Showing results for "steven c davis" in Historical Fiction

It is a time of old gods, of new beliefs and new restrictions on living. Sherewode stretches nearly from coast to coast, from the Humber in the North, to Buckingham in the South; from Willenhall in the West to Crowland, East of Ermine Street, with tendrils running all the way to Kernow, Scotland, and Wales. Everywhere Saxons and the old Ænglish are being crushed under the cruel bootheel of the Normans. Thousands of years of history is being stolen, plundered, sold off. Justice and belief are under attack, being rewritten by the Normans.

Before the Hooded. Before Hurnungaz and Wulfrun of Scarsdale and before Caerne, the Sheriff of Nottingham and the Black Bishop. William of Gisborough is a young man, serving in the King's Army, fighting in the Holy Land. He is making a name for himself as a capable and competent warrior, serving under Captain Hwitbei. He believes in the cause, in the Holy War. One night, half asleep, watching a sensuous dancer practicing her art, his rest and composure is disturbed by the arrival of a commanding brother, a servant of The Christ of the East.

In Wales, the Marcher lord Llewellyn, lord of the Sælvatici, goes hunting the white stag of his dreams. His wife has not long died and his son not long born and Llewellyn wonders where his future lies...but not everything is quite what it seems.

It is the time f Athelstan, a religious, pious warrior. He is uniting the tribes, slaughtering any who stand against him: any who don't hold his views. In Sherewode, belief in Cernunnos holds true. Sherewode is also the haunt of numerous outlaw bands and bands of Norse who've been cut off and trapped in the forest and made it their own small kingdom. Hode is the daughter of Cernunnos, hunted by his followers who want to either sacrifice her or... be intimate with the daughter of their god. All Hode wants is to live freely in Sherewode with her partner and their children.

It is a time of old gods, of new beliefs, and new restrictions on living. Sherewode stretches nearly from coast to coast, from the Humber in the north, to Buckingham in the south; from Willenhall in the west to Crowland, east of Ermine Street, with tendrils running all the way to Kernow, Scotland, and Wales. Everywhere Saxons and the old Ænglish are being crushed under the cruel bootheel of the Normans. Thousands of years of history is being stolen, plundered, sold off. Justice and belief are under attack, being rewritten by the Normans.

For years, Hurnungaz and the Hooded have defied the Sheriff of Nottingham, the Black Bishop, Paol, Archbishop Simon D’Rainault and others who have tried to govern and rule Sherewode and the towns and cities that reside within its borders. The sheriff, in particular, has become a laughing stock to other Norman lords. The Black Bishop’s plan, to build a cathedral to the Christ of the East in the heart of Sherewode, to tear out the infection of Paganism, old Gods, and old beliefs, has almost come to nothing. The sheriff is given an ultimatum by the king.