I’m glad Clive didn’t change his way of writing with this new book, still using old tongue language. Clive’s style of writing draws me in, I haven’t read another author like him. I’m glad I got the paperback to read poolside as it added to the spookiness of the book, I’m surrounded by woods. Janeen had to leave her village because she had a demon in her, she stayed longer than most children with a demon in them by bewitching the villagers. She didn’t know this, but her father and a friend did. There came a day when her dad knew it was time for her to leave, she was seventeen then. I wonder if the parents know what happens to the children they send away? Luckily she has Sharman, Craith and Dwelgefa. They realize this isn’t a normal case, so the journey begins through the countryside, up rivers and through dense forest. I can visualize the countryside because the description the author writes is so clear I got the goose bumps running up my arms and legs at times. This book is full of mystery, adventure, demons and a little romance. The characters I came to look forward to being with each time I opened the book will be missed. I took the journey, felt the fear, adrenaline and faith with the characters and their creator. You should to! Clive never disappoints, I’ve read his Dica series which blew me away also. This author is one of the best story tellers of the written word. He makes maps to help you visualize the countryside he’s writing about and his drawing blow my mind. Don’t miss out, take the journey!
Ballintyne’s Epic Fantasy ‘In the Company of the Dead’
<center><h4>Only a fool crosses a god, but Ellaeva and Lyram will do anything to get what they want.</h4></center>
<center><a href=” https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/snuhyrixjy2a7xi/InTheCompanyOfTheDead_300dpi_1842x2763%20FINAL.jpg?dl=0″ rel=”attachment wp-att-3739″><img src=” https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/snuhyrixjy2a7xi/InTheCompanyOfTheDead_300dpi_1842x2763%20FINAL.jpg?dl=0″ alt=”InTheCompanyOfTheDead_300dpi_1842x2763 FINAL” width=”600″ height=”900″ class=”aligncenter size-full wp-image-3739″ /></a></center>
<p>Chosen as a five-year-old orphan to be the Left Hand of Death, Ellaeva has nothing to call her own—nothing except a desire to avenge her murdered parents. Her duties leave her no time to pursue the man responsible, until both her work and revenge lead to the same place—the lonely castle where Lyram Aharris is serving out his exile for striking his prince.<p>
<p>Lyram is third in line for the throne, and when the castle is unexpectedly besieged, he fears his prince means to remove him from contention for the crown permanently. Ellaeva’s arrival brings hope, until she reveals she has not come for the siege, but instead she hunts the castle for a hidden necromancer dedicated to the dark god of decay.</p>
<p>Within their stone prison, Ellaeva and Lyram must fight to save themselves from political machinations and clashing gods. But as the siege lengthens, the greatest threat comes from an unexpected quarter.</p></blockquote>
Only a fool would split hairs with a god, least of all the goddess of death, but Ellaeva would count herself such a fool and consider it worth it—if she could get away with it.
She leaned across the knife-scarred timber of the tavern table.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her tone even and barely loud enough to be audible over the noise of the flute and the zither. Her work on behalf of the goddess Ahura, adjudicating the small war here in Dayhl, could only be abandoned in favour of a greater threat. If she was going to chase off after the man who killed her parents, she needed to be sure her arguments stacked up. The pursuit of personal justice wouldn’t be enough.
Is it justice or revenge?
No time to worry about that now. She tugged her black hood farther down over her infamous face, even though deep shadows blanketed the common room corner. She’d chosen a table far from the tallow candles mounted in their stag-horn chandeliers. There was no point taking chances; the black hair and porcelain skin of a Tembran would be remarked here among the platinum-haired Dayhlish. Besides, someone might recognise her.
“In Ahlleyn, sure as the spring comes after winter, Holiness.” The narrow-faced man across from her grinned, baring teeth more brown than yellow. The acrid smoke from the candles didn’t cover his pungent breath.
She half-stood, making an urgent, negating gesture as she glanced around, but the hubbub of chatter from the patrons and the music covered his slip. No one even glanced their way. On the far side of the room, away from the two blazing hearths, tables were pushed aside for dancing. She dropped back into her seat, her black robes fluttering around her booted feet.
Ahlleyn lay on the other side of the continent, months of travel by horse. If her informant was right and a Rahmyrrim priest had been dispatched there, he would likely be gone long before she arrived—unless she begged a favour, but she’d not do that for a lark of her own. However, if it meant catching the man who killed her parents, well then maybe she could come up with an argument that would hold water for a god. Old grief and anger, stale from a decade or more, stirred in her gut, and her fingers curled around the edge of the table.
Releasing her grip, she reached to the inner pocket in her robes where rested the smudged charcoal drawing of a man. Hard work and luck had helped her obtain that picture of the man she believed killed her parents—a man she knew to be a priest of Rahmyr. If she decided to act against her standing orders, then she needed to be sure it was the man she was after, and that he was involved in some act heinous enough to attract her goddess’s attention.
“Did you get the name of this priest? Or his description?” An unknown number of priests served Rahmyr, but she knew six by sight—six still alive anyway.
The thin man shook his head. “Nobody mentioned. I got the impression he’s already there, or on his way leastways.”
She scowled. No way to be sure then that this was the man she wanted. Begging favours of Ahura for her personal satisfaction was a risky business, especially if she neglected her duties, and perhaps it would all be for nothing.
With one hand, she flattened the map that curled on the table between them. The patrons behind them exploded with laughter at something unheard. Ignoring the noise, she stabbed her finger at an unmarked portion of the map in the foothills of the Ahlleyn mountains. If he didn’t know who, maybe he knew the what. “There, you say? What possible interest could Rahmyr have there? There’s nothing of interest at all.”
She lowered her voice even further as she uttered the name of the goddess of decay, and glanced around again. That name spoken too loudly would bring unwanted attention. But nearly all the tavern patrons were busy whirling on the impromptu dance floor or lined up to watch the dancers, their backs to her.
The nameless man leaned forward, treating her to another stomach-clenching blast of foul breath, and touched a spot perhaps half an inch away from her finger. A tiny, unlabelled picture marked something there.
She squinted at the picture, letting his lapse slide. The image represented a holy place. There was an old shrine to Ahura somewhere in the Ahlleyn Borders, wasn’t there? And a castle built over it. “Caisteal Aingeal an Bhais.”
“That sounds like the name,” he agreed. “Never could get my mouth around them Ahlleyn words. Pink castle, I heard.”
She grunted. That was the one. “There’s still nothing there.”
Nothing of interest to Rahmyr anyway. The shrine wasn’t particularly important, and the castle held no political significance.
“What’s there,” the man said, “is Lyram Aharris.”
The premonition went through her like a blast of icy wind, stiffening her in her chair as the hand of the goddess brushed against her mind. A light caress, but from a giant, and so it sent her mind reeling. She clutched the table for support. Lyram Aharris’s reputation preceded him the length of the continent: eight years ago, at the age of twenty-seven, he’d brought an end to the centuries-long conflict between Ahlleyn and Velena through a series of brilliant military manoeuvres. He’d survived the Siege of Invergahr against near-impossible odds, brought the crown prince safely clear of the conflict, and fought the Velenese to a standstill using their own guerrilla warfare tactics against them. As a novice, she’d covered the tactics thoroughly as part of her studies. The man was a military genius. That he was third in line for the throne of Ahlleyn was the least there was to know about him—at least it was, until his king dismissed him from court. The rumours on everyone’s lips said he murdered his wife, even if no one could prove it.
<span lang=”EN-GB” style=”font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12.0pt;”> Ciara Ballintyne grew up on a steady diet of adult epic fantasy from the age of nine, leaving her with a rather confused outlook on life – she believes the good guys should always win, but knows they often don’t. She is an oxymoron; an idealistic cynic.</p>
She began her first attempts at the craft of writing in 1992, culminating in the publication of her debut work, <i>Confronting the Demon</i>, in 2013. Her first book to be published with Evolved Publishing is <i>In the Company of the Dead</i>. She holds degrees in law and accounting, and is a practising financial services lawyer. In her spare time, she speculates about taking over the world – how hard can it really be?</p>
If she could be anything, she’d choose a dragon, but if she is honest she shares more in common with Dr. Gregory House of House M.D. – both the good and the bad. She is a browncoat, a saltgunner, a Whedonite, a Sherlockian, a Ringer and a Whovian… OK, most major geek fandoms. Her alignment is chaotic good. She is an INTJ.</p>
Ciara lives in Sydney, Australia, with her husband, her two daughters, and a growing menagerie of animals that unfortunately includes no dragons.</p>
So there are books before this one in this series, I think this one stood very well all on it’s own! The author did a awesome job with the prose, characters and editing, that it rocks as one! There’s a appendix at the back to explain characters and words you’ll see thought out this series, I’m mean really! You don’t usually find those. Bravo! There’s also some of the authors short stories at the back of the book. Bravo! Now, about the story, Rami was sold to the Set when he was a boy. He learned their way, then something happened and Rami ran. He needs to find “The Book Of The Dead”so he can get rid of the evil in or around him, you see he’s having awful nightmares, he believes if he finds this book he’ll be able to get rid of give darkness within him. He meets up with a caravan and the leader takes a liking to him, so he starts traveling with them and did odd jobs. We have wizards, dragons, magic and necromancies running around in this story. Amirah ( Caravans leaders daughter) takes a liking to Rami also, she hears his night mares and wants to help him. A budding romance in the mist of all this darkness? Can Rami find the book before he’s totally taken by darkness? Take the journey with them to find out, just be careful not to head into the dark!!!