Lance and Quill: Entry 9 (Chronicles)

Azalea Dabill

An Arabian Sands sweet romance with threads of mystery and adventure.

Alaina flees the wazir's rose perfume and court gardens to seek refuge with a Twilket prince in the mysterious sands of Araby. She holds disastrous choice within her forbidden love, her martial skill, and one wiser than her heart.

While her sister of hearth and salt sails for Britannia to free her from a sentence of death, Alaina must put down her quill and her healer’s bag to take up the staff of war.

If she can grow the skill to outwit a traitor, keep her prince alive, and rescue the people she brought in reach of the wazir’s vengeance, then she will be a true daughter of the sands.

For the wazir’s reach is long. Every slave who runs must be caught.
So begins a war for love, justice, and freedom.

The wazir raises an army against Faisal’s tents, revealing a traitor hidden in the Oasis of Oaths.

Alaina will prove a pawn of intrigue, the greatest traitor, and the key to their salvation or their doom.

It is a timeless war between her Prince, her heart, and his rival: one will die, one will rise, and one will change the sands forever.

Lance and Quill is a medieval fantasy adventure in the Falcon Chronicle, Bk # 1.5, taking place between Falcon Heart Bk 1 (permafree), and Falcon Flight Bk 2.
Though it can be read as a standalone book.

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Excerpt:

Alaina shivered. Her battle to accept her weaknesses, her struggle to find her place in the world—he saw that? Burn him—no, no. But he did see too much.

That place she sought was not completely shaped, nor completely known. She wet her lips. “You could live with one who—who is a pawn of peace, not born of your sands, whom no other would have? You would have the—the heart of one who is spoiled?”

“Do not call yourself so! I have Tae’s word you are not touched. Even if you had been, it would not be to your blame. That rests on Ali Ben Aidon’s head.”

Alaina’s face burned. She was a healer; she should not blush at such things. She smoothed the paper in her hand.

His voice lowered. “I would live with one who speaks truth, though it does not favor her. With one who picks battles that need fought, no matter how many lances oppose her. . . .”

“Battles ill fought, this morn,” she said. “Right words at an ill moment and ill words at the right moment.”

“You do not start a battle with me that you cannot win.” He was laughing at her again.

“Unless I must.” A smile tugged at her mouth.

“Yes.” He stepped closer and whispered, “May no battle ever separate us long.” His mouth came down on hers.

Thought fled in a warding fire of strength and understanding. The promise in his touch warmed her differently than any fire ever had. Could it be true . . .? She reached for him.

His hand folded around hers and he pulled back, leaving something hard and angular within her fingers. She held a brooch of black amber: a falcon, eyes, beak, and wings detailed in silver.

Widespread wings. . . .



Crossover: Find the Eternal, the Adventure