3 Books by Robert Faulkner
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Overview: Robert Faulkner
I have always had a deep love of history, and in particular my own Anglo-Welsh heritage. I was one the last generations to hear the tales of my people whilst sitting in front of an open fire. Picking up my grandfather’s pint glass in both hands I sipped good British beer and heard stories about the people who made my country great. In the dancing flames I imagined myself riding into battle under the standard of the red dragon, or raising my axe as the white dragon, emblazoned upon a flag fluttered above me.
Then I grew and fell in love with the rivers and woods of this island. Like most people I had to make my way in the world. As a young man, I was encouraged not to further my education through historical studies but to follow a scientific pathway. I hold a BSc (hons) in Physical Science and a Masters in Leadership and Management.
Through my writing I hope to entertain and share a few of my thoughts.
Genre: Historical Fantasy Fiction
Penance of the Sword
A rough looking warrior, who bears the name of a great house, and rusty armour, sits in his Welsh hideaway. The sword in Roger de Baskerville’s right hand balances the bottle mead, in his left hand. Are the Baskervilles really cursed? Roger thinks so. He mourns for his wife. Sometimes, he isn’t really sure if he drinks to remember or forget. The only thing of worth left to him is his daughter. Across the border in England, Roger’s uncle, Gerard, looks back on his life, from the comfort of his keep. Gerard de Baskerville has heard of the curse placed upon his Viking ancestor too. He also feels cursed. However, his own actions rather than those of his forebears trouble his conscience. Meanwhile, in Normandy, Thomas is making quite a name for himself as a formidable fighter. His most taxing battle is against himself and his nature. In Brittany, Emma, the exiled Countess of Norfolk, contemplates her fall from grace. She is led by the example of a saint. Emma, in turn, leads her husband Ralph. A man called Priest guides them all. Eventually, they gather around a fire and form a bond. They are the Crusaders and they are about to ride into Hell. Their enemies don’t realise what is about to hit them.
Saxon Wrath
How far could you be pushed before the Saxon in you became awakened? Æsc a Saxon farmer in the 9th Century finds out how much he can tolerate before he unleashes his wrath.My characters are based on men and women of ancient descent. People who still greeted each other with the Old English welcome ‘Ow Bist’. To our enemies, we are ‘pale and stale’ or ‘hideously white’. What we really are is Anglo-Saxon. We hate no one but have just as much right to be proud of our heritage as any one else.
So, sit back, pour yourself a pint of good English ale and let me tell you a tale. This is the story of great English warriors, men and women who stood against the Vikinger.
War Crow
So, you have heard the tales of King Arthur, his noble knights and the mighty magician Merlin. I knew them by their real names: Arthnog (my brother), Myddrin ap Idwal (mad old fool), Herewald, Gareth and the rest. There were no suits of shining armour. Their hair was matted and like the rest of Celti they smelt of stale sweat and mead. I see them now sitting around a fire in an old Chieftain’s hall. Christ, they had a high opinion of themselves, crusaders to the last man. Their battle cry ‘Combrogi am Byth’ still resonates through my dreams. They fought for your people, for the land on which you stand, for your freedom.
I think back to those times often. Your ancestors could be quite an impressive bunch on their good days. The people of Britain were a varied lot: Arrogant Angles, men who kept their word even if it cost them their lives, Saxons who drank like fish but followed their comrades into hell without complaint or even comment. Oh, the Celti, what can I say about them? Well, they liked the sound of their own voices, free spirits, though some would simply call them stubborn bastards.
Your people were under attack from all sides: painted cruel Picti, slaving Irish and evil intent from a vengeful European Empire.
If that were to be the end of them, they were determined that they would end with one hell of a bang.
You may have heard of Arthur’s evil sister too. In my youth I was just a little naughty, perhaps I even indulged in the occasional orgy, even human sacrifice. But was I really that bad? I will let you decide. Listen to Herewald, he knew me better than anyone.
I must admit I like the title ‘War Crow’, I think it suits me.
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