Contents
Copywrite
Title Page
Dedication
map
Chapter-1
Chapter-2
Chapter-3
Chapter-4
Chapter-5
Chapter-6
Chapter-7
Chapter-8
Chapter-9
Chapter-10
Chapter-11
Chapter-12
Chapter-13
Chapter-14
Chapter-15
Chapter-16
Chapter-17
Chapter-18
Chapter-19
Chapter-20
Chapter-21
Chapter-22
Thank you
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Paul Summerhayes
All rights reserved.
Cover Art and Design: Infinite Imagination
http://www.infiniteimagination.com.au/
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A WARDEN BORN
Paul Summerhayes
This book is dedicated to Millie and Roy Summerhayes,
the best parents any writer could wish for.
Chapter 1
There were no dragons in the cold grey sky, as two young men walked down the snow-covered slopes of the White Cloud Mountains, toward the open plains of northern Tarmia. They were called eldon in their time, and would later be known as elves. These eldons were typical of their race, thin, pointed ears, long black hair, and grey skin. While eldon skin could vary from pale grey to darker shades, this pair of brothers had very lightly-coloured skin.
The pair had run several miles since sunrise, as they tried to put as much distance between themselves and a pack of snow wolves, and now paused to regain their breath and rest against a boulder.
“The wolves are hungry,” said the oldest brother, Finn.
“It was an unusually cold winter. Maybe they are too weak to chase down a deer,” replied Garm. Although he was three years younger, Garm was more than a head taller than his older brother—and just about everyone else. At over seven feet tall, the young eldon was the tallest person either of them had ever seen.
A wolf howl brought their brief rest to an end.
They’re close, thought Finn.
He pulled his hunting bow from his back and drew an arrow from his waist quiver. “I am tired of running. Let’s get a fur, or two,” Finn said, as he nocked an arrow into his bow string. “We can sell them in town. The heavens know we need the money.”
“What if city people don’t like furs?”
“Then we will turn these wolves into furry slippers for your overgrown feet.”
Both brothers laughed, but another howl ended their banter. Garm dropped his pack to the cold ground and grabbed his spear. Finn had joked many times that it was more like a lance, since it was as long as the lances used by the knights from their childhood stories.
They looked up the treed slope in the direction they had just come, and knew that, once the wolves found their scent, they would track them for miles. Snow wolves were large predators and they would not tire easily.
There’s one, thought Finn. He knew not to make a sound—it paid to not let his quarry know where he was.
A lone snow wolf trotted down the slope toward them. The beast was pure white in colour and as large as a small horse. Its head housed a powerful jaw and long, white teeth, which were more than capable of biting a man in two. To the brothers, it was a fearsome sight. The wolf’s nose searched the ground as it came, tracking its prey. It wove between the pine trees and rocks as it narrowed in on them.
Hell! That beast is massive!
The snow wolf stopped and raised its nose to the air. It knew they were close and sought their scent.
Come on. A little closer.
Finn raised his bow and drew the arrow back to his cheek. From the corner of his eye, he could see Garm lift his spear into a throwing position. They might have had the element of surprise, but they would have only one chance to kill the animal. The wolf’s ears rotated, trying to catch the smallest sound on the wind.
He released his arrow with a twang, and it arched through the air, toward its intended target. The wolf heard the sound, though, and had already moved out of the arrow’s flight path. It clanged against some rocks, instead. The element of surprise was gone, and the wolf leaped down the slope and charged the brothers.
Finn grabbed another arrow from his quiver, but the wolf had covered the ground between them quickly, it was on him in a few heartbeats. He jumped out of the way just in time, and the wolf landed where he’d stood. Rolling to his feet, Finn drew his hunting knife and prepared to fight for his life.
Everything had gone wrong. The beast towered over him and he raised his weapon in defence. Finn’s vision was filled with white fur and long teeth.
This is the end.
The wolf yelped in pain and turned away from Finn, who could see a bloody patch on the wolf’s side. His brother moved backward, with his bloody spear held in front of him.
The injured wolf, maddened with pain, leapt for Garm’s throat, and, in the process, impaled itself on his spear. The weapon went deep into the wolf’s chest and it fell to the ground and thrashed for several heartbeats, before it lay still. Garm had been under it when it fell and was now buried in its white fur.
Finn ran to the wolf, and, with great effort, dragged it off his brother, who was motionless and covered in blood. “No…”
“Hey! You’re standing on my hand.”
“You’re alive?”
“Of course I’m alive.” Garm tried to sit up, but winced in pain. “It’s my leg—I think it’s broken.”
Finn removed Garm’s right boot and rolled up the leg of his pants. While his foot looked okay, there was a large, red mark and broken skin across his shin. Finn prodded it with his fingers and Garm jolted with pain.
“Well, I don’t think it’s broken, but you are going to have a serious bruise tomorrow.”
“Your arrow missed,” said Garm.
“Sorry about that.”
“At least I’m going to have great slippers for next winter!” He grinned, before wincing.
“It’s a massive snow wolf—one of the biggest I’ve seen,” said Finn. “I’ll skin it while you bandage your leg. You can’t walk into a human town, covered in blood. They might mistake you for a troll and burn you alive.”
Finn went to work on the wolf. Growing up in a mountain village had taught him much about wilderness survival, and hunting and skinning came naturally to him. He worked fast as he was unsure of how many other wolves were in the area.
Why did I miss that shot? Garm could have died. We both could have died.
With the wolf’s pelt rolled up and pushed into a sack, the brothers gathered the rest of their possessions and headed down the slope. Garm leaned on Finn’s shoulder and used his spear for support.
“We have to get to the low country,” said Finn. “The wolves won’t follow us down there.”
In the distance, the brothers could see the walls of their destination, a human settlement. It was still many miles away, though, and their progress would be slow with Garm’s injury.
After a while, the terrain flattened into hills, and then into open plains. By midday, they had found a narrow, dirt road that led from the northern realms south, toward the more civilised parts of Tarmia. Southern Tar
mia was more populated than the north, and it was where many large cities and the capital, Andar, were located.
The brothers progressed a little more quickly along the road. It was still hard for Garm, and he winched often, as pain shot up his leg. He never complained, though.
By time the brothers reached the town’s northern gate, it was late afternoon. Like most towns, Freewater was surrounded by a palisade to protect its citizens from external threats. Even the brothers’ small home village of Third Peak was surrounded by one. The threat of orc raids, snow wolves, and other beasts that tried to eat the villagers made this protection necessary.
“You do remember what mother said, don’t you?” asked Finn.
“What was that?”
“‘Keep out of trouble.’”
“That’s easy,” replied Garm.
“We’ll see. I guess there is a first time for everything. Come on, let’s find you a healer.”
Without hesitation, they walked through the gates and sampled their first taste of human civilization. The small town looked like a mighty city to the young mountain men.
“There are so many people here,” said Finn, “and some of these buildings are two or three stories high.” This is so much bigger than our village!
“I am not sure if I will like it here. People are staring at us,” Garm added.
“It’s your imagination. I am sure every town has a seven-foot eldon limping about.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“My dear brother, you are going to stick out wherever you are. People will always stare.”
“They didn’t in our village.”
“Yeah, they did. You just didn’t notice,” Finn smiled.”
“Let’s get some food. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Finn laughed.
“We’ve travelled far today. All I want is half a roast pig and an apple.”
“An apple?”
“It’s healthy.”
Both brothers looked at each other and then burst into laughter.
The town was full of unfamiliar noises and smells, for the eldons. Their small village contained a dozen log cabins perched on the side of the White Cloud Mountains, where the villagers spent their days hunting, trapping, and trying to keep warm. Village life was simple, but Finn had wanted more. The brothers desired adventure.
Many of the humans they passed stared and whispered. The brothers were obviously an oddity.
Finn voiced his observation. “You’re right, everyone is staring at us. Maybe there are no eldon here, so be on your best behaviour.”
“Aren’t I always, brother?”
“No, you’re not. Remember, that’s one of the reasons we had to leave home.”
Garm could only grin, he knew Finn was right.
A two-story building not far from the Freewater’s northern gate displayed a sign with a hand holding a three-leafed branch, a healer’s sign.
Finn helped Garm up the few steps to the front door and knocked. An attractive, middle-aged woman wearing a white apron opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“My brother is hurt,” said Finn. “Can you help him?”
“Come in and I’ll have a look.” She opened the door wide, and the brothers entered.
The room they followed her into was cluttered with items of all different types and sizes. Dry herbs hung from pegs in the walls and coloured bottles covered a long bench in the room’s centre. Thick books filled a rickety bookshelf along the wall opposite the front door, and the room felt cosy. It was brightly lit by several oil lamps, and there was an odd, but not unpleasant smell that lingered in the air.
“Sit down, boys,” she motioned to two chairs near a window. “I am Eloise. What can I do for you?”
“I had a small mishap in the mountains this morning and busted my leg,” said Garm. He rolled up is pants and exposed a dark bruise and cut. Eloise checked for the seriousness of the injury by touching his skin, as Garm clenched his teeth.
“Sit still.” She picked up a blue bottle from the bench, as well as some white cloth, and poured a thick substance on the bruise. She covered it with the white cloth and tied it in place.
“What is it?” asked Garm.
“It’s honey from the southern emperor bee.”
“Honey?”
“Yes. Not many people know of the healing properties of honey, but I swear by it.”
“What do we owe you?” asked Finn, when she had finished her work.
“I don’t charge visitors to town. Besides, I can spare the honey. Try to keep your weight off of it for a few days.”
The brothers thanked her and, after asking for directions to the market, left the healer to find food.
The market was at the centre of the town and was almost as big as their whole village.
They walked past a few stalls in search of food, when a friendly-looking merchant grabbed Finn’s arm.
“Are you interested in some quality cloth, young sirs?” asked the fat, rosy-cheeked merchant. Finn declined the offer, but the merchant followed them. “What about a gift for a young lady? It would impress her.”
“Aren’t I impressive enough?” asked Garm, who stood a little straighter.
“Well… yes,” said merchant as he watched them go.
Garm leaned on his spear as he limped through the small market crowd. People seem to melt out of his way. They stopped in front of a food stall and looked at the tasty morsels on display. “Roast pig on a stick. My favourite!” said Garm. Upon their request, the merchant accommodated his two customers and handed over three steaming pork skewers—two were for Garm.
The brothers watched the locals go about their business as they ate their food. It appeared that Freewater, as they’d guessed, was populated mainly with humans. There were a few dwarves and a gnome merchant, but they saw no other eldon.
Well, it looks like the villagers were right, we will stand out here. Finn knew they had to be careful.
Garm had finished his two pork skewers, but he looked like he was still hungry.
“We better find somewhere to stay for tonight,” said Finn. “How about you find us an inn, and I will ask the merchants about work before they close for the day.”
Garm complained, but Finn explained that no one would hire a lame eldon. After his brother left the market, Finn approached a few of the merchants to ask if they needed any workers. They all said no—after looking him up and down.
I am being judged, he realised. This is going to be harder than I thought. I guess we just look too different to the humans.
Finn came to the last merchant, a fat man selling baked goods. He asked if he was in need of a strong assistant. The balding merchant looked at the eldon and replied, “Not today.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“No. Not tomorrow, either.”
He thanked the man and sullenly went in search of his brother. Finn knew they could try tomorrow, but no work meant no money, and no money meant they’d have to go back home.
The sun had sunk below the town walls and the daylight had faded when Finn bumped into a young man. The eldon dropped his bow, and a few arrows fell out of his quiver.
“Sorry,” said Finn.
“That's okay. No harm done,” said the blonde man. “Let me help you with your gear.”
Finn bent down to retrieve his arrows, when a solid punch connected with the side of his face and knocked him to the ground. He was dazed for a few moments and sprawled on the ground. When he tried to rise, a boot roughly pushed him back down.
“Stay in the muck where you belong, eldon scum!”
“Hit him again, Kirk,” said another voice. Four men stood over him.
Chapter 2
Finn raised a hand, as the blonde man, Kirk, kicked him in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of him and he fought for breath. It felt like his last meal was about to vacate his body.
The four young men laughed at him. That’s when one of them crashed to the
ground beside Finn. He smiled. These boys are in for a shock.
Finn looked up to see Garm towering over the remaining three. They had taken a few steps back, unsure of what to do as they had never seen a seven-foot tall eldon before.
Kirk moved toward Garm, but his two friends hesitated. The tall eldon stepped in and swung a massive hay-maker. Garm’s fist connected with Kirk’s chin, lifting the blonde man off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground beside his fallen friend.
The two remaining thugs weighed their options, two were down and Finn was on his feet again. Their odds didn’t look good.
“What have we got here?” asked a deep voice behind the two brothers. They turned to see an old, white-haired man wearing a faded, green cloak. One of his weathered hands rested on a worn sword hilt protruding through the opening of his cloak. The old man addressed the thugs, “You boys better get those two out of here, before I lock you all up.”
In silence, the two young men helped their friends to their feet and all four limped down the street.
“Sir, we didn’t start this,” Finn said.
“Relax, I believe you. You better come with me and get that busted lip cleaned.”
“Sir, who are you?” asked Finn.
“I am Jonas Kalher. Warden Kalher, to the folks around here,” he said with a grin.
Warden Kalher led the brothers through town to a small, wooden building near the southern gate. They had now walked from one side of town to the other.
So much for fitting in—we’re already off to a bad start.
The buildings on the southern end of town were mostly single-story and looked to be more poorly maintained than the ones in the north. Some looked deserted.
Kalher took them to a small cottage with a low porch in front. From the outside, the building looked abandoned. It was located opposite a stable and a blacksmith and the area smelled of livestock, which reminded Finn of his home. In the winter, on the high mountains, the village animals were housed in small stables attached to the houses. The fireplaces were ablaze all day and night to keep both eldon and beast warm and alive during the coldest winter.
A Warden Born Page 1
