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Epilogue

  It is Landing Day. I am drunk, on ale, on optimism, on life. This night restored in me my faith. It reminded me why I have come to this inhospitable place, and burdened my wife and son with a life so cold and bleak as this.

  We lived. Sibbe had invited Anna and a young man named Linden. Hjorvarth and the other boy, Engli, had played the day away and fallen asleep by the fire. The four of us had gathered by the hearth with the sleeping children.

  Anna and Linden sat enraptured as I recounted my discovery of the Dwarven Treasure Horde. When I was finished, as we laughed, as Linden stole the kiss from Anna that he had waited all night for, I looked across at my wife, my beautiful wife, and I saw in her eyes, for just a moment, a look of deep content and happiness. She had loved me for that moment, as she used to, and then I watched as her fear and doubts manifested.

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  She remembered her illness. She remembered that this wouldn’t last, not the night, but me. Who I was pretending to be. If only she understood that this was all for her.

  It is all for her.

  I will find the Hall of Hrothgar, and I will live that night again. I will save Sibbe. I will save my wife. I will not let her die.

  I will live a life where I see love in her eyes. I hope one day my son will come to love me as well.

  THE END

  Now just over 800 pages, and well clear of 200,000 words, War for Horvorr took me a while to write. Having reviewed and revised the story several times, I also know it takes a while to read as well. So when I say thanks for reading, I very much appreciate your time. And I hope that you enjoyed reading War for Horvorr.

  I'd love a review, positive or negative, from anyone who has read this far, as getting any feedback for an Epic Fantasy novel is quite difficult. So I'd be grateful to know what readers think.

  Isleif's story may be over. But Hoarfrost Heroes will continue in September with City of Stone, as (the title might suggest) the survivors from Horvorr travel to the ancient city of Timilir. Until then, I'll finish with an excerpt from Chapter 20 of War for Horvorr:

  


  “We’ll need to eat first, of course.” The Salt Sage set the golden bottle on the table. “And we’ll have a drink too.” He upturned his gloved palms. “I’m afraid this isn’t a quick explanation. Things are never simple with King Rubinold or Jarl Thrand. Not to mention that charmer, Smiler. Kobold politics and human depravity.”

  Sam stared. “And am I supposed to know what any of that means?”

  Isleif’s hands drew idle on the harp. “A kobold is like a giant rat,” he explained, setting the instrument on the ground. “They have such beady eyes, you know, and snouts for sniffing out tubers.” He chuckled and the Salt Sage added to the laughter as if they were the oldest of friends.

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