Showing posts with label Scythians. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scythians. Show all posts

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Trial by Fire--by KB Forrest

http://www.devinedestinies.com/trial-by-fire-8/

Back Cover:
Chief Melik of the Scythian Paralatae tribe is dead, horribly mutilated. Evil Zohak leads the warriors in accusing Atar, who must now run for his life. Atar decides to go to the great One Hundred Year Festival with his lover, the werewolf Bulliwuf. Arriving at the festival with no money, Atar joins several competitions, which have significant prizes. Atar's quest for money brings him to the attention of the evil wizard Dahaka, who first mistakes him for his long lost son. The Summons will be heard by all qualified mages at the end of the festival, but only one can be awarded the title and power of the Firestarter. Zohak and his father Dahaka plan to see to it that Atar never hears the Summons.

The shame of rejection beating down on him, Atar must still rise to face challenges, or death at the hands of a wizard.

Excerpt:
Excerpt for Trial by Fire: The night air was cool against his over-heated body. It glided over him like liquid silk. They stopped by an icy creek and lapped the water like animals. Atar had his head bent over the clear water, when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Ishria, as if knowing that it was time to rest, began to pull on grass. "I have suffered through so much, my friend," Bulliwuf said in a voice so smooth and luscious that Atar gasped. "I have seen you succeed and I have wanted to take you so many times. Do you know how hard it is for me?" He took Atar into his strong arms and pushed him against the trunk of a dark, ancient oak. "I want you now. I can't wait." Bulliwuf's silvery-blue eyes had the eerie shine of an animal. He stared into Atar's eyes and cupping his chin, he kissed him. First lightly-so lightly that it was as if a feather passed over his lips. Atar pushed against him now. He hadn't realized how much his own passion had been pent up. His hands moved over Bulliwuf's powerful body. He could feel the nakedness of the werewolf rubbing against him, and it was more than he could take. He ran eager hands through the silver hair that was soft-almost like a rich fur, but so long. His ears were hot. His whole body seemed too hot. Atar had never taken the lead in their love making, but now he moved with aggression. Bulliwuf chuckled in his deep baritone, and this excited Atar. How sweet he tasted. Atar kissed him all over, panting as his hands moved over the muscles. He knew Bulliwuf's body so well. It was as if it had just dawned upon him. He wanted nothing more, and he knew that for all of his bragging about women, that Bulliwuf only wanted him. Atar wanted to own Bulliwuf. He wanted to take him in and adore him forever. The stars shone brightly in the night sky and the air hummed with life as it had done on a night, many, many years ago. As their bodies came together and they cried out in passion, the world seemed to join with them. The cacophony of night animal sounds, the babbling of the water in the creek, even the sounds no human could hear enveloped them as Bulliwuf shared his awesome power with Atar. For that moment, Atar saw and heard things through his werewolf. The night cried out with them and pulsated with eternal life.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Historical Fiction or Fantasy? Herodotus: the Father of Lies


Some of my books are hard to classify. The Fire Series are not entirely what one might call historical fiction, and not totally fantasy either. They are set in the world Herodotus, born c. 490 BCE, the Greek historian describes as Scythia and ancient Persia. He describes Scythia as a wild place dominated by equally wild horsemen. These tribes traveled in wagons and on horseback. They were impossible to conquer because they knew the wild lands and could hide, blending into the landscape. The Persians tried, with their huge armies, to subdue the people, but they never could.

The Paralatae tribe, to which the royal brothers Zohak and Atar belong, was described as being a “royal” Scythian tribe, the descendants of the great mythical king Colaxais. Herodotus describes the Scythians as very strange because men and women enjoy equality, something very rare in his day.

Some of their habits are quite interesting. For example, they made cups out of the skulls of their defeated enemies, coating them with gold. They also made nice cloaks out of the scalps of their enemies. A warrior was very proud of such a cloak, and it grew in size as he or she fought and defeated the enemies, which were many. Enemies could be anyone they happened to meet.

In the second part of my “Fire Series,” King Melik is murdered. The ritual I describe is derived from Herodotus’ account. When a king or family member with a high standing died, a herd animal was slaughtered and its raw flesh was mixed with that of the dead human. This was passed around in a pot, and each member of the tribe would eat some of the raw flesh. The object was to recycle the person’s power back into the remaining people of the tribe.