A Seat for the Rabble
I’ve written a roughly 800-page epic fantasy novel. I’m currently seeking a publisher.
Set in a world of high fantasy, A Seat for the Rabble tells the story of a kingdom on the edge of unraveling. A king dies without an heir, and in Loran, that triggers the King Trials, the ancient bloodsport that determines who will sit the symbolically important Silver Walls, castle of the First King. Only the king’s bastard son, Jason Warchild, can enter the Trials to save his family and kingdom from a circle of rivals that includes his father’s treacherous brother, a zealot who would crush the already-beleaguered Common peasants. Helped by his uncle, the infamous traitor Evan Sinclair, Jason and his politically astute sister seek the aid of mighty lords, enlightened reformers, and anyone brave enough to back a bastard for king.
As political intrigue and bloodsport consume a venal ruling elite’s attention, the threat of rebellion grows, with a class of enlightened merchants ready to take matters into their own hands for a fairer, more just realm ruled by reason—even if it means destroying the crown the victor of the Trials would wear.
Yet something else lurks on the edges, an ancient evil that would purge the world of men. It feeds on the chaos of a kingdom torn asunder by ambition, suffering, and betrayal. Only the semi-mythical Ascendant King, last heir of the First King, may contest this power, but that bloodline is lost. A boy hostage may be the key to finding the heir, the One True King of all the world, but time is short, and the nobles of Loran will have their king . . . if any survive their Trials.
Read an excerpt
I’ve recently posted nine chapters online for review.
Disclaimer: Some of this content may be NSFW. The subject matter is intended for mature audiences, as it deals with the sometimes unpleasant realities of life in the medieval ages, which helped inspire this fictional fantasy novel.
Go and tell the kings who were:
A tattered cloth shall be mended
With a thread of silver pure,
And the withered vine tended
By hands once and ever sure.
Go and tell the realms of men:
The lame shall rise, the blind see,
And the deaf hear the herald’s din
When a king wades through the sea
And comes to reign again.
Go and tell those with ears to hear:
He shall stand before the smallest mass,
Poised as the shadows circle and sneer,
For o’er man, beast, and blade of grass
The king shall rule far and near.
Go and warn the lions in their dens:
A white winter rose drips with dew
In the hearts of loyal summer men,
Watching for stars to glisten new
So one king may ascend again.
—The Ascendant King, a prophecy
Three Trials, three Wings:
Only the Worthy crown kings.
—A Common rhyme about the King Trials