The Huntsman's Amulet (Society of the Sword Book 2)
Duncan M. Hamilton
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- Society of the Sword Trilogy Book 2 -
Alone in a foreign land, Soren must come to terms with loss and a gift that has been as much a burden as a benefit.
A long abandoned city may hold the answers he seeks about the Gift of Grace, but a lethal assassin proves that old enemies have not forgotten him.
As misfortune pulls him ever farther from an unsettled score, he finds hope in an unexpected place…
The Huntsman's Amulet follows The Tattered Banner and is the second part of the swashbuckling fantasy adventure 'Society of the Sword' trilogy.
skill behind the strike; it was intended purely to clear his path. In all the time he had practised against the drones, he had never struck at the arms, only the target points. His sword made a horrible shrieking sound as it clashed with the metal of the appendage and sent a numbing jolt and vibration into his hand, arm and shoulder. Part of him had hoped his blade, made from the very finest Telastrian steel, would cut through. The blow knocked the arm out of the way and allowed Soren to move
when his mind drifted to near delirium, part of him still kept his body moving in the right direction. However, as the day began to darken, he had still not spotted the upturned boat. He knew how quickly the first hint of sunset became the black of night on that island, and started to panic. All he could think about was being stuck on that grey, damp island, sleeping half of his life away. What made it even more terrifying was the thought that the spells that had kept the city in such
plan is to lure them back into dangerous waters that he knows. He’ll run them up on the reefs and kill them at his leisure.’ ‘And you know these reefs, and how to navigate through them safely?’ Varrisher said. ‘Who do you think piloted the Tear while he was down below with one of his wenches? Of course I know them, and if you want to get to him without ripping the arse out of your ship, you’ll need me to get you through them. Your charts barely even show the island, let alone the nasty stuff
into a low fencer’s stance that looked very practiced as his eyes widened in recognition. ‘Ah, of course. The slave who helped Ramiro Qai in the jungle. I knew I should have killed you when you were my prisoner.’ Soren had no interest in bantering with Rui, so he said nothing. ‘I will put that mistake to rights now!’ Rui said. He lunged forward and Soren parried the attack with a grinding clash of steel. He cringed at the thought of damaging his beautiful sword, but knew it was the sword he was
nondescript corridor after another and Soren was certain there was no way he would remember it all. He breathed a sigh of relief when Veyt finally told him that the tour was over and brought him to the quartermaster to pick up the things he would need. He was fitted for a crimson uniform and the various pieces of armour plating that would go on over it. The crimson cloth looked coarse, but was light, soft and extremely comfortable. The loose trousers and jersey were far more practical for the