A Bard's Prophecy: Song Of The Bear 4 by Shelby Morgen

Author:Shelby Morgen [Morgen, Shelby]
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotic, Science Fiction/Fantasy
ISBN: 1-84360-725-5
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2003-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

Donovan’s song filtered through the soft light of dawn as they gathered. The rich, deep timber of his voice reached straight into their souls. They listened, enchanted, as if they’d never really heard the prophecy before.

Come to me, my people,

At the water’s edge.

Come to me, my Warriors.

Let the blood flow.

Come to me, my children.

Let us cleanse the Earth.

Let us sing the Song of The Bear.

They listened together as they had dreamed together. The song had more meaning now. They were the people gathered at the water’s edge. They were Warriors. They would make the blood flow. They would cleanse the Earth. They would avenge their fathers. They would reclaim their children.

The voice chanted on, repeating the song, as weapons appeared from their stockpiles, and mail covered the ragtag assortment of tunics, until they began to look like an army. Soldiers lined the wharf, the army arranged like a mighty hand, its fingers jutting out into the water on piers that were barely fit to hold the weight of them all.

As the sun slipped above the horizon, the docks were still for the first time in a century. Onlookers watched from the hillside, spectators with only a passing interest in whatever had brought the day’s labors to a close before they were even started.

And they waited. Warriors and Merchants alike, they waited.

As the sun rose above the watery horizon, Donovan’s voice grew quiet. The mists burned away with the full weight of the dawn, revealing what the night had hidden. A single ship sailed toward City of Port—a small, inauspicious ship that might otherwise have escaped notice.

“She comes.”

Giselle watched him now from where she stood on the front porch of the inn. No more the drunkard slumped over her bar, he stood tall now, the wind that bore the ship to them spreading his hair out behind him like a pennant. He stood as the rest, outfitted in chainmail and battle axe, and yet he stood apart, his voice the one that reached through the crowd, his song the one that had pulled them together.

His vision had built this army.

True, it was Braunnan and Cullaelon and Calib who had given the army form and weapons and armor, through their efforts and their organizational talents—and with the help of Anika’s fundraising capacities. But it was Donovan who gave them heart.

Giselle sighed. It would be easier if he wasn’t so damnably handsome. No, it wouldn’t. Because beyond that there was his voice. Her heart melted at the sound of his voice. It was all she could do to maintain her façade of indifference. She well knew who he fancied himself in love with. But when the General landed, when the army moved on, Giselle was the one who would be left here, alone once again. She had one fatherless child. She had no need of another.

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