Book Title: On a Sword’s Edge
Series: The Swords of Scotland
Author: JR Tomlin
Publication Date: November 16th, 2024
Publisher: independently-published
Pages: 159
Genre: Historical Fiction / Scottish Historical Fiction
Any Triggers: Some fairly bloody fights.
On a Sword’s Edge
by J R Tomlin
Blurb:
Scotland. 1263. The scent of rain mingles with the smoke of campfires as word spreads: the Norse are coming…
As tempers rise between King Alexander and the Norse King Haakon, at the center of it all is sixteen-year-old William Douglas, a squire in service to Sir John Stewart, Lord High Steward of Scotland.
When Haakon's fearsome fleet is espied approaching Scotland's shores, carrying the greatest invasion force the Norse have ever mustered, the dread of battle settles over the land. Summoned to Ayr Castle, William joins the Scottish forces in a desperate defense. Now tasked with serving his newly knighted brother, Hugh, William has little time to dwell on the fear – or thrill – of his first real taste of war.
And once the Norse's menacing line of ships finally touches shore, Scotland's fate may rest on more than noble titles and knightly deeds— it'll take the mettle of every soul on the ground for them to triumph.
Set against the wind-swept coast of medieval Scotland, On a Sword's Edge takes you right into the center of The Battle of Largs alongside a mere – yet fearless – squire.
Buy Link:
Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/3R7l8D
Author Bio:
J. R. Tomlin is the author of more than twenty historical novels, set for the most part in Scotland. Her love of that nation is traced from the stories of King Robert the Bruce and the Good Sir James her grandmother read to her when she was small to hillwalking through the Cairngorms where the granite hills have a gorgeous red glow under the setting sun. Later, her writing was influenced by the work of authors such as Alexander Dumas, Victor Hugo, and of course, Sir Walter Scott.When JR isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time hiking, playing with her Westie, and killing monsters in computer games. In addition to having lived in Scotland, she has traveled in the US, Europe and the Pacific Rim. She now lives in Oregon in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.
Author Links:
Website: https://www.jrtomlin.com
Twitter: https://x.com/TomlinJeanne
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jrtomlin
Book Excerpt:
I kept stopping to ask if anyone knew where the Douglas tent was, at first only receiving shakes of the head. At last, a man busy closely inspecting a spear pointed to a tent some distance away. I strode in that direction and spotted our banner, so I took to a lope and shouted, “Hugh! Father!”
“William!” shouted my father, an extremely tall, well-built man with gray-streaked hair, clad in mail and a red wool cloak. “Look at you! Nearly as tall as me.” Father grabbed me by the shoulders. “I was about to come looking for you.”
I still had a few inches to reach his height. He was so tall that his friends called him ‘Longlegs.’
Then my brother punched my arm, demanding to know if I had started shaving yet.
I turned and whacked him playfully in the belly in response. “Never mind my shaving. Are you doing your duty by that bride of yours?”
He put me in a necklock, and ruffled my hair. “Of course I am, you pudding-brain.”
“Enough!” Grinning, Father grabbed both of us by the scruff of the neck and pushed us toward the tent. “Behave and come have some ale. We found some brewed just yesterday at a tavern in the town.” He gave us a good-natured shove and preceded us through the tent door. “I hear Sir John is commanding the entire army.”
Picking up a flagon from the small table, I sniffed the fruity scent of fresh ale and filled three cups. I beamed as I handed them around. “I was there when he met with the king! Menteith will lead his own men, but my lord commands all the rest.”
Hugh elbowed me. “He must trust you, then. Well done.”
Father sat on a stool, long legs sprawled. “Menteith can be a prickly man. It is because he is earl only by right of his wife.” He shrugged. “The king trusts Sir John, who was nae doubt right to placate his brother. This is nae time to have a dispute between our leaders. Sir John kens that well.”
“Aye,” I admitted. “From what he has told me, the French and the English quarrels when he was crusading taught him that. He is a good lord, too.” I had heard him talk about when he went on a crusade with the French King, but had paid more attention to when he spoke of the fighting. But Sir John was a canny man.
“I should speak to him to see how he wants our men placed. Mayhap I go when you return to his camp.”
“How does mother fare? Are things well at home?”
Hugh chuckled. “She has taken to Isabele like an osprey with a lost nestling.” He put one booted and gold-spurred foot on a stool, eyes gleaming proudly. “But a bride wasnae all I brought home from our trip to Edinburgh.”
I bent over the boot, pretending to examine them, though I knew well the king had knighted him. “You brought badly made boots?”
He pulled back his arm as though to cuff me, so I dodged backward, chortling. Of course, I knew he now wore the gold spurs of a knight.
“Dunderhead!” He grabbed me and we tussled.
“Loon face!” I shouted and punched him.
At first, as just a lad of eight, being separated had been awful. After a while, busy in my new life at Dundonald, I did not often think how much I missed them until I saw them again. Nigell and Gilbert were good friends, but I missed my brother. My father and mother too, but most of all I missed Hugh, racing our horses across the dale, stealing bannocks from the kitchen when the cook’s back was turned, and tussling at every chance we had...
“Enough, I said.” After waving us to seats, Father asked, “How many men does Lord Stewart have with him?”
“A score of knights, and fifty men-at-arms. Foot soldiers... about three score pikemen and some crossbowmen.” I propped my elbows on the table and turned my cup of ale between my palms. “He is hearty as always, but there is some argument whether he will be in sole command.”
He gave me a considering look. “How many of his squires are with him?” When I said all four of us, he nodded thoughtfully. “Since you arenae the senior, I suppose he could spare you?”
I sputtered, “Aye. But why?”
He tilted his head toward Hugh. “This young knight hasnae yet taken his own squire.” He smiled. “And it would be a fine thing to have you ride with us when we fight a battle.”
A flush prickled through my body. I had hoped to follow Sir John into battle. It would be a great honor, but Nigell was his senior squire. My lord had never said he would allow me to join the battle. But to fight beside my brother... A laugh bubbled up from my belly. What a day that would be!
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Thanks for posting an excerpt! it's very much appreciated.
Thanks so much for hosting J R Tomlin today, with an intriguing excerpt from her latest novel, On a Sword's Edge. Take care, Cathie xo The Coffee Pot Book Club