Other books by Marc Alan Edelheit.
Chronicles of a Legionary Officer
Book One: Stiger’s Tigers
Book Two: The Tiger
Book Three: The Tiger’s Fate
Book Four: The Tiger’s Time
Book Five: The Tiger’s Wrath
Book Six: The Tiger’s Imperium
Book Seven: The Tiger’s Fight (Coming 2022)
Tales of the Seventh
Part One: Stiger
Part Two: Fort Covenant
Part Three: A Dark Foretoken
Part Four: Thresh (TBA)
The Karus Saga
Book One: Lost Legio IX
Book Two: Fortress of Radiance
Book Three: The First Compact
Born of Ash:
Book One: Fallen Empire (Coming 2021)
Book Two: Infinity Control (Coming 2021)
Book Three: Rising Phoenix (Coming 2021)
The Way of Legend: With Quincy J. Allen
Book One: Reclaiming Honor
Book Two: Forging Destiny
Book Three: Paladin’s Light (Coming 2021)
Nonfiction:
Every Writer’s Dream: The Insider’s Path to an Indie Bestseller
Forging Destiny
The Way of Legend Book 2
by
Marc Alan Edelheit
and
Quincy J. Allen
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Forging Destiny: Book 2, The Way of the Legend
First Edition
Copyright © 2020 by Marc Edelheit. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
I wish to thank my agent, Andrea Hurst, for her invaluable support and assistance. I would also like to thank my beta readers, who suffered through several early drafts. My betas: Jon Cockes, Nicolas Weiss, Paul Klebaur, James Doak, David Cheever, Bruce Heaven, Erin Penny, April Faas, Rodney Gigone, Tim Adams, Paul Bersoux, Phillip Broom, David Houston, Sheldon Levy, Michael Hetts, Walker Graham, Bill Schnippert, Jan McClintock, Jonathan Parkin, Spencer Morris, Jimmy McAfee, Rusty Juban, Joel M. Rainey, Jeremy Craig, Nathan Halliday, Ed Speight, Joseph Hall, Michael Berry, Tom Trudeau, Sally Tingley-Walker, James H. Bjorum, Franklin Johnson, Marshall Clowers. I would also like to take a moment to thank my loving wife, who sacrificed many an evening and weekend to allow me to work on my writing.
Editing Assistance by Hannah Streetman, Audrey Mackaman, Brandon Purcell
Cover Art by Piero Mng (Gianpiero Mangialardi)
Cover Formatting by Telemachus Press
Agented by Andrea Hurst & Associates, LLC
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Marc’s note:
For clarification purposes, Tovak’s tale takes place a handful of years before Karus and the Ninth arrive on Tannis. Both stories also take place on different continents.
Writing with another author is always a unique experience. In my experience, it tends to produce books that have a unique flavor that is distinct from other works. I believe that has only served to enhance Tovak’s tale and helps to set it apart from my other work. I know it has also made me a better writer. Forging Destiny has been a true labor of love and a joy for both Quincy and myself. I sincerely hope you enjoy this book.
You may wish to sign up to my newsletter to get the latest updates on my writing.
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Reviews keep us motivated and also help to drive sales. I make a point to read each and every one, so please continue to post them.
I hope you enjoy Forging Destiny and would like to offer a sincere thank you for your purchase and support.
Best regards,
Marc Alan Edelheit, author and your tour guide to the worlds of Tannis and Istros
Dedication
This book is dedicated to each and every fan who ever picked up a copy of one of Marc Edelheit’s novels, and specifically those who enjoyed Reclaiming Honor. It is an honor and a privilege to be allowed to play in this particular sandbox.
~ Quincy
A Word on the Great March from Grimbok Lorekeeper
To all those readers of the common tongue of Tannis who find themselves in possession of Forging Destiny, the continuation of the tale of Tovak Stonehammer, know that by this time, his honor had been reclaimed in the eyes of many within the Blood Badgers Warband, but certainly not all. The stigma of Pariah runs deep amongst my people, and for some, the taint of his lineage would remain with him until the end of his days. To his credit, and as was his way, that young, noble Dvergr learned to rise above a lifetime of petty disdain, censure, and abuse. Instead, with every breath he took, he remained steadfast in his service to the Blood Badgers, the Dvergr people, and to the mighty god Thulla, above all.
As in my previous work on Tovak Stonehammer, Reclaiming Honor, accommodations were made so that most readers could more deeply fathom the experiences and deeds of young Tovak as my people endeavored to avoid servitude to or extermination by the Horde. I should add that the Great March was only our most recent exodus towards safety, freedom, and, we believed, a new destiny. Just as we had on more than one occasion in the past, we fought against all odds with a stubborn determination which—and I offer this with a considerable amount of pride—has frustrated our enemies for millennia, and in some cases to the point of literal madness.
You must understand that, long ago, on a distant world, far from but inextricably linked to Tanis, we chose to stand against the oncoming avalanche of the Horde. It nearly destroyed us—all of us. When we were faced with the very real possibility of our complete annihilation, we gathered up what little we had left and moved on. There were those of us, to be sure, who wanted to stand, fight, and die for the sake of Legend, but wisdom prevailed over the desire for honor, and for one reason only. We existed when the Horde was born, and we, as a people, fully intend to exist long after the suns of every world in the heavens have set upon the Horde’s utter and—if we have anything to say about it—fiery destruction.
It is often said that history is cyclical, and oft repeats itself. It is because of this one irrefutable truth that, in the time of Tovak, we once again found ourselves retreating in the face of the only implacable enemy we have ever known. The Great March—although I should say this Great March, if I am to set it properly within the context of the whole of my people’s history—was a thoroughly perilous time for us, not the least of which were the specific events which befell young Tovak on our journey across the Grimbar Plateau and beyond.
It was only known to a select few, but Grata’Dagoth, detailed in ancient prophecy, was always our destination. Though if I am being honest, I must admit that we did not even know how to open its gates were we to find them, but now I get ahead of myself. All we knew at the time was that the mysterious fortress, wherever it lay, might hold within it the salvation of our people. Our pursuit of it was a leap of faith for a people who had lost their own. It was desperation and determinatio
n that drove us, to be sure, but in hindsight, I must believe that, although we had turned away from our faith, our faith had not fully turned away from us. For, you see, something stirred within Tovak’s breast in those days, and none of us could ever have foreseen where it would lead us all.
So, with only the vaguest notion as to where Grata’Dagoth lay, let alone what might exist beyond, my people steeled themselves for the inevitable trials and tribulations we were certain to encounter as we stubbornly drove towards the hope of a new life. We did so with the Blood Badgers as our vanguard, led by the warchief Karach Skullsplitter, who had and would face a litany of challenges as his warband forged a trail for my people to follow. With one difficult crisis after another, and frequently with Tovak at the center of it all, we also discovered what fearsome odds the universe had set against us. In that realization, we came to understand that if we were to achieve our freedom, it would not be without a terrible and bloody price.
It is, therefore, with humility and respect that I present to you Forging Destiny. It is the second volume in the Tale of Tovak, and in it we see the first burning sparks of what lay ahead for both him and our people.
His was the Way of Legend.
Your humble servant,
Grimbok Lorekeeper
Scribe to the Thane Rogar Bladebreaker
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
“Look, another swarm.” Tovak’s voice carried over the steady crunch of boots as he pointed towards a cloud of heratta seeming to flow over a ridge to the north.
He let the sight of the swarm push away the feeling of guilt and unhappiness that had filled his heart since the morning’s march began, a little over an hour before. The sight of the large insects taking to the air was incredible and the sheer number of them staggering. This was the third such flock they had seen in the last half hour, as the bugs continued their annual migration out into the rich grasslands of the Grimbar Plateau.
Fifth Company, what remained of the Baelix Guard, and a handful of archers were marching along the edge of the vast grasslands that made up the plateau, which was to his immediate left. To his right were the ridges. These led to the valleys and then ultimately to the higher ground of the mountains. Like grand specters of doom, those forbidding mountain peaks rose to near unimaginable heights off in the far distance.
Eyeing the nearest ridges, Tovak felt a sense of unease. After the events of the last few days, he almost dreaded leaving the plateau again, and it was a certainty that they would.
The second of Tannis’s suns had only just cleared the horizon. Morning sunlight washed over the marching column of Dvergr, casting long shadows. Although the two suns had begun to warm the land, there seemed no warmth in the hearts of the warriors who marched together in near silence. There were no marching songs or stone flutes playing an inspiring tune to help keep pace. The mood of Tovak’s comrades was grim to say the least.
“Bloody heratta,” Dagmar grumbled behind Tovak, a little too loud. “I hope they feed on the bones of whatever got Struugar and the Second.”
The words sent a pang of worry through Tovak’s heart as he glanced back at his squad mate. Dagmar was hobbling along with a noticeable limp, grimacing with each step. The injury seemed to be not as bad as the day before, but Tovak thought it clear the warrior was hurting. Dagmar had refused to be sent back to the warband and had insisted on coming with them.
“Stow that trash,” Sergeant Thegdol barked, having obviously overhead the comment. The sergeant marched at the head of the Baelix Guard’s column. He turned and glared back over his shoulder at the offender. “First of all, you incredibly dumb durpa, heratta only eat plants,” Thegdol growled. “They don’t even have teeth for meat and are about the most harmless things in these parts. I thought you might already have figured that one out. All we’ve been doing these last few weeks has been hunting those very bugs. I swear, Dagmar, there are days I think you must be as stupid as you are ugly.”
“Not as ugly as you, Sarge,” Dagmar shot back, with a trace of a grin. “Yours is a face only a mother could love.”
Dagmar was playing with fire.
“I thought the sarge was your mother,” someone from behind called out.
It was the first time in the march Tovak had heard any levity. There were a handful of chuckles that followed, but not many. The grim mood hung heavy over the column.
“One ugly mother, then,” Dagmar said. “Tell me you love me, Mother Thegdol. I don’t hear it enough.”
Though his glare did not soften, Thegdol’s beard twitched slightly around the corners of his mouth as he looked back at them.
“Just like any mother and her children, I love all you bastards equally,” Thegdol said after a slight hesitation. “I play no favorites, but I do hand out punishment details. And … I feel one coming on.” The sergeant paused, his gaze sweeping across the column marching behind him. “Regardless, and because I love you all, I will give it to you plain as its day, boys. Straight and clear, so that even a dumb durpa like Dagmar here can follow.” The sergeant’s tone softened a hair. “Boys, we have no idea what happened to Captain Struugar and the others. It’s as simple as that, and until we do, there will be no speculation in the ranks.” The sergeant’s tone hardened again. “Is that understood?”
“It’s not like they got lost, Sergeant,” Dagmar said.
Tovak shook his head. He’d learned that Dagmar often had more brash in him than brains.
“I said stow it”—Thegdol’s tone hardened even further, becoming like tempered steel—“or when we get back to the warband, I’ll have you shoveling teska shit until those brown locks of yours turn gray.”
Thegdol moved to the side of the column and slowed his pace until he was dead center in the middle of the march. He raised his voice so they all could hear.
“The captain is the best company commander in the Blood Badgers. You all know that, and I shouldn’t have to say it. Assuming he did run into trouble, I’ll bet he’s up there right now”—Thegdol jerked a thumb towards the nearest ridge—“waiting for us to come to his aid.”
The sergeant turned fierce eyes back on Dagmar and seemed to dare him to say otherwise. This time, Dagmar had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.
“Do you have anything to add?” Thegdol pressed. “Now’s your chance.”
“No, Sergeant,” Dagmar said. “I don’t.”
“Good,” he growled, then raised his voice slightly, addressing the entire section. “Then keep the chatter to a minimum. We’re out here to find the captain and Second Section. We’re gonna bring them home. Until Karach says otherwise, they are out there somewhere, waiting for us. That we don’t have contact with them does not mean they’re bloody dead. Understand me?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Tovak and the others replied in unison.
Thegdol raked his gaze across the column. Apparently pleased his message had been received, he gave a sharp nod. With that, the sergeant picked up his pace and resumed his original position at the head of the section’s column.
Marching at Tovak’s side, Gorabor looked over at him, before leaning nearer and whispering, “It’s hard not to think about it. And last night was … I don’t know … . I’ve never felt relieved to be alive, happy that we came out on top, and defeated all at the same time. Gods, it feels good to have survived … but Staggen. I feel so terrible about that … poor bastard. He deserved better than to be
bent over an altar and slaughtered like an animal.”
Tovak was silent for a long moment as he recalled Staggen’s death. It was something he would not soon forget, and he suspected it would be with him to his dying days.
“I know what you mean.” Tovak looked over at his friend, even as thoughts carried him to the day before, the rescue of his comrades, the desperate flight from the enemy’s camp, the terrible fear, the moment he’d been cornered and known his personal end was at hand. Then, astonishingly, had come deliverance at the hands of the warchief himself and two companies of heavy infantry. It almost seemed like it had not happened, but it had. Tovak had not been dreaming. Just as he’d saved Gorabor and Dagmar, he’d been saved.
After it was all over, Tovak had been complimented for his bravery at rescuing his comrades. It was a new experience for him, being recognized for his worth. He was, after all, a Pariah.
Due to his actions, the warband had won a small victory over the enemy, but in a way, Tovak felt like he had failed. The price had been too high. Not only had the Baelix Guard suffered serious losses in the raid on their camp, but he had intentionally violated orders in going alone to rescue his comrades and best friend, Gorabor.
His gaze tracked to the sergeant’s back. It was an unforgivable breach but Tovak had felt driven to make the attempt … compelled even. He had been willing to risk it all to do what was right and it had mostly worked out. Staggen had been the only one he’d been unable to save. That gnawed at him and made him feel like he’d failed. The sergeant had said otherwise.
Thegdol had also given Tovak a stern warning. Should he violate orders a second time, he knew he would not be forgiven. His chance at reclaiming his honor would be done and the warband would cast him out.
“After all that we went through up there”—Gorabor nodded towards the nearest ridges—“do you think they live? Second, that is …. Do you think it’s as the sergeant says?”
Tovak glanced in the direction Gorabor had indicated and was silent for a long moment before looking back over at his friend. “For what it’s worth, and I can’t explain why … I ….” Tovak hesitated, then decided to plow ahead. “Something tells me Struugar is alive up there, and we have to get to him … soon. They need our help.”
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