasy and science
fiction novels, as well as five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling,
horse riding and art, and she is now a full-time writer.
Excerpt:
In the time of Shamsara, Idol of the Beasts, on the
world of Chasym, favoured of the great god Tinsharon, Queen Minna-Satu, beloved
of the Jashimari, took power upon her mother’s deathbed. Tashi-Mansa, Elder
Queen of the Jashimari, died two days later from the poison she had taken, and
was duly interred within the royal tomb. On the day of her coronation,
Minna-Satu stood upon the Plinth of Power and declared herself sworn to her
people and the Endless War. Her declaration, however, proved different from
those who had gone before her, for she vowed to bring an end to the eternal
conflict.
Of the vast crowd that cheered and celebrated her
ascension, many went away muttering darkly of her vow, unable to envision a
world without war, an economy unspurred by the dark trades of death and
weaponry. The Jashimari and the desert people of the Cotti had been at war for
eight generations at least, some said longer, and none could remember its
beginning or the reason for it. All that was known was that each successive
queen was sworn to continue it, and every boy who reached manhood must fight in
it, save those of high rank. Now their young Queen, daughter of the long line
of queens who had upheld the honour of their people, had vowed to end it.
The seasoned warriors gathered before the golden
palace to witness the new Queen’s pledge raised their white-plumed spears in
salute, and the populace beyond their ranks roared in adulation, as if her
words had not reached them. In truth, the day’s celebrations, the music,
marching, chanting and priestly exhortations to the faithful, brushed this
oddity from most people’s minds much as a spider web is swept from its dusty
corner by a housewife’s broom. Some, with more ordered minds, noted it,
wondered at it, and filed it away, while others wrote it down in texts and
records. A few penned it on notes that swift, feathered messengers flew across
the land, into the hands of the enemy king.
Upon receiving the first of these messages, King
Shandor of the Cotti laughed uproariously and handed it to his eldest son.
Prince Kerrion read it and tossed it aside, his countenance unlightened by
levity. Shandor shook his head, still chuckling, and gazed at the sea of
armoured warriors that surrounded his desert camp, an unstoppable tide of brawn
marching inexorably towards the mountains that guarded Jashimari lands. There
they would hurl themselves against the defenders’ ramparts in waves of bloody
combat in the time-honoured way.
Thus, with Queen Minna-Satu’s declaration, began a
time that would be remembered always. A time of sorrow and pain, of struggle
and sacrifice; a time that would be named after the man who brought it about: the
time of the Queen’s Blade.
Free
download link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33966
Contact T.C. Southwell
Email: fantasyauthor21@gmail.com
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