
The Black Wizard

This is the seventh book in an eight book fantasy series. The 7th novel is now available on Amazon and is free via Kindle Unlimited.

Back of book cover
In her darkest days, Brodia is cut off from her magic and must endure hourly beatings as she watches them prepare her pyre. Should she accept an easier death or fight for freedom but risk them burning her alive? Can she solve this mystery of the magic-robbing helmet before their pyre is ready? Her family already believes she died, so no one is coming to help the Green Wizard, held captive by her despised enemy.
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This prison and helmet also deny her knowledge. How is the rebellion progressing? Do they even miss her, or has the entire movement collapsed because she can’t lead them. If she cannot escape this diabolical trap, then her entire realm may be lost and her young daughter slaughtered.
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A Desperate Mama
In the fourth kingdom of planet Vosj, in the sixth year of Queen Foliana’s reign, they planned to execute Brodia before another two days could pass.
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The sun would soon set on that first day as the wind whipped the heavy shower around the huts, plastering her flimsy, yellow gown to her body. Brodia didn’t care too much about the cool rain; six years in the rain-soaked Green Valley put this squall to shame. Neither did she mind the deluge revealing her body’s curves to the yellow-sash apprentice ogling her. But she did care that the beatings hurt more on her wet flesh.
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This morning, she met her arch-enemy, Quon, the Count of Broditch and Harpin’s grand wizard. He had promised to burn her alive in two days. What were his words? Sizzle at the stake. The bastard was inhuman. He also vowed to find her five-year-old daughter to roast her alive too. Which meant Brodia had to escape from this helmet that blocked her from accessing magic.
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She glanced back from her chores. The wizard’s apprentice, little Krillip, watched her with an intensity that should chill her, except she hoped to channel his amorous thoughts into a way out of her dilemma.
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“Get on with your work,” he said, emphasizing his command with a stinging blow from the switch he carried.
Brodia returned to pulling the weeds between two dormitory buildings at the wizard’s academy. After her brief meeting with Quon this morning, he left precipitously, claiming her friend was calling him. She still didn’t understand what he meant. Had he discovered Grand Wizard Preem, her Zenii, and the father of her child? Or had he found Tresela, her little girl?
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She whispered a prayer to Amira, the mother of the Gods, that they hadn’t caught her daughter.
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She peeked behind her once again. The rain struck an invisible barrier above Krillip’s head. “You should be a kind gentleman by extending that shield to keep the drops off me,” she said, keeping her voice enticing.
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“Why? I appreciate how the rain falls on you.”
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“You like how it reveals my body. That’s what you enjoy.” Krillip didn’t respond, though his eyes were answer enough. “Well, I’d be more comfortable in my room,” she continued with a broad smile. She wished she’d been better with boys as a farm girl.
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“You look perfect out here.”
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Frustrated, she added that she had to pee, hoping to get him where she might work on a brief dalliance. It should be easy to convince him she couldn’t do it while wearing this helmet.
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“Don’t let me stop you,” he said.
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“My chamber pot’s in my room.”
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“Here’s fine. The rain will wash it away quick enough.”
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Damn the stupid boy. He was more perverted voyeur than romantic. Watching her pee wouldn’t help her. She turned her back to him. She lifted her gown to squat. One, two, then three switches brought an involuntary yelp from her.
“Face me so I can watch.”
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She twisted on the wet grass, facing the fifteen-year-old apprentice. Krillip’s body stiffened as a broad grin of anticipation split his face. She didn’t care what this boy saw as he’d never live long enough to enjoy the memory if she succeeded. She was squatting, but nothing was coming with this kid gawking at her.
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“You’re a perverted little man,” she said. “What would your Mama think of you? Would she be proud, I wonder?” He didn’t respond but kept staring at her. “I’m soaked and wish to get this smock off me. I can do that in my room.”
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“You can take it off here.”
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“Don’t be silly. The others will mock you,” she replied, trying one last time. “Wouldn’t it be better in private?”
While his eyes remained locked on her private area, she saw his mind churning as he reached a decision. “Alright,” he said, his tone descending into a squeak.
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“Krillip, what are you doing?” The voice came from behind her.
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Brodia stood as she pushed down the soggy gown. Nilom, the baby-faced brown-sash, strode past her. Darn it, she only needed another minute.
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“Nothing,” Krillip responded. But his voice told his lie like a child caught stealing the last sweet muffin.
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“I had to pee, so he was letting me,” she replied as if this was usual. “He was nice enough to let me go without whipping me.”
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“It looked like something else to me,” Nilom told her. Then, to the apprentice, he said, “Go to practice your forms. I expect to see you make the gripping fist in less than a second.” Krillip slumped off toward the hut’s entrance.
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Once the yellow-sash was gone, she asked, “Are you going to watch instead?”
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“You shouldn’t be in this rain. You’ll catch a chill. I’ll take you back to your room.”
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She didn’t think Nilom would be as gullible as Krillip. Still, she would try.
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