Heart’s (Mariad Short Stories Book 2)

Book Cover: Heart's  (Mariad Short Stories Book 2)

Elven love can be cruel but when it draws Alta into a siege with many possible traitors only he can save the lives of the soldiers under attack. This romance, action, tragedy and fantasy are all rolled into this second novella based in the world of Mariad.

You can find the short story Heart's Siege on the Amazon page here.


There is an eerie silence to our advance, strange to not have war chants and roars that drive us forward. Instead it feels as if we are playing a game, like children tiptoeing up to scare their friends in the night. Only this is no game and we all know the consequences, that this could be the last hour of our lives, our last breaths in the world of the living. Totally exposed we rely on the cover of darkness with the element of surprise and, despite the signalling I witnessed, I begin to believe that maybe we might just make it to the enemy’s hastily assembled stone walls.


A distinct wet thwack sounds and the man in front comes to a dead halt before collapsing to his knees. While he drops down with shocked look upon his face, I run past picking up pace. The air is suddenly alive with missiles humming a deadly note, and once or twice I almost feel the air torn in two as they come so close. There are cries and shouts that are yelled out from nowhere and everywhere.

Attack!” I roar the word out, not even considering why Isenbert hasn’t bothered to shout the charge, and yet more projectiles come too close for comfort. A young man, no more than sixteen, spins away from me as his arm is struck and the momentum takes him. More roars of defiance join mine, and then the wall is before me and I am dancing around its side.

The black bearded man who awaits lunges at me, attempting to catch me as I come around the end of the short barrier. I parry the blade, knock it to the side, and with inhuman speed my sword is slashing upwards to leave a wide gash across his chest. More are ready and waiting. One has dropped his crossbow to raise a spear, plunging it forward into a soldier’s stomach as he runs up alongside me. Blood froths from the man’s mouth as my fellow soldier tries to free himself in vain. As he is pushed aside by more attackers, I kick the spear from the enemy’s hands and bring my sword around once more to cut the killer down.

There are more now joining me, driving back the defenders who try to hold their small pocket. I stop to assess the work of Theissen’s men and, just as Steffan predicted, they have been digging. Behind this wall a sink hole has been scooped out of the ground, descending as if a giant worm had burrowed into the soil. It is this that they fight to defend but we are driving them back. Soon we shall hack away at the props that hold their work up and there will no longer be a threat to our walls. As I begin to believe that a victory tonight may just be possible, I hear the horn of an attack. And it is not ours.