by Amanda Fleet
“Would the people be able to elect Guardians to the Council?” asked someone from the back.
“No,” I said. “No more than you would elect a farmer or a miner.”
The discussion went back and forth, but there were few valid arguments for not sharing power and increasing communication, especially given the fact that the provinces could easily hold the city to ransom. With all the demons dead or trapped, the Guardians had little leverage. Lord Eredan asked Mathas for his opinion.
He stood slowly, letting his gaze settle on everyone gathered. “I must concur with Lady Aeron. There’s a great risk to the city if the people don’t feel as if they’ve been listened to or respected. There’s a water supply here, but all food comes from the provinces. Your role is to guard The Realm. The people ask: what is threatening The Realm at the moment? Don’t forget that Lady Aeron has spent time Outside. She knows the history of that place. She knows what’s happened there after every population crash. There was a redistribution of power to those who hadn’t had it before. Don’t mistake equality – true equality – for a loss of power, or you will indeed lose power. The people will have no use at all for Guardians – at least until another threat arises – and will dispose of all of you. You may all be fierce warriors, but the provinces outnumber you many times over.”
Lord Eredan drummed his fingers against his thigh, pursing his lips. He called for a vote on the principle of allowing representatives of the people to be on the Council. The vote was close but went narrowly in favour of my proposal. It was agreed that Faran, as Elected Successor, would call the village representatives to the city to discuss and finalise the details. He didn’t look as if he relished the prospect.
“And of course, Lady Aeron, as this is your idea, you’ll give Faran all the assistance he requires,” said Lord Eredan, smirking.
“Of course.”
I didn’t care if Faran delegated all of it to me, at least there was the chance The Realm might discover that greater democracy wasn’t the threat they feared.
***
The heat from the pyre coated my skin. We were gathered at the top of a hill, a fast-flowing river snaking its way through the valley below. The hillside swarmed with people ready to witness the final victory of the Guardians; the proof they’d protected The Realm. Only Sondan and Yanna were missing from the ranks of Guardians. He’d still be healing from his first flogging.
I shifted closer to Faran, catching his fingers. He smiled, but his face was tight, the light from the fire gilding his cheekbones.
Next to the pyre was a stack of eight carcasses, ready to be burned, Aegyir’s near the top, still chained tightly. Lord Eredan beckoned to his son, and Faran walked forward to help throw the carcasses on the fire.
The pyre was long enough to take four of the shrivelled remains at a time. It had been decided to burn Aegyir in the second tranche, in case burning the corpses turned out to be a mistake. However dire the other demons had been, they were nothing compared to Aegyir.
As the first four burned, thick, acrid smoke poured out, hanging in the air for a moment before dissipating on the breeze. Once the first four bodies had been completely destroyed by the fire, the remaining four were added. I fixed my eyes on Aegyir’s carcass. Clouds of smoke billowed out from the twisted shape, but they didn’t blow away. Lord Eredan and Faran piled more fuel on the pyre and it burned white-hot, almost blinding me, but I couldn’t look away. Inch by inch, Aegyir’s remains were disappearing, consumed by the fire.
Then the pall of smoke above the flames arranged itself in to a face, and my heart stopped with a lurch.
Aegyir.
The face smiled, the eyes glowing red. Everyone was transfixed. I tried to breathe but couldn’t. Had we made a mistake? Despite everything, had we still lost?
The smoke clumped as if it would take form, and alarm rang in the voices around me. Fingers, a hand, an arm took shape and reached down towards me, while the face filled with mirth.
I wanted to flee, but I was rooted to the spot. Faran rushed to my side, sword drawn, but what use would a sword be against smoke?
Just as the hand almost touched me, the wind picked up, snatching the smoke away and shredding it to ribbons before scattering it to the four corners. Faran’s arm snaked around my waist as I hauled air into my chest. A sharp keening filled the air, piercing deep into my soul. I looked up at the tatters of smoke above the flames.
Aegyir was gone. Forever.
— The End —
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Books By This Author
Lies That Poison
Whose side are you on? Alys’s or Hannah’s? Choose the wrong woman and you might end up dead.
When Tom Bowman moves to Yorkshire to start a new life, he meets two women who will change his life.
Alys is a young woman with a troubled past. Her ‘rules’ have kept her safe for the last few years, but as a relationship develops between her and Tom, is she prepared to break them?
Hannah is an elderly woman who is frequently confused, muddling the past and the present. She hates Alys and warns Tom that he’s in grave danger from the woman he’s falling in love with.
Tom has to choose who’s lying to him.
Believing the wrong person might make the difference between life and death.
A gripping contemporary psychological thriller that will keep you guessing.
The Wrong Kind of Clouds
Patrick Forrester is in trouble. Deep trouble. Someone wants him dead. In fact, lots of people want him dead, but one of them has taken him hostage. As he’s being bundled away, he manages to call his ex-lover, Summer Morris, and begs her for help.
Summer Morris, an award-winning photographer with synaesthesia, hasn’t spoken to Patrick for months. With good reason. But, he begged her for help, so she’s trying to help. Along with an off-duty police officer, Detective Sergeant LB Stewart, she gets swept into Patrick’s world of lies and deceit, in a desperate race against time to find him alive. Trying to unpick the knot of Patrick’s life takes them from an affair that could help bring down a government, to the dust and heat of Malawi, and a whole heap of trouble in between. If only they knew who wanted him dead, they might find him alive.
The trouble is, almost everyone wants Patrick dead.
Aegyir Rises
“Sitting on the kitchen table was a roundish leather bag, the size of a head, held closed by a drawstring. Balanced across the top of it was a sword.”
Reagan Bennett is just an ordinary woman, living with her long-term boyfriend, Finn. Isn’t she? So why is she haunted by dreams of another world? And who is leaving strange objects on her kitchen table for her?
And who – or what – is it that’s out to kill her?
Reagan needs to figure out exactly who her enemy is before they slaughter everyone she loves. And to do that, she needs to figure out who she really is.
Aeron Returns
Thrown through a portal into a world she thought only existed in her dreams, Reagan Bennett finds herself in The Realm: a place where everyone thinks she is the warrior Aeron. Unfortunately, Aeron was banished as a traitor, and forbidden from ever returning to The Realm. On pain of death.
No one is pleased to see her. Not even her husband, Faran, a man Reagan has dreamed about, but never met.
With no choice but to stay, Reagan has to fight not only the demon Aegyir, but all those in The Realm who are determined to be rid of her forever. Can she survive long enough to protect not only The Realm, but the world she once knew – Earth – from Aegyir’s murderous intentions?
Praise for Lies That Poison:
***** “Wow, wow, wow loved this book! One of the best books I've read
this year! Couldn't put it down. Had me guessing all the time - is Alys a liar and a poisoner or is the old lady senile? The book very cleverly takes you back and forth giving you little clues drip by drip. Is Tom in trouble or not? Who does he believe - the woman he loves or the old lady he is fond of?
The storyline is thrilling and believable. The characters are well written and believable. A very enjoyable read.
If you like a well written psychological thriller go for this- you won't be disappointed!”—Kindle Customer—Amazon
***** “A gripping tale which kept me engrossed from beginning to end. I couldn’t put the book down.”—Barb Dee—Amazon
***** “A brilliant story that I didn’t want to put down. I don’t give 5* very easily and this one deserves it in spades. Stunning.”—Misfits Farm—Amazon
Praise for The Wrong Kind of Clouds:
'Love your book! Lovely twists and turns and red herrings that kept me guessing right to the last. I do hope there are others in the pipeline. A series perhaps? Summer and LB are such good characters I would love to see them again.' —Alex Gray * author of the Detective William Lorimer series *
'A great read. I really enjoyed this book. Plenty of twists and turns and storyline threads that have you wondering right to the end. An interesting storyline set between Scotland and Malawi, a brilliant 1st novel and leaves you hoping for a sequel.' —Lisa Davies - Amazon review
About The Author
Amanda Fleet is a physiologist by training and a writer at heart. She spent 18 years teaching science and medicine undergraduates at St Andrews University, but now uses her knowledge to work out how to kill people (in her books).
During her time at St Andrews, she was involved with two Scottish Government funded projects, working with the College of Medicine in Blantyre, Malawi. While in Malawi, she learned about the plight of the many street children there and helped to set up a Community Based Organisation that works with homeless Malawian children to support them through education and training—Chimwemwe Children’s Centre.
Amanda lives in Scotland with her husband, where she can be found writing, walking and running.
If you want to keep up to date with all of the latest news, go to
www.amandafleet.co.uk
Find Amanda on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/AmandaFleetWriter/
Follow Amanda on Twitter
@amanda_fleet1
Acknowledgements
The Guardians of The Realm Trilogy has been a labour of love since 2014, one way or another. There are a lot of people who helped me cope with all the blood, sweat and tears along the way and I apologise profusely to anyone I miss out here. First and foremost, I need to thank my amazing editor, Fiona McLaren for all her advice, encouragement and work on all three of the books. Thank you. For telling me when things needed work (and how to fix it!), but also for telling me all the bits you loved. I also need to thank the fantastic circle of writing friends I have, who have held me together and supported me when things have been difficult, and who have been there to celebrate the successes. There are too many of you to list individually, but I do need to thank Jackie McLean and Tana Collins in particular. I also need to thank my writing buddy, Stuart Lennon, for all his advice and help (and for keeping me supplied with notebooks!). My wonderful beta-readers, Lisa Davies, Gerard McCabe, Jackie McLean, and Stuart Lennon helped both with early and late drafts. My thanks also to MiblArt, who did such a great job with the covers. And last but most certainly not least, my love and thanks to my husband, Colin, without whom none of these books would have happened.
