Searching for his long-lost father, Bransen Garibond is tricked into journeying across the Gulf of Corona to the wild lands of Vanguard, where he is pressed into service in a desperate war against the brutal Samhaist, Ancient Badden. On an Alpinadoran lake, just below Ancient Badden's magical ice castle, several societies, caught in the web of their own conflicts, are oblivious to Ancient Badden's devastating plans to destroy them. Bransen becomes the link between the wars, and if he fails, all who live on the lake will perish, and all of northern Honce will fall under the shadow of the merciless and vengeful Samhaists. The Ancient is part of the Saga of the First King, a four-book series that chronicles the early days of Corona, the same world as Salvatore’s bestselling DemonWars saga. “Salvatore excels in world-building and creating complex, introspective characters who triumph through wit and determination as well as skill in open combat.” -- Library Journal on R. A. Salvatore "Bob Salvatore always makes the most fantastic seem real. His heroes become friends we care about, and his foes fascinate." --Ed Greenwood on R. A. Salvatore “Salvatore's strongest fantasy to date. [His] potent mixture of detailed historical context, well-rounded characters (including secondary figures torn by conflicted loyalties to their church and state), brisk pacing and exciting battle scenes make for a consuming read.” -- Publishers Weekly on The Demon Apostle “Lacks nothing in pacing and well-handled battle scenes. This is his most ambitious book to date.” -- Booklist on The Demon Awakens “ Mortalis is Salvatore at his best--and even better.” -- New York Times bestselling author Michael A. Stackpole R. A. Salvatore is one of fantasy’s most popular authors, with his books frequently appearing on the New York Times bestseller list and more than 10 million copies of his books sold. He is the author of The Bear , The Dame , and The Highwayman as well as Gauntlgrym , The Legend of Drizzt books, including the Dark Elf Trilogy— Homeland , Exile , and Sojourn — and the Demon Wars series, among many others. Salvatore was born in Massachusetts, and earned a B.S. in communications and a B.A. in English from Fitchburg State College. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Diane, and their three children. Prelude He walked across the windblown ice of the glacier known as Cold’rin, its frozen surface not causing him the slightest discomfort, not even in his feet, though he wore open-toed sandals. He was Badden, Ancient Badden, leader of the Samhaists, who knew the magic of the world more intimately than any others in the world. Badden was the greatest of them; no creature alive was more connected to those magics than this man. So while he stood upon hundreds of feet of solid ice, he felt, too, the earth below that freeze, where the hot springs ran. Those very springs had led him to this place, and as he neared the edge of the glacier, the wide expanse of Alpinador opening before him, the old Samhaist trembled with excitement. He knew. He knew before he glanced down from the edge of the glacier that he had found it: Mithranidoon, the steamy lake of legend, the place where the god Samhain forsook his mortal coil and melted down into the earth, the source of all magic, the guardian of eternity. Samhain’s servant was Death, men like Badden believed, who would bring the souls to the harsh judgment of the god who suffered no fool. It was a clear morning. When Badden looked down his breath fell away from him, and many heartbeats passed before he could catch it once more. Below him was a fog-shrouded, huge, warm lake, perhaps twenty miles long and half that wide. Mithranidoon. The old man smiled at the rarely seen sight. He had found the holiest of Samhaist places and the source of his greatest magic just as his war with the Abellicans in Vanguard to the south had begun to ignite. “Dame Gwydre,” he mouthed, referring to the leader of the men of Vanguard. “You chose poorly in taking an Abellican as your lover.” He ended with a chuckle, and no aged wheeze could be detected in the voice of the strong man, however many decades had passed since his birth. Most who knew him—or knew of him, for few actually knew Badden in any real way—believed that eight full decades and part of the ninth were behind him. Ancient Badden slowly turned about to survey the area. He could feel Mithranidoon’s strength keenly now that he had confirmed the location. Mithranidoon had beaten the glacier, and her power permeated the standing ice. He could feel it in his feet. This place would serve, he thought, continuing his scan. Up here on the glacier he had easy access to the low mountain passes that would get him to the roads leading south into Vanguard. The vantage also afforded him solid defense against any advancing armies, though he recognized that no hostile army would ever get anywhere near to him. Not here, not with Mithranidoon feed