Roger Parkinson is an author by night and a software consultant by day, although sometimes the two are reversed. He lives with his wife (high school sweetheart) and four sheep in New Zealand in an earth brick house that looks like a Romanesque Abbey (lots of arched windows). He built most of the furniture for the house himself and so far only one piece has collapsed.
Apart from writing books he dabbles in electronics, gardening, kayaking, hiking and growing his hair.
What started as a kind of holiday, traveling through Relanor, takes an odd turn and then a sinister one. Odd because Falia and Olcish are still switching places. Sinister when Falia gets a message meant for Olcish from someone she thought was only a legend. Sheagil has unfinished business.
This is the sequel to 'The White Fox'.
Still no elves.
The cat stared up at him as though it knew all about the entry and he was being tiresome about it. Then it proceeded to have a bath, the kind of cello-playing bath one feels obliged to look away from unless one knows the cat well.
A collection of short (some very short) stories and poems, mostly about New Zealand, or cats, or sheep.
Even a privileged palace boy gets punished if he tries to sneak into the room of Tarlin's best wife.
Olcish finds himself tending smelly old people in the infirmary and being bossed about by the priestesses.
But one of the old men dies and that changes everything, sending him to the worst place in the world with little chance of coming back.
But by then he wants to go, even if it kills him.
Is Azkun an ancient hero returned to save them all or just a madman with absurd ideas about dragons? The King of Anthor has no time for ancient heroes and even less time for dragons. Old crimes are coming back to haunt him and old enemies are stirring on his borders. His last hopes may lie with Azkun, whoever he is.
This is a gritty fantasy with no elves anywhere.