The Shield of Soren (The Light And Shadow Chronicles Book 2)

Book summary

In "The Shield of Soren," young apprentice Soren, under the tutelage of legendary warrior Raven Lennox, faces an impending war with the Brotherhood of Shadow. However, his penchant for mischief leads to a catastrophic event. Now, Soren embarks on a dangerous mission into enemy territory, tasked with fulfilling an ancient prophecy. Can he protect the realm from destruction, or will the Brotherhood threaten all he holds dear?

Excerpt from The Shield of Soren

The sound of knives and forks scraping against plates was driving Soren mad. Each clink echoed around the room, making the tension all the more glaring. He shifted in his chair, unable to get comfortable, and poked at his bacon with the tip of his knife. He chased it backwards and forwards across the plate, enjoying the high-pitched squeal as it scraped across the porcelain. Eventually, a stern glare from his mother forced him to stop.

The Nitaya family sat for breakfast around the large table in the kitchen. It was the first meal they’d had together for three weeks and the first time Soren had seen his father in two. Kham might as well have been absent this time too as he sat in silence, staring into his untouched breakfast. He had barely made eye contact as they cooked and served the food and hadn’t said a word to his three children yet.

Soren and Deveron, at ten and fourteen years respectively, were old enough to accept their father’s quietness or at least to understand, even if it made Soren feel bitter and unloved. Their little sister Kellyn, however, was just five—too young to recognise that anything was wrong. She had only been a baby when their sister Freya had died. For as long as she could remember, Kham had always been distant. It wasn’t unusual for him to say nothing to her for weeks at a time. This absent parenting made Soren’s blood boil, and he wanted to scream at his father to recognise their existence.

It couldn’t be easy being the fourth husband of Callista Nienna, but there must have been some strength in him at some point or else his mother, with all her pride and determination, would never have married him. The death of Freya had hit him the hardest of all, and he hadn’t even had his wife to console him. She had been busy organising a funeral, comforting the dismayed people of Alcherys, and planning her revenge on Vincent Wilder.

After five minutes of deafening silence, Deveron spoke up in a quiet, detached voice. “So, what’s everybody up to today?”

Kellyn was straight in to the conversation. “I’m going around Sella’s house after school. She’s got a new wooden ship with all the sailors and the crew and everything. We’ll destroy that barbarian fleet!”

Deveron and Soren exchanged glances. Soren put his knife down and sat forwards in his chair. “I don’t know. That barbarian hoard is merciless. You’d better have the best soldiers on board or they’ll commandeer your ship.”

“I have!” she squealed, and her eyes widened in excitement. “The very best! I’m taking all of my soldiers round there too. I’ve got all the Children and Brotherhood figures Freya made me.”

At the mention of Freya, the room fell silent again, but Soren refused to let her name become taboo. “That’s great! You’ll do fine then. They won’t stand a chance. Freya made the best figures of all. The strongest soldiers.”

“She did! She made Mum and Dad and Raven and Vincent. All the best!”

“No…” Kham’s voice was quiet and cracked from disuse. “No. Don’t put his name in with ‘the best.’ His name has no place in our house.”

“But Vincent Wilder is one of the greatest soldiers ever known. You know that. He’s very powerful, Dad.” Kellyn’s dark eyes were wide and innocent, oblivious to the fire she was stoking.

“NO!” he shouted as he slammed his hands down on the table. “I am well aware of how powerful he is! Don’t you ever forget what that man has done to me, what he has taken from us. His name is not welcome in our house. Kellyn, you will throw that damn figure away. Today.” He angrily poked at the tabletop with a stiff finger. The cutlery rattled.

“But, Daddy…” Her little eyes started to water. “Freya made it for me. I don’t want to throw it away.”

Kham buried his head in his hands, and Callista rubbed a gentle hand across his shoulders. “Kellyn, just put the figure away, OK? Somewhere we don’t need to see it. And let’s stop talking about Freya, please. That goes for everybody.” She cast threatening glances at her three children.

Kellyn began to sob into her hands, tears running over her fingers. Deveron’s cheeks burned red. He was close to tears too, but all Soren felt was anger burning inside.

“No, Mum. We will talk about Freya. We should talk about her every day.”

His mother leant towards him and hissed, “Soren! It upsets your father.”

“I don’t care! He’s always upset. What difference does one more mention of her make? She shouldn’t be forgotten and pushed aside just because our stupid dad isn’t tough enough to handle her death!”

“Don’t be a prat, Soren,” Deveron said, shaking his head. “Dad, we know you’re sad, of course, and we don’t want to upset you more. Soren doesn’t mean to make it worse, but he does have a point. We should talk about Freya and remember her for all the good times we had with her…like when she made these figures for Kellyn. We shouldn’t just remember how she died.”

There was a heavy silence again. Soren watched as Callista poked at her breakfast, sneaking glances at his father who sat, still as stone, with his hands in his hair. Kellyn’s sobs became quieter, and she pushed her chair backwards and jumped down from the table. She ran over to Deveron and threw herself into his arms. He rubbed her back comfortingly.

With her father being so distant, Kellyn had come to look up to her big brother Deveron as a father figure. Deveron had always been caring and supportive, far more so than Soren, who was often too busy to spend time with her.

That wasn’t the only guilt building up inside Soren. He had snapped at his father and now he felt bad. “Sorry, Dad,” he muttered and then reached up and gingerly patted his father’s shoulder. Kham kept his head down but untangled one hand from his mop of dark hair and held onto Soren’s hand tightly. Now Soren felt like he could cry too.

Callista gave the tiniest hint of a smile. “I’ve got a busy few days ahead of me. It’s the memorial service at the council hall tomorrow for the local girl who died. I’ll be heading there with Kyra. As our healer, she thought she might be able to help with soothing the hearts of mourners.”

Kham slowly dragged himself out of his slump and straightened his back. He looked at his son and gave him the slightest hint of a smile before he dropped his hand.

“Mummy, will you get to burn the paper birds this week?” Kellyn asked, sitting back down at the table.

“I will, sweetie. It’s such an honour.” Callista smiled at her daughter and reached over to push a strand of dark hair from her eyes.

“Can I come?”

Callista hesitated. Soren knew she was debating whether it was wise to let her daughter see the aftermath of death.

Callista smiled at Kellyn. “Of course, baby. Come over after school.”

Kellyn gave a wide grin and started tucking back into her cold bacon and eggs. The tension eased slightly and Soren felt himself relax.

“Hey, guess what I’m doing today? After school, I’ve got a training session with Raven, and he’s bringing Deacon too! I get to train with two of the most talented fighters the Children of Light has ever seen! Isn’t that great, Dad?” Soren’s eyes flared with excitement.

Callista nodded encouragingly, but Kham said nothing. He made the briefest eye contact with Soren before glancing away. Soren knew he should let it go, but somehow he couldn’t.

“Dad? Dad? I said I was training with Raven and Deacon today.”

His father still ignored him, and Soren felt anger brewing at the back of his throat, waiting to burst out of his mouth.

“Dad!” he shouted. “Did you hear what I said?!”

Kham gave a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Soren. I just don’t like you fighting.”

“What? Why not?” Soren was hysterical and his voice rose higher and higher. “You fight! Or at least you used to fight before Freya. You can’t tell me I shouldn’t fight!”

Kham shook his head sadly. “I know I used to fight, and it didn’t do me any good, did it? I couldn’t save the people who mattered to me. Learning to fight just puts you at the forefront of all the death and suffering. It just increases the chances of you getting killed in battle.”

“Is that how you see it?” Soren pushed his chair out behind him and stood up. “You don’t care how well I’m doing? You don’t care that I am the youngest person ever to be taken on as an apprentice? That Raven himself trains me? You want me to hide away and never learn to defend myself? That’s what you did to Freya! You stopped her from learning anything. You never let her fight, and look what happened to her! If she had learnt to fight back, none of this would have happened. You say Vincent killed her, but he didn’t. You killed her by not teaching her anything!” he screamed at his father.

Ignoring the pleas from his mother and Kellyn’s sobs, Soren snatched up his bag and ran for the door. He fumbled at the lock and finally wrenched the handle open, slamming the door behind him in a huff.