His success with this series was such that he was hired to write the novelization of the movie Bram Stoker's Dracula. Main article: Empire of the East series. Main article: Books of the Swords. The Berserker stories tell about an ongoing war between humanity and the Berserkers. Saberhagen's Berserkers are self-replicating war machines programmed with one main objective: Destroy all life. After destroying both their creators and the opposing side in a long-ago galactic war, the self-replicating Berserkers have continued to wipe out all forms of life that they encounter in the Milky Way, which leads to the cooperation and coordination of most of the sentient races in major attempts to defeat them.
Humankind, although relatively new to the galactic scene, is a major player because of its aggressive nature. The series spans a large range of both time and space, and so has less plot continuity than Saberhagen's other series. More commonly recognized by his fan base for his Berserker series, Fred Saberhagen contributed this story to the series of books under the "Titan" brand label The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It was released in June Sign In Don't have an account?
Start a Wiki. Contents [ show ]. Categories :. Cancel Save. This article needs additional citations for verification. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. August May 18, Chicago , Illinois. Fantasy, Horror, Science fiction. Wikimedia Commons has media related to Fred Saberhagen. Less known are the myth-based fantasies Books of the Gods.
Fred also authored a number of non-series fantasy and science fiction novels and a great number of short stories. For more information on Fred, visit his website: www. The short winter of this land was not yet over, and the freezing rain that had been falling at sundown had turned to snow some hours ago. The hermit Gelimer was snug under blankets and skins in his lonely bed, and when the half-intelligent watchbeast came to wake him he turned over with a faint groan and tried to pull the furs up over his head.
Even before the hermit was fully awake, he knew what an awakening at this hour of such a night implied. But of course Gelimer's conscience would not have allowed him to go back to sleep when he was needed on such a night, even had the anxious beast allowed it. Three breaths after he had tried to pull the covers up, the man was sitting on the edge of his simple cot, groping for the boots that ought to be just under the foot end. He had both of his eyes open now. Its movement and the whole shape of its body suggested something between a large dog and a miniature bear.
Geelong's front paws, capable of clumsy gripping, came up in the air as the beast sat back on its haunches, and spread their digits as much as possible in the sign that the watchbeast usually employed to mean "man. I'm coming. So be it. I'm on my way. As soon as his boots were on, Gelimer rose from his cot, a strongly built man of middle size and middle age. Only a fringe of once-luxuriant dark hair remained around a pate of shiny baldness. His bearded face in the fading firelight of his hut was shedding the last traces of sleep, putting on a look of innocent determination. He hooked a stubby battle hatchet to his belt-there were dangerous beasts to be encountered on the mountainside sometimes--and grabbed up the backpack, kept always in readiness, filled with items likely to be useful in the rescuing of stranded travelers.
Then, before Gelimer went out the door, he paused momentarily to build up the fire. Warmth and light were both likely to be needed when he got back. The small house from which Gelimer presently emerged, with torch in hand, had been carved out of the interior of the stump of an enormous tree, easily five meters in diameter at head height above ground level.
From just in front of the house, the tremendous fallen trunk was still partially in view, lying with what had been its crown downslope. So that log had lain since it was felled decades ago by a great storm, and so it would probably lie, the splintered remnants of its upper branches sticking out over the gorge of the Tungri itself, until another windstorm came strong enough to send it crashing the rest of the way down. When he had last seen as freezing rain, a few hours ago, was now definitely snow, and had already produced a heavy accumulation. Gelimer grimaced under the hood of his anorak, and turned to a small lean-to shed built against the outer surface of the huge stump.
From this shelter he pulled out a sled about the size of a bathtub. After lighting ready torches that were affixed one on each side of this vehicle, he harnessed Geelong to it. All this was quickly accomplished despite the wind and snow. A moment later the powerful watchbeast sprang away, and the hermit clinging to the rear of the sled by its handgrips had to run to keep up.
The beast ignored the thin path by which the rare intentional visitor ordinarily reached the dwelling of the hermit.
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Instead it struck off climbing across the rock-strewn slope above the house. Here and there along the slope grew more big trees, dimly visible now through swirling snow, rooted in pockets of soil on the broad ledge or another. Some of these trees were of the same species as that which formed the hermit's house, though none of these still-living specimens had attained the same size. The vigorous watchbeast, anxious to do the duty it had been trained for, lumbered on, snow flying from its splayed paws.
It was on this slope that travelers were most likely to encounter difficulties, particularly when the weather and visibility were poor. A few hundred meters above the hermit's dwelling, the path from the south split into two routes, one going east and the other descending in a treacherous fashion to the west.
Fred Saberhagen Book List - FictionDB
The eastern path rejoined the riverside one a few kilometers east of and above the gorge, the two paths uniting at that point to form a better-defined way that could almost be called a road. Meanwhile the western fork came down eventually to a village on the shore of Lake Abzu, where the Tungri calmed itself after the turmoil of the gorge. The reality of the trails was much more complex than their simple goals would indicate, for in conformity with the rugged mountainside they all wound back and forth, up small slopes and down, around many boulders and the occasional tree or grove.
And all of the trails were poorly marked, if marked at all, steep and treacherous at best. At night, and in a snowstorm-- The hermit's feet, accustomed better than anyone else's to these particular rocks, slipped out from under him, and he would have fallen painfully but for his tight grip on the handles of the sled. Muttering a prayer to Ardneh to grant him speed, he pressed on, crossing a small stream upon a newly formed bridge of ice and snow. Without the aid of his beast, Gelimer could never have found the fallen man, nor, perhaps, would he have had much chance of saving him when found.
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But with Geelong to show the way the search, at least, was soon successful. The body lay motionless under a new coat of snow, in moonless, starless darkness. Gelimer turned it over with a mittened hand. The fallen stranger was of slight build, his handsome face smooth-shaven, pale in the night. His forehead was marked by a little dried--if not absolutely frozen--blood.
Even in the wind the hermit could hear that the man was still breathing, but he was not conscious at the moment. His fine coat, trimmed in light fur, and his well-made boots indicated that he was no peasant. Whoever he was, having fallen on a night like tonight, he was lucky to be still alive. Another and larger mound of snow, a little way downslope, stirred when the light of the sled's torches fell upon it.
That illumination, faint at the distance, now revealed the head and upraised neck of a fallen riding-beast, and a faint whinny came through the wind. Most likely a slip on ice, thought Gelimer, and a broken leg. Well, it was too bad, but beasts were only beasts, whereas men were men, and freezing to death would doubtless be as kind a death for a beast as having its throat slit in mercy.
The hermit was going to have all he could handle trying to save one human life tonight. The fallen man lay surrounded by sizable rocks, and it was impossible to maneuver the sled any closer to him than three or four meters.
When Gelimer lifted the hurt one, he woke up. He was still too weak to stand unaided, or even to talk to any purpose. His mouth seemed to be forming stray syllables, but the wind whipped them away, whether there was any sense in them or not. The man's eyes were open, and as soon as he realized that he was in a stranger's grip they widened briefly as if in terror.
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As if, thought the hermit, he had more fear of being caught than expectation of being rescued. But now, of course, was not the time to worry about that.
Book of Lost Swords
Weak and confused as the fellow was, still he was able to cling with a terrible strength to a strange pack or bundle, long as a man's leg, that he must have been carrying with him when he fell. It came up out of the snow with him, clamped in the crook of his right arm, and when Gelimer would have put the bundle aside, if only for a moment, to get the man into the sled, the object of his charity snarled weakly and gripped his treasure all the harder. Evidently not. Geelong, take us home! On the return trip Geelong moved less frantically, testing with his forefeet for treacherous drifts, nosing out the limits of the trail.
Once during the ride back to the house, the man who was bundled into the sled began to thrash about. He moved his arms wildly until he again managed to locate his package, which had somehow slipped momentarily from his grip. That bang on the head may have made you crazy. But take it easy now, you're in good hands. He hated to miss a chance to talk when one presented itself. You're going to make it now. The firelight within offered some guidance to the seeker, shining out in feeble chinks around the edges of the single shuttered and curtained window.