The Book of Asus, Son of Hoshning: 1 of 3 - Counting on a Crisis

By Merrick D. Pearlstone

In the fantasy wasteland world of Hairon stands the Hairon High Security Compound: a prison holding anyone from any government in a great alliance stretching across many realms and realities. Thieves, prisoners of war and even great evil wizards are held there indefinately and usually until death. To keep them in the cells are guarded by some of the finest fighters the alliance has to offer, backed up by mazelike halls and powerful enchantments... at least that's the elite guards for the rougher sections. Low security guards are more like glorified babysitters, while the elite guards are known far and wide for their skills. Either way, nobody gets out... Until now.

A failed assassin (Asus) and a nobleman's son (Ben Lott) both find themselves in separate parts of the compound. Quickly they learn that escape is near impossible but unknown to them a 400 year old prophecy may be about to change that. It says that only 12 people would survive the day and, as heroes and villains alike make their way to the HHSC for their own reasons, the day draws near. Asus can only bide his time and seek parole and Ben is left with little other choice but pain as they both hope for disaster to befall the compound. When it does, is a little magic and a lot of luck going to be enough to get them through the day?

This is the first book of three and those three are the introduction to a much longer series, so if you want a story that's going somewhere, you want this one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Merrick D. Pearlstone
• Release date: Aug 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311056702

Merrick D. Pearlstone

Well I'm still pretty young, 23, so I don't have much of a "bio" to speak of. I think my life has been pretty dull, I'm not entirely sure... I've spent most of it lost in the worlds in my imagination.

Book preview

Series 1 - The book of Asus

Book 1 - Son of Hoshning

Part 1 - Counting on a Crisis

By Merrick D. Pearlstone

Published by Merrick Pearlstone at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 by Merrick Pearlstone

* * * * *

Future editions may include a coded guide to the relevance of the book inside my series. This guide is already made, but I don't want to overwhelm readers before they even start, especially since it's not relevant without the other books.

*****

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Prologue - Ben

Prologue - Asus

Chapter 1 – Three days to go

Chapter 2 – Six of the Twelve

Chapter 3 – Harriet’s Cue

Chapter 4 – The Birth of Bolt

Interlude - Schools of Magic

Chapter 5 – The Rageer Stalemate

Chapter 6 – The Slayer and The Traitor

Chapter 7 – Tick, Tick, Tick.

Chapter 8 – Boom

Interlude - the great families

About the Author and Other Titles

Chapter 0.

Prologue – Ben

A rough spiral staircase lined the outer edges of The Pit. It was made from wooden planks, embedded into the soil; some were broken or had come loose. There was no hand rail and if you were to slip, The Pit was a hole deeper than the eye could see. In fact, it had no bottom, just access to a castle hanging precariously from the underside of the world and suspended by unknown magic. That castle was the home of Benedict Lott, his three brothers and their father. The pit was surrounded by fertile fields for nearly a mile and then the coast cut the land into a rounded peninsula. There were few houses here; instead most of the people here had dug shelters in the edges of the pit to avoid being caught in the small nation's long running conflict. To the north a thin strip of rock and beach connected The Pit to their enemies; the country of Briffin. Aside from that the only way to access it was by sea, and today there had been a strangely thick fog hanging near the coast all morning, unnaturally stagnant.

Ben had been out to watch the sunrise, as he so often did, but he couldn't see the light on the horizon. Nor could he see the glow of the city across the bay, and this had worried him more. Fog doesn't usually get into the bay, so he'd woken a team of scouts to investigate. It was long after they had disappeared from his view that Ben realised dawn had still not arrived. Suspecting a specific kind of magic, he roused his father this time and Lord Lott agreed with Ben’s suspicions. He rallied the troops and they bolted into position. With the walls still in rubble from last season’s siege, they split into four groups each at cardinal positions two hundred yard from the pit with one of the other Lotts heading each group. Ben Lott remained with the rearguard at the top of the stairs. Ben's brothers were magical scholars and warriors, they could hold their own against entire armies, but the same could not be said for Ben. He couldn't tune his manna to the simplest of spells, no matter how many times he tried, and nobody was that good with a sword. Ben's twin short swords had been created by one of his brothers with runic enchantments that stopped magic by counteracting the manna flow, allowing him to stand up to spell casters on both attack and defence. When prepared, the youngest Lott brothers could set up powerful magical defences and conjure all manner of beasts to fight for them, but they hadn't even started casting before the Briff family dropped their spell and an eternity passed in an instant.

The sunlight had only blinded Ben for a moment but somehow, before his eyes were open, a battalion of heavy infantry wearing the Briffin colours on their armour had slipped past the front lines. There was barely time to draw his swords before Ben was caught in the fighting. If he'd had time to look, Ben could have seen his brothers wielding their favoured school of magic against their rival family, but Ben was assessing the army already attacking. Ben may have seen his father in a field to the north, fighting back the king of Briffin himself, each leader wielding a legendary weapon given to their families centuries ago. Instead Ben darted and ducked, distracted by dodging his death. Perhaps he would have seen his soldiers, falling to the ground, or fleeing past to get to their more defendable shelters in The Pit. Still, Ben swirled and spun his swords, struggling with striking speed. He might even have seen the people of his father's nation running in fear, though the armies of Briffin would never harm a civilian. But Ben was busy being beaten back by burly Briffic brutes. The assaults were coming from all sides and soon the army fighting for the Lotts was almost entirely defeated. Soon only the Lott family themselves fought on. The tacticians of Briffin must have known Ben to be the weak spot, and they were sending some of the burliest soldiers they had to offer his way. The princes of Briffin had his brothers distracted leaving Ben to deal with the army alone. Ben could have handled them if they were infantry, or cavalry. Or archers, mages, knights, assassins, and maybe even Prince Sireylus Briff, but Ben was useless at fighting heavy hitters. Under the weight of the assault the Lott soldiers at The Pit hadn't lasted long; Quickly they had been bound or knocked out and dragged into the fog... if they survived the fighting. Ben fought with grace, speed and cunning, but not enough strength to break the enemies guard. As he darted between them he managed to cut down a few enemies, maybe a dozen. He wasn't sure, he couldn't stop to check. There were attacks coming from all sides with too much force to guard against. He had to dodge what he couldn't block, but still he couldn't let his attention slip from guarding the entrance to his home.

Ben twirled and slipped between his enemies slashing with both blades as he gracefully danced around their attacks, but if he abandoned the stairs the castle had no defence. He couldn't close the gap to his brothers without leaving his post, and had they even seen that he was in danger? Step by step Ben was beaten backwards by heavy maces and battle hammers and swinging flails. As he deflected another strike Ben felt his footing change; his boot fell on creaking wood and not the soft earth and crisp grass of The Pit's southern edge. Before he could regain ground a spearman lunged at Ben while the soldier's face contorted in the mindless rage of battle. Ben slipped slyly to one side and gripping the spear between the hilts of his swords, Ben pulled the off balance attacker towards him. The spear-man tried to turn the momentum into a punch, but Ben ducked past, under his arm. Without hesitation, Ben shoved an elbow back knocking the spearman into the pit, never to land.

As Ben emerged from the act, he found a giant of a man waiting for him. There was no time to even check he was human as the potential ogre swung a claymore at waist height. Ben barely ducked and deflected the attack, even then the staggering force twisted the blade out of his left hand and threw Ben to the floor. The enemy soldier slowly raised his massive claymore above his head, as Ben flipped himself back up, struggling to find fresh footing. When the sword came down, Ben barely blocked in time with the flat of his remaining sword. His right arm buckled so he swiftly brought the left arm up in support. His knees bent with the weight of the monstrous soldier. Ben slid a foot back into a sturdier stance as his foe continued to push with all his might. Other Briffin soldiers had begun to crowd around... was the battle already lost? Still Ben stayed calm as best he could; he couldn't fight well if he were panicking and he knew it. The attacker took a step in but still Ben held the brute back at the top of the stairs to nothingness... Until the platform beneath them both snapped.

The Briffic soldier fell, dropped the blade and tried to grab for the broken edge while Ben grabbed desperately for the brute with his free hand. The edge only splintered away and they toppled inwards. The brute's eyes were wide with horror as he saw the endless fall beneath him, but Ben was still calm and still had his smarts. He kicked off of his enemy and launched back towards the edges of The Pit, but as Ben smashed through a section of the staircase he knew it wasn't enough. Sparks flew in his ever swift brain and Ben dragged an idea from them. He wasn't sure if it would work but with his speed building he knew his chance to try it wouldn't last long. Aiming his enchanted sword at a slight diagonal, he thrust the blade into the packed earth wall, slowing him, but he slammed into the wall and sharp pain in Ben's leg made his hand slip. The steps he landed on this time didn't break, but he must have broken a bone at some point. He couldn't stand and his sword was still in the wall, leaving him helpless as the armies of Briffin began to descend.

Prologue – Asus.

Deep underground, Asus, son of Hoshning, stalked along the secret passages of the Hoshning Tunnels. These smooth, ancient, stone passageways were forged by the magic of a long dead member of his assassin's order and ran all over the world of Hairon, even down into its flooded core. They had been built shortly after the start of the third era as a new hideout for the Hoshnings. Although they were hard to find, the entrances to these tunnels were easy enough to open. Navigating them was a little trickier. They had been designed to disorientate with turnings everywhere, subtle curves and gradual slopes looping you back to the start, hidden doors keeping the more important routes obscured and if you managed to start getting somewhere there were traps. Some were subtle, and would merely injure, others could kill you before you knew you had triggered them. Occasionally a brave explorer would get locked in one of the hexagonal marker rooms, and be trapped until they were found. If they were lucky they would have been found by the guards of the tunnel and taken to the Hairon High Security Compound. If they were unlucky, they would be found by Asus. It was a place to avoid unless you either had a death wish, or you knew where to go.

It was through the Hoshning tunnels, and some long standing agreements with a number of great families, that Asus had access to some of the gateways to other worlds. Most of his jobs fell in the worlds of Briffin or Nytmar and he had access to these lands most easily with one gateway actually being in the Hoshning tunnels and the other in the home of his late father's closest friend. Both worlds had major wars going on most of the time and Asus' kind of work was valuable in war, but today Asus' job was on home turf. An assassination job on Hairon was a rare event as the world was largely unpopulated, but the tunnels included many secret entrances to the great prison that Hairon was best known for. This left Asus uniquely equipped to rescue prisoners there. They say nobody had ever escaped the Hairon High Security Compound, but this can't have counted the many princes and nobles that Asus and his predecessors in the Hoshning line had rescued in the centuries since the prison's construction. The integration into the Compound of the tunnels through which Asus now jogged made it clear that these rescues were intended since the prisons creation.

The down there air was blacker than coal; Asus couldn't even see the dagger in his hand. He ran a hand along the smooth wall to guide himself and, as he passed another turning, Asus muttered the number twenty three. He was almost there so he quickened his pace, until the next turn. These tunnels were enormous, making it easy to get lost, and the traps made getting lost potentially fatal. It had been a while since he'd been here, so Asus had to stop to remember the route. G'nadd runes hex. he muttered. Twenty four left. What was the next bit? He couldn't remember, and it was taking too long. He glanced over his shoulder, worried that somebody would catch up to him. But who else would be in the Hoshning tunnels? The Lott family were scattered after the attack, it couldn't be them. They couldn't even get in alone. The G'nadd family could easily get here, but they would never risk losing their way or stumbling into a trap. Tyrannous was too wise for that mistake. Wait, Tyrannous, that was it! Asus's father had visited Tyrannous G'nadd a lot during Asus's childhood, and he'd learnt a sentence to remember the way from the last hex chamber. The name had jogged his memory.

Grey rhinos have tyrannous front legs stomping paths ahead. Asus rattled off the mnemonic device, and then paused to decode it. G'nadd runes hex, Twenty four left, he mumbled, knowing this bit already. Seven paces ahead! he accidentally shouted into the darkness. It echoed, and he worried for a moment that somebody had heard. The Briff family hadn't gotten this deep into the tunnels, but perhaps Silus was exploring now. Perhaps he was nearby. Could he even get to this area? Could he survive that far? Would he even try? Asus shook it off, these were his tunnels. Nobody would challenge him in here. He counted his seven paces ahead, rushing himself now. He couldn't be late, not for this job. Once there, he moved his hand to the opposite edge of the passageway.

In the dark, Asus groped for the steps of the ladder and began his climb. At each rung his knife tapped against the ladder ringing through the darkness; he never had mastered the basics of stealth. It was a long ascent, but eventually the assassin pulled himself to the top. He found himself on a slim ledge and searched for the doorway in the darkness. Once he'd found it, noticeable only by a slight indent in the solid stone walls, he readied himself. Through this wall was his target and, unless he was mistaken, now was the time he'd been advised by his client to arrive. He cracked his knuckles. He held the throwing knife by his ear. His empty hand rested against the smooth stone. He clicked his neck, to one side... then the other. He closed his eyes to prepare them for the sudden light he'd be assailed with in any moment and, feeling prepared at last, he pressed the invisible button.

Asus didn't hesitate for a moment or even open his eyes. He just took two strides forwards, through the space that had recently been a wall. His eyes adjusted to the light and opened just in time to see a walking stick heading right for his face. It knocked him backwards, where a helmeted guard caught him. Mr. Asus. said a heavily accented voice from his front as the assassin felt metal binding his hands at his back. We bin expectin' ya'. the unseen guard pushed the assassin to his knees, to see his attacker. This was ‘King’ Tyrannous G’nadd, the warden of the compound. He was short when he stood straight, but as usual he was hunched on his cane, leaving him face to face with Asus. He was ancient and overdressed; leathery skin adorned with shimmering jewellery, a wispy grey ponytail hanging over his gold trimmed robe and liverspots trying to hide under his absurdly small crown. There was a slight pause as Asus considered his response.

And I was expecting a G’nadd to have a more original line.

Chapter 1.

Three days to go.

The land of Hairon was named after the great mountain said to be created in a cataclysmic battle, hundreds of years ago. It was a dry wasteland with few noteworthy features and was sparsely populated at the best of times. The was no night in Hairon; as soon as one sun would set, the other would rise and the land would never get the chance to cool. Survival in the scorching heat was difficult so most civilisation there had been built in the shadow of Mount Hairon and named after it. There was the Hairon High Security Compound, where prisoners from all across the great alliance were held, the Hairon Necropolis, crawling with undead, or the great titan Hairon himself, guarding the Skai Temple from stood atop the mountain to which he had lent his name. Elsewhere you could find Trivagum castle where the Rageers staked their claim, the Hoshning tunnels where the assassins used to hide and the sea of time, frozen in the shape of an hourglass by mysterious magics. The small town of Gus had survived in the wastelands thanks to heavy use of magic to keep the soil fertile and a little tactical placement by a ridge for a few hours of shade each day. A handful of mines had been set up in various locations, although many had proven inhospitable and shut down. A few clans of wanderers roamed the deserts, mostly hoping to find a place to settle. Mostly, there was sand, stone and cracked earth.

It had been 358 years since Sleeks Folly had created this wasteland. In Nytmar and Briffin it was late autumn, but seasons hadn’t made a difference in Hairon since the jungles burnt down. As the twin suns crossed opposing horizons, a carriage rolled out through the gates of the Trivagum Castle towards the mountain. It had no windows, had nothing pulling it and had been painted jet black. To those without a full understanding of magic, the carriage