on>
BORGO PRESS SF & FANTASY BOOKS BY CHARLES NUETZEL
Adapt or Die
Conquest of Noomas (with Heidi Garrett; Noomas #3)
Dimensions
The Epic Dialogs of Mhyo
The Ersatz & The Talisman
Jungle Goddess
Lost City of the Damned
Slavegirl of Noomas (with Heidi Garrett; Noomas #2)
Slaves of Lomooro
Swordmen of Vistar
Torlo Hannis of Noomas (Noomas #1)
Tropic of Passion & Amazon Gold Fever
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2013 by Charles Nuetzel and Heidi
Garrett
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
The authors dedicate this book to one another.
INTRODUCTION
A word regarding Torlo and the Universe, in particular the planet of Noomas might be of interest. We cannot verify whether he lives in our galaxy or elsewhere. Nor can we verify his exact age or the exact dates of our previous telepathic communications with him. For the gap between universes is not based on earthly measures. Time is uncertain, distorted by space and our own perspective. We cannot compare our measures to those of Noomas. For what might be a season for us, could be a thousand years in another realm. We can say for certain that significant time has passed between Torlo Hannis’ advent on Noomas and transmissions relating Adt’s adventures with Sarleni.
We will now let Torlo Hannis take center stage.
—CHARLES NUETZEL & HEIDI GARRETT
FOREWORD
The experience is the reward.
Consider—The experiences between the beginning and the end of your journey might be more important than the actual destination.
—The Great Wizard from the Epic Dialogs of Mhyo
What I have to relate are the details of the war with the Muti Empire of Kamina, as I experienced them, and have since learned through historical records and from my surviving comrades and friends.
No war is finalized in one battle; but one battle can be dramatically pivotal to the outcome.
—Torlo Hannis
THE LEGEND
THREE MOONS OF NOOMAS
The night skies of the Northern Territories are the brightest in the entire world during seasons of the sun: a consistent truth for all times. And during the coldest of the wintry seasons, the icy white Northern Territories would be pitched into utter darkness, if it were not for the constant vigilance of the moons casting their protective luminescence upon the frozen lands.
It is said, that long before the lands were peopled, Noomas had no moons. In the times of the Pure, the world was untouched, virgin land. The pale sun shone upon the naked wilderness, bringing forth plant and animal life of great proportions. No time was recorded. A singular continuum of life burst into a happy celebration across the lands, valleys, seas, and mountains, spreading its eager blanket of energy.
Disaster struck when a great and mighty storm fumed in the celestial skies, and hurled blazing fireballs across the heavens in throbbing waves of flaming rock. They fell on all creation, crushing plant and beast alike.
The sleeping gods, Clinsol and Nosn, were jarred out of their contented slumber and looked down in shocked disbelief. What could have brought this destruction against their creation? Who had trampled the beautiful perfection of their world? Nosn hid his jealous suspicions from the beautiful Clinsol.
Slke had been peacefully resting with Nial when the tremors had rattled their world and ran immediately to the hall of the gods. Tooli, Anos and Insi plowed in, tumbling heavily over one another, ready to blame any one of the gods, for the malicious chaos. They heard whispers from hidden corners of the mind, radiating bizarre discordant melodies over their world.
Could anything so brutal be traced? Could these simple delicate vespers be the footprint of destructive forces?
The gods cried out in mourning, for this sacred place had generously provided the food and drink, the very source of life, supplied to the gods. But soon after, their sadness began to lift and fury raged among the gods. They raised their arms in anger and caused a mighty wind to blow the storm far into the abyss.
And when the danger had passed, they soared to the damaged lands, collected the remnants of the fiery boulders still burning, and flung them into the oceans. The seas boiled high upon the shores as the fireballs crashed into their depths.
When they had cooled and the waters had calmed, the gods dove deep into the oceans. Retrieving three of the largest of the boulders, they hurled them back into the skies, admonishing them to orbit around Noomas as guardians against any further catastrophes that might dare to threaten the lands. And they vowed Noomas would never suffer devastation of this magnitude ever again.
Thus the Three Moons of Noomas have remained vigilant over the planet for centuries.
With the rebirthing of their creation, they invited new seeds to be sown from beyond the heavens. And as new settlers entered the lands of the gods, they were welcomed one at a time and the land prospered and once again returned abundant joy and goodness to the gods.
—Tomes of the Ji
CHAPTER ONE
THE MESSENGER
Observe the moveable lines that bind us. Leap not over restraints, for they provide safe boundaries. Beyond them great danger garners death and destruction.
—Mighty words of the Eemel
I was shocked out of my deep sleep.
A warrior stood in the shadows of our bedroom staring down at me.
Torlo, this is Adt.
I glanced over at Youi lying there in the bed next to me, unaware in her tranquil sleep. I hadn’t disturbed her.
Once again my eyes sought the place where I thought I’d seen the dim apparition of the man.
Nothing’s there now except darkness. It’s just another annoying disruption, like so many nights of late.
I decided I’d merely had a dream about my lost friend.
The last time I had seen Adt Dorta was when we were both fighting against the Dianos and he’d been chained among the prisoners. I had cut him loose with instructions to raise an immediate revolt. Then I was lucky to have found Youi. She and I managed to steal a grav-disk and flee as Adt led the charge against the Diano enemy. That same night a ferocious storm had blown us off-course, sending Youi and me on a perilous journey, into the Noomasian deserts of the nomadic Raiders.
Lately, vivid dreams plagued me. Perhaps, recollections still surfacing from my career steeped in a violent history of warfare.
I reached for Youi.
Her warm flesh was comforting.
The dream was not.
She stirred as I stepped to the window and looked out over the palace gardens. Our spacious suite provided a broad view of Bel-loniea beyond the walls of the Proctor’s palace. I tried to clear my head. Fresh memories of Adt had been stirred up and they refused to leave me in peace.
Determined to redirect my thoughts, I stared down upon the lush pathways, and studied their intricate patterns which had been carefully laid out to form a complex labyrinth. One could