Sir Toby Belcher
*
With the vanguard of the Globotomists now fighting fervently on all fronts of the known world,
the homeland has been entrusted to the safe-hands of former men of substance and stature, a little
time-worn now, perhaps, but without doubt, staunch and doughty keepers of the faith of new science.
*
“Consternation… Consternation… Consternation,” beamed Sir Toby, “the nation is concerned.”
“Never a truer word,” sighed Teigue-the-Sage, “but don’t you think these three-fold repetitions are becoming a tad tiresome?”
“I know,” agreed Sir Toby, “but it’s the only way I can still garner any attention.”
“And attention is required, precisely why,” said Teigue?
“Because without attention one simply ceases to exist,” gasped Sir Toby!
“Then, perhaps, that kind of attention is not worth possessing,” mused Teigue.
“Possession! Possession! Who said anything about possession?”
“I didn’t need to,” said Teigue, sighing again, “It’s more than obvious from your demeanour.”
Sir Toby thought for awhile and then brightened, “Consternation… Consternation… Consternation,” he said.
***
***
SPENDYKE 1023 – Anarchy stalks the streets.
The Globotomists and the grandees of their Home Stand are closing in on the Rubicon –
that improbable haven founded thousands of years before the current madness erupted.
Our fugitive, Demos, still lurks somewhere within its crusty corridors scouring the old tomes, housed on its crumbling shelves, for an antidote to Spendyke’s most grim secret…
The Riddle of the Nine Dark Tri-Grams is key to overcoming the demon hordes that hold sway, and now run amok.
Will Demos solve his home planet’s ancient enigma, before the inevitable doom descends, or not?
Welcome, to the apocalyptic world of Cashelkeep!
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Front and Back Cover artwork by Sue Vincent
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