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  It was agreed Fynyddwr would hand his pack to Sawwaed, and the burden would be passed around between all of the seven, in order that they might make good time. Bwyell took the lead, trudging through the heavy snow. Several times he stumbled as he stepped upon an unexpected rock or pit, but each time his armour protected him from any injury. The journey was difficult at this altitude, and all were struggling by the time the sun touched the horizon distant. There had been no places to stop, and so they dug a little into the snow and pitched their tents, piling the tailings upon the edges to weight them down and block away the wind.

  It was to be a cold, miserable night, for the altitude stripped away their ability to breath, and the chill crawled through the walls of the tent and slipped into the sleeping bags with them, and when they woke the next morning, the faces of the seven were haggard.

  The ascent to the summit would prove a struggle for them all, and as the seven explorers set off that morning, each staggered or stumbled in turn. Little sleep had combined with the altitude to render all of them somewhat dazed, and it took till mid-morning for the fog to lift from their eyes, and for them to see what truly stood before them.

  Tarranau cursed, long and loud. Sawwaed and Ceinder followed suit, and soon the air had turned blue. The reason for such consternation was before them, or rather, not before them. The ridge did not run to the summit of Gysegar Fynadid. A quarter of a mile before the great peak, the spine of the mountain stopped and plummeted downward, leaving a crevasse they would have to descend then ascend to reach the summit.

  As the seven approached the gash, their fears were confirmed, for some of the way down was sheer, and the rest was a harsh mixture of snow, ice, and scree, in which it would be the easiest thing to slip and fall. Bemoaning their foul luck, and glaring at Gysegar Fynadid for the final challenge it had put in their way, the hikers lashed a pair of ropes to a sturdy boulder, and Bwyell went over the cliff, hammer in hand. The sounds of a piton being pounded into the stone followed, as did muffled shouts of dismay when shards of rock sprayed the warrior across the face. Eventually, a call came for him to be lowered further, and Sawwaed and Tarranau eased him gently downward, until another cry came telling them to stop.

  The travellers descended in this fashion until well after luncheon, and when they reached the bottom, they struggled across to the flank of Gysegar Fynadid’s summit, and peered upwards. From where they stood, nothing could be seen but loose rock, covered in a heavy layer of snow. The ascent looked treacherous, but no cliffs stood in the way of their final journey.

  Sawwaed glanced around at the others with him, and even as he saw them readying for the final climb, he could tell they were exhausted. The thought of another night at this altitude burned at his lungs and caught at his throat, but if they went now, they would find themselves caught atop the mountain as night fell, and that would be far worse.

  He turned to the others. “We need to stop.”

  Ceinder gestured upwards. “Why stop? We’re almost there!”

  Sawwaed shook his head. “Yes, we are. But look at you. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. Fynyddwr’s been running on willpower alone since lunch. Perhaps Bwyell can make it safely, but I can’t, and so I’m going to rest until the morning, and attempt it with the dawn.”

  Tarranau nodded. “I’m with Sawwaed. I need the rest if I’m to make it to the top.”

  Ceinder glared at her husband, but said nothing.

  Atyniadol spoke up. “Ceinder, we’re all asleep on our feet. And I know the supplies are low, but better we rest now than be caught at the very top for nightfall.”

  “But we’re so close!”

  “I know, but for now Gysegar Fynadid will have to wait. Come on, let’s get the tents set and get an early night. The morning will be spectacular.”

  And it was.

  Thank you for reading this free sample of Læccan Waters by James Tallett. We here at Deepwood Publishing hope you’ve enjoyed it.

  Læccan Waters is the third book in a six book storyline, with the first book titled Tarranau and the second Chloddio. In addition to the six books of the main story line, Unfolding a New Continent is an anthology of shorter tales that surround and support the main stories.

  Læccan Waters is slated for release in the spring of 2016.

  Deepwood Publishing can be reached at [email protected]

  James Tallett is available through his website

  or via [email protected]

  About the Author

  James Tallett is the author of a six book series of fantasy novels set in The Four Part Land, the first of which was published in 2011 by Deepwood Publishing. In addition to his novel writing, he keeps up a steady stream of short stories and novellas, much of which is published online. Aside from writing, he can be found on ski slopes across the world.