Jango (Noble Warriors Series #2)


Seeker, Morning Star, and the Wildman return in this gripping sequel to Seeker and discover that the mysterious warrior sect they were so desperate to join is not what it appeared to be. Deeply disillusioned, the three escape and head off on quests they think are separate but soon become intertwined—and desperately life threatening. Fortunately, they have acquired the remarkable physical skills of the Noble Warriors, for they are certainly going to need them. The mighty warlord of the Orlan nation is ...

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Jango: Book Two of the Noble Warriors

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Seeker, Morning Star, and the Wildman return in this gripping sequel to Seeker and discover that the mysterious warrior sect they were so desperate to join is not what it appeared to be. Deeply disillusioned, the three escape and head off on quests they think are separate but soon become intertwined—and desperately life threatening. Fortunately, they have acquired the remarkable physical skills of the Noble Warriors, for they are certainly going to need them. The mighty warlord of the Orlan nation is gathering his forces and has vowed to destroy Anacrea—and everything and everyone that crosses his path. 
Includes a teaser to the third book in the sequence, Noman.

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Editorial Reviews

Kirkus Reviews
Three teen heroes of Seeker (2006) leave the Nomana within days of each other. Wildman dives off a cliff to escape punishment; Morning Star accompanies Seeker to follow Wildman; Seeker, betrayed by someone in the Nomana community, leaves to find his nemeses and kill them. All three struggle with betrayal and self-doubt, and their reactions to this show both the strengths and weaknesses of their characters. Nicholson's episodic structure tells the story of the Nomana exiles as well as introducing new characters, both attractive and not. There is a feeling of circularity: Seeker leaves the home he loves to return later to save it; Wildman leaves to escape being stripped of his personality and memories only to return to the Spikers, his original people. There are many mysteries: the role played by an old man named Jango, the nature of the Nomanas' enemies, the Savanters and the nature of the Nomana god. This splendid read will both satisfy and tantalize lovers of the first book and send newly introduced readers to look for it. (Fantasy. 12-15)
From the Publisher
reviews tk
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9788466636933
  • Publisher: Ediciones B
  • Publication date: 4/1/2008
  • Language: Spanish
  • Series: Noble Warriors Series , #2
  • Edition description: Spanish-language Edition
  • Pages: 336
  • Product dimensions: 6.10 (w) x 9.10 (h) x 1.10 (d)

Meet the Author

WILLIAM NICHOLSON is the author of the acclaimed Wind on Fire trilogy as well as the screenplays for Gladiator and Shadowlands. He lives in Sussex, England. www.williamnicholson.co.uk

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Read an Excerpt


Book Two of the Noble Warriors
By Nicholson, William

Harcourt Children's Books

Copyright © 2007 Nicholson, William
All right reserved.

The Secret Skill
SEEKER ADOPTED THE COMBAT STANCE KNOWN AS THE Tranquil Alert: feet a pace apart and flat on the ground, arms loose at his sides, head erect, balanced and steady. He softened the focus of his gaze so that his eyes became sensitive to the smallest movement. He calmed his breathing until his breaths were slow and even. For a single brief moment he attended to the feelings in his bare feet: the prick of grit on the worn pavers, the slickness of water on stone.
 A chill winter rain was falling steadily from the gray sky. It soaked into his hair and his tunic and formed puddles among the loose stones of the courtyard.
 He heard his teacher's intake of breath and knew he was about to be given the first command. He exhaled a single long slow breath and slid into the attack stance called the Hammer and Nail. Two fingers of his right hand were the nail, tingling and still by his side. The entire combined force of his being, which his teachers called "the lir," was the hammer. He had chosen his weapon and his initiating strike.
 "Pay respect!"
 The scratchy voice came from his combat teacher, a short middle-aged Noma with a sleepy face. All his features--his eyebrows, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth--seemed to droop downwards, and his heavily lidded eyes were half closed. However, as Seeker well knew, he was far fromsleepy.
 Obediently Seeker bowed, first his upper body from the waist, then his head: paying respect. Only as he straightened up did he allow himself to see his opponent, standing a pace away from him in the rainy courtyard, beneath the shadow of the high dome of the Nom.
 It was the Wildman: his friend and fellow novice, and the only one of their group of eight he had never yet defeated. In the course of nine months of training, during which Seeker had felt his body grow strong and the lir flow to his command, he and the Wildman had met in combat fourteen times, and he had lost every bout. He had never yet, facing the Wildman, achieved that sudden overwhelming strike which breaks the opponent's guard and shatters his concentration. With Jobal he could do it, and with Felice, but never with the Wildman.
 His friend was now also straightening up from the respect. Their eyes met, unseeing as strangers. Seeker tracked for clues over the Wildman's beautiful rain-streaked face.
 The throat. He'll strike for my throat.
 It was the Wildman's usual move. But he was so fast and so strong that knowing it was coming was not enough. Seeker's mind moved smoothly and rapidly, using the few seconds now left to him. When the teacher gave the second command, the combat would begin. It would last for one, or two, or possibly three strikes--no more. Trained Nomana did not require lengthy bouts. Each fighter had at his disposal a single devastating blow, the blow into which his lir was concentrated, like the force of a great river funneled into a narrow jet. If this win-all or lose-all blow was struck too soon, or fell wide, the fight was lost. Timing was all.
  Seeker's web of feelings, instincts, and thoughts fused into a single bright blade of decision. Roll the attack, play the riposte, follow with the kill. His plan formed, he let his entire body hang loose, dangle in the rain, swing in the wind.
 Don't think. Never think.
 React into action.
 Meet your plan like a stranger.
 Surprise yourself.
 So much teaching. So much training. "Know everything and then forget everything," their teacher told them.
 To one side stood the line of silent novices, watching the combat that was about to begin. Morning Star, third in line, watched like the rest, hands clasped before her, silent in the rain. A thought flickered in Seeker's brain.
 Who does she want to win? Me, or the Wildman?
 On the other side rose the stone pillars of the cloister, and beyond, the great outer wall of the Nom. Slots pierced this wall at intervals, and through the slots could be glimpsed the sea, stretching away, horizonless, into the iron gray sky.
 The voice of the combat teacher sounded as if from far off.
 The Wildman struck first, for the throat, as Seeker had guessed. Seeker swayed back, outreaching the strike hand, and stabbed at the crook of the attacking arm, but only playing the riposte. If the Wildman went for the kill now, Seeker knew he would break him.
 No time to hesitate. On he flowed, pouring his lir into the about-to-be-launched strike, begging the Wildman to make his throw now, at the bait moment, when he seemed so vulnerable, on the second strike, which had always been the Wildman's strike of choice.
 But not today. With dismay Seeker realized he had committed, and the Wildman had not. His timing was off. In his frustration Seeker lost perfect concentration and felt the lir spreading from the two speeding fingers over his right hand and up his arm, dissipating his force. His blow powered through, hammer on nail, and caught the Wildman's left shoulder, rocking him back, but it was not enough to break him.
 At once Seeker sucked back what lir was left and locked himself to the ground, but even as he did so the Wildman struck, the heel of his hand to Seeker's brow: the kill blow. Not all his power was in the strike, of course. Seeker was not killed. But he was broken.
 He fell as he must, crippled by pure force and by shame. The Wildman had pulled his blow and had still broken him. The impact of the wave of power rippled from his stunned brow all the way down to his stomach, making him want to retch.
 The teacher called the moves as if nothing of any significance had taken place. Seeker rose and bowed, a little shakily, and resumed his place in the line of silent novices, as did the Wildman. They stood still, hands clasped before them, maintaining the rigid discipline that had been drilled into them.
 Their sleepy-eyed teacher now proceeded with the analysis, dabbing at his wet head with one end of his badan. His name was Chance.
 "What did he do wrong? You."
 He pointed at Morning Star.
 "He committed too soon," said Morning Star.
 "Could he have done otherwise?"
 "Yes," said Morning Star softly, glancing towards Seeker. "He could have waited. But he knew his opponent had the longer reach. His decision to attempt a first-strike win was sound."
 "Therefore predictable."
 "Yes, Teacher." The teacher nodded, then raising his hands above his head, he clapped twice. This was the signal for a break. The novices retreated into the shelter of the cloister--all but the Wildman, who stood apart from the rest, by one of the slots in the wall that looked out over the sea.
 Morning Star came to Seeker's side. The last nine months had changed her greatly, as it had changed them all. In appearance she was the same, with her round face and her little button of a nose and her gentle blue eyes; but she seemed to Seeker to have grown older and more serious. Seeker found himself admiring her more each day.
 "Almost won that time," she said.
 "What do you call someone who almost won?"
 He grinned. This was what made him feel so close to Morning Star. Their minds worked the same way.
 But her attention was directed to the Wildman.
 "Look at him," she said. "He doesn't smile any more. Why is he so unhappy?"
 "Is he unhappy?"
 Morning Star turned reproachful eyes on him.
 "You hadn't noticed?"
 "I don't see people's colors like you."
 "Yes, he's unhappy."
 Seeker had noticed how silent his friend had grown and how he liked to stand apart from the rest, but he had put that down to the training. Before all else, the Nomana were taught the art of stillness. Now that Morning Star voiced her concern, he saw that she was right, and was angry with himself for not having seen it before.
 "I'll talk to him."
 Seeker crossed the courtyard in the rain and touched his friend lightly on the arm.
 "You win again," he said. "But I'll have you one day."
 He wanted him to feel some pleasure in his victory.
 The Wildman turned and looked at Seeker. It was clear from his face that he hadn't heard him. He gave an indifferent shrug.
 "Yes," he said. "Why not?"
 "They're saying you could be the best warrior ever."
 "Are they?"
 He shook his long golden hair, now dark with rain, and looked up at the high dome of the Nom. On the far side of the dome, invisible from this courtyard, lay the silver-walled enclosure called the Garden. In the Garden, at the heart of the great castle-monastery, lived the god of many names: the All and Only, the Always and Everywhere, the Reason and the Goal.
 Seeker followed his friend's gaze, and he thought he understood. He knew how fervently the Wildman longed to enter the Garden. There, he had been told, he would find peace.
 "You're tired of waiting, aren't you?"
 "One day soon," said the Wildman.
 "When we're ready."
 "I'm ready now."
Copyright 2006 William Nicholson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be submitted online at www.harcourt.com/contact or mailed to the following address: Permissions Department, Harcourt, Inc., 6277 Sea Harbor Drive, Orlando, Florida 32887-6777.


Excerpted from Jango by Nicholson, William Copyright © 2007 by Nicholson, William. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Table of Contents

The Nomana Catechism 1
THE FIRST STAGE: learning 3
 1 The Secret Skill 5
 2 In the Glimmen 23
 3 The Shadow of Noman 43
 4 Blood and Ashes 59
 5 Nothing Lasts 79
 6 The Flying Onion 100
 7 Power without Limits 112
 8 Learning to Ride 128
THE SECOND STAGE: seeking 143
 9 Back from the Dead 145
 10 The Lords of Wisdom 162
 11 Kneeling and Standing 177
 12 Knock Me Down! 195
 13 The Jagga 211
 14 The Whip and the Feather 233
THE THIRD STAGE: doing 247
 15 The Land Cloud 249
 16 The Door in the Wall 263
 17 Bedtime 274
 18 Preparations for War 283
 19 The Spiker Army 294
 20 Savanters 307
 21 First and Last 323
 22 Lost in Whiteness 337
 23 The Battle for the Nom 352
 24 The Traitor 362
 25 Parting 377
 26 Through the Door 395

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