Coalition of Lions (Arthurian Sequence Series, Book 2)
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Caught between two kingdoms, Princess Goewin must balance the demands of leadership with those of her own happinessWith her own kingdom in upheaval and her vicious aunt out for blood, Goewin, princess of Britain and daughter of High King Artos, flees to the British-allied African kingdom of Aksum. There, she meets with her fianc\u00e9, Constantine, Britains ambassador to Aksum, who is next in line for the throne of Britain. But Aksum is undergoing its own political turmoil, and Goewin soon finds herself trapped between two countries, with the well-being of each at stake. When she learns of another heir to the British throne, she must handle the precarious situation with great care—for the sake of her own happiness as well as for the safety of her people.This ebook features an illustrated biography of Elizabeth Wein including rare images from the authors personal collection.
stopped the Beja tribes skirmishing over where their emeralds are sold, and curbed the banditry along the Salt Road,” he answered. “But I am most proud of this.” He undid a purse by his side and passed to me a small and shining coin. It was curiously beautiful, copper daubed with gold, a broad cross imprinted with a sunburst at its heart. “That is the new issue in bronze. I used my own tin in the minting of them. I have not enjoyed my tenure here,” Constantine confessed. “But I serve as I am
Oh, he laughed and laughed, and even Medraut turned his face aside. “Did you come from Britain to ask me this?” I thought of Priamos’s introduction to his uncle: Solomon walks among us in your wisdom. “Please excuse me,” I muttered, trying to pull my thoughts together, still on my knees. “I sent Artos my lions to seal our coalition,” Caleb said gently. “I was not going to leave them for the viceroy Ella Amida; he has no right to them. And Wazeb will have to find his own.” Then Caleb addressed
offer me this kingship?” “Not without condition.” “Of course not,” Constantine acknowledged bitterly, just as though we were battling in his study once again, as if he were composing a new set of choice words to tell me how stubborn and irrational I was, only he could not embarrass himself before the troop of imperial spearmen. “Of course not,” I agreed, temperate and composed. This was not a battle, and Constantine would see so eventually. I waited. He murmured at last, “What are your
limbs. I could not tell whether it was Priamos or Abreha. My bow was in my hand unbidden, and I set arrow upon arrow in the lion’s throat. I shot as Medraut shoots, coldly, accurately; but my bow was not strong enough to kill her outright. The man who had flung his body over Telemakos lay crouched with his narrow hands locked behind his neck, in the desperate hope that if he were attacked he would lose only his hands and not his life. The lioness stood over the man and the child for a fragment
not talk of Himyar,” Ityopis said quickly. “My fault for speaking Abreha’s name. Our mother the queen of queens will have to call me Hornbill instead of you, Priamos. Has he explained why the queen of queens names him Hornbill, Princess—” “Because I look like one,” Priamos interrupted, his heavy brow lowered ferociously. “Because his tongue will never be reined when he is nervous or excited, and lets slip a deal of nonsense that were better left unsaid.” I raised my own eyebrows. “Truly?”