Excerpt Sword of Tilk Book One: Worlds Apart

Birds flew overhead from one tree to the next, their songs echoing among the leaves. Yet each time a bird flew overhead, Fen started, brought his bow up to aim, then lowered it again when he realized it was only a bird.

“What are you doing?” Barbara asked him, a slight tone of agitation in her voice. She didn’t know which agitated her more, Fen’s furtive movements or the waterskins she carried again.

“Oh, just being watchful,” he said absently.

“Yeah, well, you’re being awfully jumpy about it,” she said. “Making me nervous, too.”

“Oh, sorry, Your Majesty,” Fen said with a tone of sarcasm. “I’ll try and be more calm about protecting your arse.”

“Look, buddy!” Barbara stopped until Fen’s attention was focused on her. “I’m tired. I’m hungry and I need a bath. Forgive me if I’m just a little irritable!”

“Oh, only a little!” Fen shot back. “Nothing with you is ever a little!”

“The two of you shut up and listen!” Elder said.

Fen and Barbara looked at him. The forest had become deathly silent. Not a single leaf rustled in the trees.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Barbara said barely above a whisper.

“Trust that instinct,” Fen whispered back as he took a few steps back away from Barbara. He was looking into the treetops as he did so.

“What’s going o -”

“Duck!” Fen yelled. At the same time, he lifted his bow, pulled back the arrow already notched there and shot it into the air above Barbara’s head.

Instinctively, Barbara had ducked at Fen’s command. Then looked behind her.

And wished to God she hadn’t.