Kurzbeschreibung
Behind a wall in a hidden chamber lies a dark secret: The Blood Gate. Legend hints at its awesome power—and its dreadful costs. Since ancient times, the mysterious portal has been kept sealed and hidden. Only the great Xarhux himself had ever dared to enter...
And he emerged with the strength of a god.
And the mind of a madman.
Now, a young descendant of the Conqueror, the exiled Prince Hurrus, must discover the Blood Gate's terrible secret if he is ever to reclaim the throne of his father.
His people fight and die for his return. Bands of rebels wage a hopeless war against vast supernatural forces. Outmatched and increasingly desperate, a single dream keeps them alive—the dream of the return of their king. The dream of Hurrus.
But he must first face what few have survived—hired blades of the famed Prathian Guard...
Unforgettable characters, non-stop action, romance, and intrigue…
Military fantasy for fans of historical fiction. Based loosely on the era of Alexander's Successors. From the author of The War God's Men.
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REVIEW
"And when the author promises unforgettable characters, non-stop action, romance, and intrigue, he most certainly delivers. The Blood Gate engages the reader quickly from the beginning and transports them into a world of war and treachery. A definite 5 stars out of 5.
"This may be my shortest review, but there is a limit to the number of ways I can say this book was awesome—go read it."
Erica Woolridge, Sift Book Reviews
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EXCERPT
They came upon the two dead men just after dawn. They had not made it far. The Sarians had left their bodies for the sandrunners and the scavengers huddled round them as though at a feeding trough. Of the one, Hurrus could see nothing but a pair of sandaled feet protruding from the mass of scaly, green-backed lizards. Of the other, he saw rather too much. He felt his stomach lurch.
"Deon…" Hurrus said.
Deon rode down the slope. One of the sandrunners popped its head above the others and stared at him, its big round yellow eyes as piercing as a bird's.
"A madness must have seized them," Xandros muttered.
"They were attempting to desert to the Sarians. To the Sarians." Hurrus said in disbelief.
"It is thirst that drives them."
Others had stolen away into the desert to die quietly. These had died anything but quietly. The Sarians had tortured them through most of the night. The entire camp had heard them screaming. After that, it had been the constant yipping and squawking of animals - sandrunners, foxes and hyenas. Some of the men said they were not desert beasts at all but the Sarians themselves, creeping up onto the dunes to imitate the creatures of the Eastern Desert, trying to unnerve the soldiers. Others said they were the jackal-headed minions of Hathor, companions of the dead. In either case, fatigue and fear could now be added to the list of the soldiers' woes.
Deon approached the creatures and began waving his arms. The sandrunners scattered, revealing bodies that had been stripped of flesh and meat to their bones. Hurrus sent five more men down to help Deon conceal the corpses. "I don't want the men to see them," he said. The sandrunners had not retreated far. Peering out from behind bushes and out of hollows in the ground, they watched the men dragging the bodies away. Sandrunners were their constant companions now. A man could not stagger off to relieve himself without flushing them from rocks and bristling shrubs.
"Some of our men would count these lucky," Xandros said. "For them, their torment is over."
"These two unfortunates were Tepes' men, not mine," Hurrus said.
"All men suffer," said Xandros.
Hurrus turned back. He had called a halt to the march and his men sat in exhaustion in the road. Horses grazed among the shrubs and grasses that sprouted on the hillsides.
And he emerged with the strength of a god.
And the mind of a madman.
Now, a young descendant of the Conqueror, the exiled Prince Hurrus, must discover the Blood Gate's terrible secret if he is ever to reclaim the throne of his father.
His people fight and die for his return. Bands of rebels wage a hopeless war against vast supernatural forces. Outmatched and increasingly desperate, a single dream keeps them alive—the dream of the return of their king. The dream of Hurrus.
But he must first face what few have survived—hired blades of the famed Prathian Guard...
Unforgettable characters, non-stop action, romance, and intrigue…
Military fantasy for fans of historical fiction. Based loosely on the era of Alexander's Successors. From the author of The War God's Men.
_________________________________
REVIEW
"And when the author promises unforgettable characters, non-stop action, romance, and intrigue, he most certainly delivers. The Blood Gate engages the reader quickly from the beginning and transports them into a world of war and treachery. A definite 5 stars out of 5.
"This may be my shortest review, but there is a limit to the number of ways I can say this book was awesome—go read it."
Erica Woolridge, Sift Book Reviews
_________________________________
EXCERPT
They came upon the two dead men just after dawn. They had not made it far. The Sarians had left their bodies for the sandrunners and the scavengers huddled round them as though at a feeding trough. Of the one, Hurrus could see nothing but a pair of sandaled feet protruding from the mass of scaly, green-backed lizards. Of the other, he saw rather too much. He felt his stomach lurch.
"Deon…" Hurrus said.
Deon rode down the slope. One of the sandrunners popped its head above the others and stared at him, its big round yellow eyes as piercing as a bird's.
"A madness must have seized them," Xandros muttered.
"They were attempting to desert to the Sarians. To the Sarians." Hurrus said in disbelief.
"It is thirst that drives them."
Others had stolen away into the desert to die quietly. These had died anything but quietly. The Sarians had tortured them through most of the night. The entire camp had heard them screaming. After that, it had been the constant yipping and squawking of animals - sandrunners, foxes and hyenas. Some of the men said they were not desert beasts at all but the Sarians themselves, creeping up onto the dunes to imitate the creatures of the Eastern Desert, trying to unnerve the soldiers. Others said they were the jackal-headed minions of Hathor, companions of the dead. In either case, fatigue and fear could now be added to the list of the soldiers' woes.
Deon approached the creatures and began waving his arms. The sandrunners scattered, revealing bodies that had been stripped of flesh and meat to their bones. Hurrus sent five more men down to help Deon conceal the corpses. "I don't want the men to see them," he said. The sandrunners had not retreated far. Peering out from behind bushes and out of hollows in the ground, they watched the men dragging the bodies away. Sandrunners were their constant companions now. A man could not stagger off to relieve himself without flushing them from rocks and bristling shrubs.
"Some of our men would count these lucky," Xandros said. "For them, their torment is over."
"These two unfortunates were Tepes' men, not mine," Hurrus said.
"All men suffer," said Xandros.
Hurrus turned back. He had called a halt to the march and his men sat in exhaustion in the road. Horses grazed among the shrubs and grasses that sprouted on the hillsides.
