Acknowledgements

 

 

All images used in this book, including the cover, have been taken from free image sources and amended and re-imagined by the author. A special thanks to deviantart.com and pixabay.com

 

 

 

THE LONG ROAD

 

 

The Long Road

They say that the sound of an argument can be heard across the valleys.

The two men walking down the valley track were having what could reasonably said to be a significant difference of opinion.

The smaller of the two travellers was waiving his arms around in frustration. His name is Tellan Ganbold, a man of normal size, perhaps thinner than some. You might say wiry, you might say fit. His tanned skin spoke of an outdoor life. His scars of other times.

A swordsman of some indeterminate age, you might think - rather battered through time. His clothes had seen better days but his weapons; a sword and dagger were cleaned and ready. “You’ve been feeding it haven’t you”

His comments were addressed to his walking companion.

His companion could only be described as a walking haystack. This is not meant to insult, but to describe. What else to best describe a man who towered a full two heads taller than Tellan, and if you were to exaggerate slightly, you could say he was twice as wide? A giant of a man would suffice. His blond hair has remained uncut for some time. Years would be a fair estimate. He wore nothing but sackcloth stitched together and dropped over his frame. Straw stuck to his mane of hair and over his limited clothing. Truly a walking haystack.

He spoke. “Hunger hurts” The voice was deep, as if a cave could speak.

His name is Totle. He may be in his early 20s; nobody knows. He carries what some might call a large staff. More accurately, it was a sizeable tree branch, thick as a man’s arm and as tall as himself.

“I know hunger hurts”. Tellan looked over at Totle, or more accurately upwards. He’d seen no one this large. It disconcerted him to find he’d positioned himself within the giant’s shadow again. The day was hot. He increased his pace to move level with Totle. “But it’s an extremely dangerous wild animal. It shouldn’t even be down in the valley. It’s a mountain creature”. ‘Mountain creature’ he thought; it could damn well go where it liked. It was a Rakes Cat, twice as large as an ox and much faster. They didn’t have to hunt exactly, just run alongside their prey and simply swat them. One blow killed, always. Villagers feared them. If you saw one in your area, you hid. If you sent out a posse of men armed to the teeth, none would return. An extremely well-nourished cat’s prints would be seen later, thankfully leaving the area.

“Injured; Pain” Totle rarely spoke, content in his own quiet way. When he did speak, it was never more than two words. Tellan knew little of Totle’s background except for what he’d gleaned on their 3 days together; since he’d rescued the giant from the villagers’ stoning.

Tellan was a soldier. Highly skilled with sword and dagger, faster than anyone had a right to be. He’d survived so many years until his last battle where a sword had run through his side and he’d sunk to the floor waiting to die. His squad had surrounded him and fought to keep him alive. A serious wound meant death by loss of blood or later by infection. Somehow, maybe just by willpower, he’d refused to die. After, a few weeks of recovery, he’d asked to be relieved of duties and was allowed to leave. His years of service were recognised and valued. He’d was allowed to keep his weapons and leather armour and given a small bag of coins to send him on his way.  He’d prevailed on the camp cook to fill his bag with food and after solemn farewells with his squad, he’d left the camp with never a look back. 

After several weeks of walking along hot and dusty tracks, always away from the fighting, he’d heard angry shouts and jeers ahead.  Smoke rising above the trees. The smell of food that made his stomach clench from hunger. The noise of cattle. A village, then. Food, rest and a soft bed, perhaps. As he rounded a bend, he saw the first people he’d seen in some time. A mob. 

A group of maybe 20 villagers circled a tethering post. Attached to the post by a neck ring was what Tellan initially thought was an animal, perhaps a bear. As he approached, he realised the tethered creature was in fact a man, a young man at that. He was covered in cuts and bruises. A few villagers were throwing rocks at the hapless captive, and others were using pitchforks to jab and taunt the man. Shouts of ‘kill him’, ‘he deserves it’ and ‘finish him’ were aimed at the men with clubs and other weapons who were tentatively circling the huge and bloodied man.

Tellan approached the nearest man. The man carried a cudgel which he was waving in the general direction of the youth in the circle. 

“What’s he done to deserve this?” Tellan asked of the cudgel wielder. The man turned around and looked Tellan up and down and then spat at the soldier’s feet. “Nearly got us all killed” was the curt reply. The captive screamed as a pitchfork found his side. “Leave me” he shouted “no more”

“Good un” said cudgel, “give him another”. Cudgel moved in closer to the victim. “But what did he actually do” Tellan persisted. “None of your grocking business” the man snarled and spat at Tellan’s feet again. Cudgel had no time to be surprised as Tellan’s foot hit the outside of his knee with an audible crack. The man fell to the ground with a yell of pain, and a stream of curses aimed at Tellan followed. The curses cut off as Tellan’s sword pressed into his neck. “Politely now” said Tellan, “what’s this boy guilty of”

The rest of the mob were still intent on harming the giant. “Go on boy, get him” one father urged his son. The young lad picked up a stone and hurled it at the captive. It was an accurate throw aimed right at the head of the chained man. The captive’s hand moved at speed and in one movement plucked the stone out of mid-air and threw it with substantial force and feeling back at his assailant. It caught the lad right in his stomach and with an audible ‘oof’ he doubled up and fell to the ground. His father raged, “see what this beast is capable of; he was trying to kill me lad. Finish him”.

The crowd, with a bravery that only mobs’ have edged closer to their captive.

“Now”, said Tellan, “Tell me what the lad did to deserve this”. His sword pushed further into cudgel’s neck.

“He tended to an injured Rakes and saved its life. He put the lot of us in mortal danger. Besides, he’s a useless waste of time”

Tellan was taken aback. A Rakes? “No one can get near a Rakes - you tell me false”. His blade cut into the thug’s neck.

“I swear, I swear”. His fear spoke to his truth. Tellan turned to the mob. “ENOUGH”. A voice of authority. A voice to ignore at your peril.

The mob stopped as one. The captive looked at Tellan. Their eyes met. An understanding passed. Tellan saw the intelligence that no one else here saw. A man of width and muscle detached himself from the mob. “Who the groc are you? And why do ye think you’ve got any say here?” He took one step closer to Tellan and raised his weapon. “Come on” he spoke to the mob. “We’ll sort this grocker out soon enough” A few more men moved forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Tellan saw the giant slowly and with obvious pain pull himself to his feet; cobbles in his hands.

Tellan’s sword point still pressed against cudgel’s throat. “Move and you die here, now” Cudgel froze. Tellan looked at the three villagers warily approaching. His experienced eye saw the poor state of their weapons, the fear in their eyes but also the bestial need to inflict pain. They held their weapons with untrained hands. These men were brawlers, not fighters. Still capable of killing him if he let them. ‘You’re dying here’ the nearest said and charged forward. He swung at Tellan’s head, or rather where it had been. Tellan had moved to his right and ducked under the intended lethal blow. His sword sliced across the thug’s side and cut deep. Tellan came up in front of a second villager and his sword tip ran through the villager’s sword wrist. As the pain hit him the villager’s sword dropped. The man stared in horror at his bleeding arm and fell on one knee to the floor. The third man was staring at Tellan with a look that said ‘this is not where I want to be’. He may have been thinking of dropping his sword when a rock of some size and intention struck him on the side of his head. He fell gently and not without style. Tellan looked over at the giant figure who stood poised with another rock in his hand and looking over Tellan’s shoulder. Cudgel had just got to his feet. “Are we finished here?” Tellan asked. Cudgel nodded, but hate still lined his face. “Release the boy - now!” One of the braver villagers moved towards the giant and producing a key unlocked the neck ring securing the boy to the wooden pillar.

“We should leave” Tellan suggested. The giant nodded and like an enormous wave walked through the crowd who shrank back to allow him to pass. “Do you need anything” Tellan asked him. “Just go”

“What’s your name, mine is Tellan”

“Totle, ”

“Got that,”. Tellan turned to the villagers. “It would be foolish to follow us”

Totle headed out of the village. Tellan followed, running to keep up with the giant’s stride.

They travelled into the night, stopping at the first stream where Totle stopped to drink and drink. Totle had been ‘lucky’. His many cuts and bruises were horrific but would heal. Nothing was broken. He had a badly swollen face and one eye half-closed. “We can rest for a couple of hours” Tellan offered. “No” Totle raised himself to his full height, which made Tellan take one step backwards. Totle grinned, albeit with a lopsided and bleeding mouth. “Must walk”

They moved off into the night.

Keeping up with Totle proved an effort for Tellan. “Giant’s strides” he muttered under his labouring breath.

“You tired” It wasn’t a question from Totle. “Water soon”

“You’ve been here before?” Tellan asked.

“No”

“Then how do you know there is water near here”

“Smell it” Totle’s puzzled look suggested that it surprised him that Tellan’s nose wasn’t working.

The giant’s nose was large, of course, pondered Tellan. ‘Bet his hearing is great as well’

They walked and then walked some more. Not a minute too soon for Tellan they rounded a bend and saw a bridge ahead, spanning a deep and fast-flowing stream. Totle walked straight into the stream, water spraying around his legs as the torrent tried to take him away. Totle removed his ragged smock and sat down in the current. The water flowed over his shoulders and head. Tellan had winced at the young man’s bloodied and bruised  back and arms.He wondered how old Totle was - maybe late teens, difficult to say. He suspected Totle might not know. “Take care” he offered to Totle. An arm waved in reply and a smile of sorts crossed the lad’s face.

Totle was ringing out his smock and forcing it back over his head and body. He arose out of the stream like some ancient water creature. Water pouring off him like a waterfall.

“Better”. Totle approached a nearby tree and broke off several branches as thick as a man’s wrist. He dragged the branches and deposited them next to Tellan, “Fire” he suggested. “Good idea, but that lot won’t light easily. We need tinder, ” Totle frowned. “Small dry twigs - easily lit” Tellan explained. Totle nodded. They both searched the immediate area and soon had a good fire going.

“I’ve little food, but you’re welcome to eat” Tellan reached into his shoulder bag and passed over some rather dry bread, even drier beef and a bruised apple. Totle gratefully accepted the offering and finished the food inside a minute. 

“When did you last eat?” Tellan enquired, passing over what was left of the bread. Total shrugged. “Sleep now”. He wandered over to the nearest tree, placed his back against the wood and fell asleep as Tellan watched.

‘Do I try to stay awake on watch?’ Tellan felt exhausted. He remembered the importance of keeping a watch. He tried to keep his eyes open. Sleep took him within minutes.

In the morning he awoke to the smell of cooking. He half sat up. Totle was cooking two fish over the fire. “How did you catch them”

Totle looked across with a grin. “Hands” he said.

“They just swam into your hands then?” Totle nodded, “Easy”

As it would take both of Tellan’s hands to span one of Totle’s, Tellan accepted the explanation. The fish were of a good size and ready to eat. Tellan had not had a decent meal for days and finished his fish off in quick time.

“Another?” the giant enquired.

“You have more?”

“Get some” Totle walked over to the stream finishing his own fish. He bent down and picked up a large rock in one hand that would have tasked Tellan using both hands. 

Totle paused on the bank. Then with one quick movement threw the rock like a pebble into the stream. The water erupted, and when it settled a large fish was floating on the top of the water. Totle scooped it up and carried it back to Tellan. 

“Raw, cooked?”

“Wrapped,” said Tellan. “We can take it with us. Oh and always cooked”

Totle found a few large leaves and covered the fish. He handed the food over to Tellan. “Bag”

The fish fitted into Tellan’s carry sack and they headed off along the road together.

“Hands indeed” said Tellan.

Totle chortled, then boomed out a laugh that made the birds lift from the trees.

“Happy” said Totle. A statement, not a question.

It surprised Tellan to find that he felt the same. It had been some time.

The weather was hot as they trudged on. No clouds. Little vegetation, occasional patches of trees offering shade. 

Totle stopped at a tree and snapped off a significant branch, as long as Tellan was tall and thicker than his rest.

Totle snapped off any protruding side branches and using a stone as they walked, smoothed the trunk of his branch of any bark.

“Walking stick?” Tellan enquired.

“Weapon, staff”

“If you hit anyone with that you might just kill them”

Totle smiled. “Gentle tap” he swung his staff around his head so quickly it was only a blur. Tellan heard a deep thrum as the staff moved through the air.

“Good enough” Totle started off down the track.

The track followed the path of the stream. Water would not be a problem. The distant mountains ahead offered the possibility of cooler air. But they had days of travel ahead before they were even close enough to get rid of the oppressive heat.

“Where go?” 

Tellan was getting used to his companion’s small talk.

“No firm plans, just keep going for now. Way down this road there is an inn at a crossroads. That will be a good place to rest and talk through what we want to do. We’ll need supplies soon”

“Village ahead”

“Don’t tell me,” Tellan declared, “you can smell it”

“Human stink, ”

As a soldier, Tellan had got used to the rank smell of his comrades, mixed with the rotting food dumps and latrines. You could smell an army camp a day away. He could smell nothing like that now, but wouldn’t doubt Totle’s nose. He also wondered about Totle’s daily habit of washing in the stream. It seemed an odd thing to want to do. ‘Can’t be good for you’ he thought.

The stream wound down to a bridge that allowed the track to cross the river. The bridge was old. Someone, long ago, had known how to throw a bridge together. Built of wood and vine and resting on wooden pillars sunk into the steam bed.

They usually build bridges close to towns and villages and Tellan was looking forward to a good rest preceded by food and drink.

As they moved closer to the bridge, four men materialised from the river bank.

Tellan’s happy state vanished immediately.

He’d met men like this before. Shoddy, unkempt, and probably not a coin between them. They were all armed. The men approached and stopped a few sword lengths away.

‘There was always a leader,’ Tellan thought. ‘With a group like this it’ll be the biggest of them’

Sure enough, the roughest looking of the bunch stepped forward. The smirk on his face did not bode well.

“That’ll be two coppers each,” big and burly demanded.

Tellan was watching the thin smiles on the faces of the three others. They expected no trouble and had probably had no problems bullying their way with weaker travellers.

“Why do you ask for money” Tellan looked straight into the eyes of big and burly.

“Toll for the bridge”

“That’s all right we’ll wade across” Tellan knew which way this would end but wanted to give the men every chance. Totle he noticed had moved slightly away and had changed his hand position on his staff.

Big and burly frowned. He wasn’t used to any form of extended dialogue.

“Must use the bridge and that’ll be three coppers each for you and your bear,” The men snickered.

Totle looked across to Tellan. An almost imperceptible nod told Tellan that Totle was ready for whatever came next.

“On whose authority to you make demands” Not long now, thought Tellan. He watched the men opposite him tighten their grip on their weapons. ‘Not that tight’ thought Tellan, ‘it’ll slow your strike’ He put the thought aside; he wasn’t training fighters now.

“This is my authority”. The oaf swung his sword around in what he probably thought was a fighting move.

“Go and grok yourself,” suggested Tellan.

The oaf’s face would have turned ugly if it wasn’t already there. He bellowed and charged at Tellan. The other three came forward with weapons raised.

Big and burly wasn’t fast, but it would not have mattered. He swung his sword, aimed at cutting Tellan in two. Tellan’s sword met and deflected the blow away to his left and the dagger in his left hand when straight into his opponent’s chest. His opponent died on his way to the ground as the second sword wielder came in. To his right, Tellan heard a sickening crack as wood met bone and a head was turned into a red mist of blood and brain. Another crack followed immediately. Totle’s work was done.

If the final thug had dropped his sword and ran, Tellan would have let him go. But he came on, anger fuelling his charge. He stabbed straight for Tellan’s chest. Tellan’s wrist twisted and flicked and the thug’s sword flew through the air. As the thug was trying to take in what had happened, a tip of a sword took his throat. His hands desperately seized his throat, trying to stop the blood spraying out. He couldn’t, he didn’t and he died. 

The fight had lasted for only a few seconds.

Tellan looked over to Totle, who said “swords slow” and raised his staff high.

“You got them both with one swing?” Tellan had never seen that done before.

“Save time” Totle was looking through the dead men’s belongings. 

They soon found out they were richer by a few coppers and a little food.

“Bodies?” Totle asked.

“We’ll throw them down the bank. Hopefully, they won’t be found for some time - help me with this one”

Totle made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort and picked up two of the men, one in each hand. He walked across towards the steam and with a graceful arc threw the bodies down the bank.

Tellan dragged ‘big and burly’ to the bank and toppled the body down towards the stream. As he turned around, he had to duck as the last body sailed over his head to rest with the other corpses.

“Welcome” said Totle.

The two of them travelled on and after a short stretch reached the out-skirts of a small village.

“We can’t stay here, someone will find those bodies soon enough. Let’s find as much food as we can pack and get along,” It was Tellan’s nature to be cautious. Under the circumstances, even more so.

They found a one room drink and eating place which smelt as bad as they felt and bought enough dry food to last them a few days. The bar’s locals were staring at Totle, trying to work their minds around what they were looking at. When Tellan pulled out his money bag, the clink of coins drew envious stares from those seated around the room’s few tables. 

Back on the what would have been the main street, if there had been another, Tellan suggested they hurry away from the village. “Too many of them back there may fancy their chances of taking our money.” 

Totle picked up speed and then picked up some more. “Not that quickly, I can’t walk that fast” Tellan was half-running.

“Carry” offered Totle.

“Never ask again,” said an indignant Tellan. “Just slow down a bit”

Totle affected a stride that was like a wounded bull: plod, wait for it, plod, plod. Each stride covering three of Tellan’s. 

“Hilarious” said Tellan. “That’ll do though”

They were now a day’s travel from the village. That was the first time his trained senses had picked up the sound of something trailing them. Something big but quiet. He’d only caught the odd sound. The brushing of a tree branch. Maybe the exhalation of one very large breath. Then a sound of a steady padding. The hairs on his neck were standing up. He’d learnt to trust those hairs. They’d saved his life on more than one occasion over the years.

It was when he was falling asleep in a rough camp that he’d heard a gentle purring from what sounded like a fair distance away. A short time later Totle crept, if that’s the best word for anything Totle’s size, back into the camp and lay down to sleep. ‘Call of nature’ Tellan was too sleepy to think.

It wasn’t until they were on the road together the morning after that the realisation hit him. He suddenly stopped, shook his head and thought ‘no way, just can’t be’ He walked on a few paces then quickly turned back to look back down the track, There was slight hedging and tall scrub alongside the track. Had he seen something move back there? All was still. 

“What’s up. Nothing to see back there,” Totle was obviously not worrying.

Then there was a snap. A small piece of tree being squashed by something of size.

“Did you here that?” Now Tellan worried.

“No” Totle responded all too quickly.

“You’ve got ears the size of a great ox, you must have caught that”

Then it hit him

“You’re still looking after the Rakes ain’t you” Now Tellan’s worries had moved up a notch into genuine fear. There was no defence from an attack by a Rakes. They were fast, agile and very single-minded. He’d heard tales of a Rakes being peppered with arrows and taking out a troop of soldiers; staying to feed, clawing the arrows off and then moving away as if nothing much had happened.

“Injured; Pain” was Totle’s reply.

“So it’s injured as well. Wonderful” thought Tellan. “Would it have a sore head as well?” Tellan hardly ever used a sarcastic tone, as it often seemed to invoke a violent response.

“Head fine” Totle smiled reassuringly. Sarcasm floating past to disappear without trace or effect down the trail.

“What was wrong with the cat”. Tellan thought he might as well know his enemy a little better.

“Side wound, ”

“What could wound a Rakes”

“Another Rakes” Totle looked at Tellan, “Side slashed” 

“Please don’t let there be two cats in the neighbourhood” Tellan thought out loud.

“Denali kill” explained Totle.

“You’ve given it a name!” Tellan exploded. “Hang on. We’re being followed by a Rakes that could kill another Rakes!”

“Think so”. Totle’s expression suggested pride.

“We are dead - let’s just lay down on the track and let it eat us”

“No danger”

“No danger!” Tellan scoffed. “Why ever not?”

“Friend” said Totle with pride.

“How big is this thing” asked Tellan and then wished he hadn’t.

Totle put a hand way above Tellan’s head and said, “Shoulder”

“Oh, good - a big one. I’ll never sleep tonight”

“She will” laughed Totle

‘A female’ Tellan knew the female Rakes was notoriously temperamental. “The good news rolls on”

Totle laughed and gave Tellan a gentle, playful push. Tellan flew sideways, ducked into a role and came to his feet. “You don’t know your strength” he complained.

“I do” said Totle. “Watch cat” He pointed backwards.

Tellan almost tripped over himself getting back to Totle’s side. He glanced nervously back but saw nothing. He could face any man coming at him with a weapon and feel no fear. But a Rakes, They said you never saw one until you felt one and you were dying by then.

Totle forged on. Tellan kept up.

WAY UP ON THE MOUNTAIN

Way up on the Mountain there’s a Hidden Cave

The Han-ling soldiers were muttering under their breath. Their long coats and armour overlay were straining their stamina to the limit. A small troop of 6 of them and their over-enthusiastic leader were making their way up the never ending slopes of Kiriashu, also known to any local on the other side of the mountain as ‘The Dragon’s Breath’. There were no local dragon fables, but the mountain attracted large volumes of mist which at regular times of the day rolled over the mountain and sprayed out into the air.

The mountain was bare and stony underfoot. It had no strategic value except if you could make it to the higher slopes then you were highly unlikely to be bothered by anyone else. There was no natural food supply and in the harsh seasons the cold would kill you in your sleep.

The troop had been climbing the steep track for two days with only brief periods of rest. Their captain pushed them onward and upward. They were on a mission for the Emperor and should have been grateful for the honour. Such was not the case.

“He can’t still be alive. He’d be well over 100 by now. This is a waste of time,” the lead soldier whispered to his comrade. “Don’t let Chang Liew hear you,” hissed his mate. “He’d use his stick on you for your insolence,”. The muttering continued.

Chang Liew looked scathingly at his 6 troops ahead of him. What a job to be given. Travel for days through harsh country, no decent inns and an unforgiving sun. All to be an errand boy and fetch an old man, who might even be dead, back to talk to the emperor. He knew the old man was supposed to be a sage or something like that and had been an adviser to previous emperors but times change. The emperor had any number of advisers at court all eager to offer an opinion. 

Some suggested that a promotion might be in the offing if the old man reached the emperor’s court - he would not fail. They had passed him over at the last review. ‘Too hard on his men, no empathy’ they had landed him with a bunch of cretinous brutes. They’d turn on him given a chance. He looked up towards the top slopes of Kiriashu. Snow topped the mountain. Chang Liew involuntary shivered. ‘Where in grok’s name was the cave that was the old man’s refuge?’ He felt his breathing starting to labour. His anger at his present task grew with each step. Destiny must have better tasks than this one. 

A shout from his lead trooper brought him back from his thoughts. The oaf was pointing up the mountain towards an overhanging ledge. An outcrop of some size. As his eyes focused Chang could just make out an opening beyond the ledge. 

A cave! Here at last. They could find some warmth in the cave, perhaps more food and be on their way down the mountain. Task accomplished. Chen urged his men onward.

What had seemed a small opening from below grew into an extensive space allowing the entire troop to enter as one. Inside the cave it was dark apart from the meagre light provided by a small fire burning in the middle of a ring of stones. No ordinary stones these. They burned slowly and emitted a gentle blue light. They were mesmerising. 

“Stare too long and your world will change”

The entire troop with a start reluctantly broke their contact with the blue light that ebbed and flowed throughout the cave. Several drew weapons 

as if defend themselves from who knows what.

Chang Liew shook his head. “Concentrate” he bellowed, “There is trickery here”

“No trickery,” came a soft, calm voice. “Everything is as everything is”

“What the groc does that mean” one soldier had spoken.

“Quiet. I shall talk” Chang’s voice sounded strained and noticed by the soldiers.

The cave was dark, and smoke hung in the air.

“Show yourself” Chang yelled into the smoke.

“Alas, rising is difficult for me. Could you approach?”

“Two of you go forward,” Chang commanded.

The two most forward soldiers looked back to see if any of their troop were volunteering. Nobody moved.

“Get on with it!” Chang yelled.

The two soldiers edged into the smoke, swords drawn. “Can’t see a grocking thing” one complained.

“Let me help with that” The soft voice again.

They heard a hiss, and a gentle breeze from the back of the cave quickly thinned the smoke. 

The leading soldiers stopped in their tracks.

In front of them sat an old man. It could be said an aged man. It might easily be argued an ancient man. Long grey hair fell over his face and down his sides. His tanned face in as much as could be seen was like an old leather boot left out in the sun and covered in the lines of age. A pair of deep, almost unnatural blue eyes, were keenly observing the group of soldiers.

“I get very few visitors these days” said the old man. “Can I offer you water” A bony arm and finger pointed to a cracked bowl of many years use that was collecting water that was dripping from the roof of the cave. “It’s cool and fresh”

Chang stepped forward. He straightened his jacket. “I am here on behalf of the emperor…”

“Which emperor?” the old man asked.

Chang looked puzzled. “Why, the great Zang Luo”

“Oh,” said the old man, “I knew him as a boy, a right little shit. I don’t imagine he’ll have changed much. A nasty streak in that one”

“To say that about the emperor can be taken as treason,”. Chang informed. “But we’ll let that pass for now. Are you Chenggong Wen who has served our previous emperors?”

“I am he, or rather was he. And a pain in the rear of a job it was”

Two soldiers laughed. Chang looked at them, his face full of anger. “There is nothing humorous about this. The next laugh will be your last” Silence followed.

Chang turned back to face Chenggong Wen.

“Chenggong Wen…”

“Please call me Wen if you prefer”

“Chenggong Wen” said Chang “I am here to escort you to the emperor on a matter of urgency. You will come with us immediately”

“I must regretfully refuse your kind offer” Wen’s apology echoed around the cave for a few seconds before Chang could draw a breath.

“It was not an offer. It is the emperor’s command. Rise and pack anything you wish to take. Do it now”

Wen’s eyes locked onto Chang’s eyes. Wen’s eyes were subtly changing colour. A pattern of different current hues shifted across them.

He spoke. “You misunderstand. I do not wish to go somewhere I do not want to go, to see someone I do not wish to see, to talk about matters that will not interest me. I hope that is clear enough for you”

“Enough” Chang was not used to what he took to be rank disobedience. He’d have killed a soldier on the spot if they had spoken as Wen had.

“You are an arrogant old man who I have no time for. You will come,” He gestured to his two closest troops to take hold of Wen.

The soldiers moved towards Wen and reached down to haul him to his feet. There was a sound of two, what sounded like slaps, followed by screams from both of the soldiers. Their sword hands were dangling from their wrists, their swords on the floor. Wen had a bamboo cane in each of his hands. They were vibrating ever so slightly.

“Please leave now”

Chang made a rapid but incorrect decision. He drew his sword and slashed at Wen’s head. Chang let himself have the beginnings of a smile as his sword rushed towards Wen’s neck. And then Wen wasn’t there. Chang’s sword clanged onto the cave floor. He suddenly realised he felt pain. He choked. One of Wen’s canes had pierced his throat. Chang’s eyes had a puzzled look as he slumped to the floor.

The soldiers stood rooted to the spot. They were stunned and unsure of what to do next.

“Let me help you,” Wen offered. “Choose to leave and live or follow Chang”

The soldiers needed no help at all in deciding. They turned and slowly, almost reverently moved away to exit the cave.

One turned. “The emperor will seek you out. He will wish to make an example of you. He will never stop looking until you are dead”

“This I know,” Wen sighed. “Many have died to save an emperor’s pride. Power and corruption will stand no rebuke”

The soldier bowed and left the cave.

Wen looked around the cave. It had served him well for so long. But change is part of life’s journey. He knew where he must travel to. It didn’t take him long to pack. He took time wrapping the stones that would help to sustain him on his way. As he exited the cave and walked down the mountain, he looked off into the far distance. He could make out the dark mountains. There was trouble there, he thought. Most would head away. Leaning on his two canes, he headed off towards the road that would take him towards the mountains.

A PRINCE'S TALE

A Prince's Tale

The slap echoed around the King’s Chamber.

The young prince fell to the floor, his face crimson from the blow. The king stood over him, fuming. “You let me down again!” he roared.“I give you fifty men and you return with a handful and your fanciful tales of monsters and beasts.”

Rito Thelin, the prince, was trying to struggle to his feet. The king stepped forward to strike him again.

“Husband!” Artea, the Queen, cried out. Her husband’s temper could kill a man. 

The king paused, turned, and with obvious irritation spoke to his wife. “One more word and you will feel my hand”

The queen shrank back. His was no idle threat. But she’d distracted him.

The king turned to his son. “If you were not my son, I’d kill you right away. But as my dear wife would try to make my life a misery I cannot do that”

The queen breathed, a little calmer.

“I sent you out to search for Gallan, your beloved brother, the king that should be after my reign is over. You come back empty-handed, running from a fight, a coward’s flight to save your worthless life. Your brother is a warrior, a son to be proud of. Better than you in every respect”

“Father, it wasn’t like that. I was lucky to escape with my life, I…”

“I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses again shouted the king. Stand up straight if you can”

Rito got to his feet. Tunic torn and bloodied. Cheek still leaking blood from what might have been a claw mark slashed across his face. His chest armour was dented in many places and covered in bits and pieces of whatever he had been fighting against.

The king looked him in the eye. “I do not want to see you in my court again until you have found out what happened to your brother”

“Please father, I can’t go back again,” Rito pleaded, “risk no more lives”

“Oh, I won’t be risking lives, only yours. Tomorrow you will head back north and finish the task I gave you. Find your brother and determine what happened to him”

“By myself?” Rito could not believe what he had heard. “You send me to die”

It had gone so quiet in the king’s chamber that Rito’s laboured breathing could be clearly heard. The assembled nobles and their retinues dare not speak or otherwise interject. Lives were in the balance here.

The king smiled, but not the smile you’d want to see. “I don’t wish to be seen to be too unfair to you” The king looked around the chamber. Many did not meet his eye. “If any of you wish to go with the prince, then please speak up”

Silence.

Silence.

Then, “I’ll go with the prince”

Whispers passed around the chamber. What fool volunteers. He must be mad. He throws his life away. Nobody speak.

“Step forward, let me see you” The king's eyes moved around the room.

Quirin Guell an old retainer, and the prince’s fighting instructor stepped forward. “I’ll go where the prince goes. I have tired of the ways of this court.” 

“Quirin, no,” said the prince. “You don’t need to do this. I…” the prince faltered, “I may not return”

“Then I may not return with you as well”

There was a ripple of laughter around the chamber and a few expressions of concern. Quirin was old, although still well respected. He’d fought in several wars for his country and had trained many of those present in the sword's art.

The king glared around the chamber. “Very well, if you are fool enough. You are of little use to me here these days”

The old warrior looked directly at the king. “It would be my honour to serve the best of our royalty as well as I can”

The king took a step forward. “Be careful with your words, old man or I will finish you myself” The king’s hand had strayed to the hilt of his sword. The king paused. Quirin’s hand was resting lightly on the pommel of his own sword.

The king halted. “You will be gone at first light otherwise your time here will be limited indeed,” he threatened.

Quirin gave the briefest of bows. “As the king commands” He looked at the prince. “Rito we should talk and then prepare” He walked over to the prince and gently led him out of the chamber.

As they walked the long corridor, Quirin was thinking; what have I let myself in for? He looked across at the young prince. Rito was tall, lithe and an excellent fighter. Well, in theory at least. Rito had excelled in all the bouts against his peers at the castle and had surprised his seniors with his skills. But he lacked in real-world experience. The prince was naïve, too trusting. Quirin didn’t know what had happened on the prince’s expedition to find Gallan. Perhaps he’d arrive at the truth on their journey for as long as it lasted. He harboured no great optimism. Reports from the north told of strange creatures, awful deaths. There was a slow but steady stream of villagers arriving at the castle, unable to face what was happening. Screams in the night. People disappearing. Animals torn to shreds and what remained of them left in the fields for the birds. Strange tracks left coming in and out of the forest. Children were left to forage in the forest for edible fungi and roots. Their parents stopped that freedom when other children failed to return from the forest. Parents with children were now on the road south. Harsh conditions, but safety first.

“I’ll get the packing sorted out overnight,” he told Rito. “Get all the sleep you can”

Rito turned to him. “Can we do what the king asks of us. Find Gallan and bring him back?”

Quirin paused. “I’ve never lied to you across the years, and I won’t start now. Say your goodbyes. I’ll see you at first light”

Rito walked to his royal quarters. Two guards were on either side of his door. They did not try to engage with him. He entered his rooms. His mother, the queen rose from the chair she had been resting on and rushed to embrace her son. “Rito…” was all she could say through her tears.

“Mother, don’t weep. I promise if fate is with me I will return”

The queen held his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. “Whatever happens, if you survive, do not return. The king is mad with worry about Gallan, whom he fears has perished. He knows no rest. If you return with no news, then he will judge you as having failed him. Your very life may be forfeit to his madness”

“If he hurts you mother, then his life will be forfeit,”

“I will tread lightly and keep as far away from him as I dare. I have something for you” The queen picked up an object that was wrapped in heavy cloth. “Take this with you” She offered the bundle to Rito. He unwrapped the object. He started when he revealed a sword, but not just any sword. What he held in his hands was ‘Fury’, sword of the redeemer General Rares Koltun. Koltun was a mystic warrior who fought and repelled an invasion from the north centuries before. An invasion of thousands of crazed fighters who moved south-wards in large numbers, killing, maiming anything and everybody in their path. Human in many ways, but each was distorted in some way. Fangs where teeth should be. Unnaturally long limbs. Long body hair on large skulls. No one knew whence they came and what drove them on. It was said that a demon forced them onward, flames for his eyes and blood on his every finger, striking left and right if any faltered.

When Koltun’s forces met them head on his men fell back as the demon slashed a path through his fighters. In the demon’s wake it was said that bodies writhed in agony, burning from within. Death waited to take them but they lived on in terrible pain, their shrieks filling the air and unnerving Koltun’s forces.

Koltun’s great sword Fury sang as it cut through the enemies it found. The sound was eerie. A whistling sound, a sigh, gentle voices whispering, and death always death, followed. 

Soon enough, the demon faced Koltun. The demon was large, a red mist gathering all around its distorted shape. It might have been human at one time, but long, long ago. The blazing eyes and fanged maw terrified all around Koltun. Koltun stood still, impressive in his calm. The demon spoke from beneath its great cloak and hood “Great pleasure I will take this day, in ripping you apart and eating your innards, once I have cooked you from within”

 As the demon finished its threat, it spat a ball of searing flame at Koltun. Koltun’s sword rose to meet the ball of flame, and there was a hiss as the flame vanished into and around the sword. The sword now glowed with power, and Koltun slowly approached the demon. “Not today demon”

The demon seethed with fury and slashed out with its long arms and claws. Again Koltun’s sword swung to meet the onslaught. As sword met ancient bone, the demon screamed, its arm burning blue fire which arced from the sword onto and into the demonic beast. It cowered away from the sword.

“Not today, demon” Koltun repeated and advanced.

The demon’s arms spread wide to reveal scabby, flaking wings, like ageing leather. The demon sprang into the air and turned away, heading back to the dark, far north.

Once the demon had fled the field, its horde of followers turned and ran, shrieking and wailing as they went.

“Hold” Koltun commanded. “We will lose no more men today” The relief showed on the faces of his torn and bloodied soldiers.

“We head back to our families, heads held high. But for the moment, tend to the wounded, eat and rest, then we travel”

Centuries had passed. The darkness in the far north did not return, but none were foolish enough to venture there.

Koltun died in old age. Respected and revered. His sword had then hung in the king’s chamber. It was said that anyone trying to wield the sword felt such a chill of imaginable horror that they had to let it fall and would never try to use it again. On the hilt of the sword etched in ancient runes was just one word. FURY.

Now Rito held the fabled sword. “they say it cannot be wielded,” he smiled at his mother. “The king will be angry it has been removed”

“Perhaps it just vanished. Who is to say?” His mother hugged him one last time. “Take it with you, anyway. Who knows what you will face. Just remember that this sword belonged to our greatest hero, and none have used it since. May it bring you good fortune. My love goes with you”

“If Gallan lives, I will find him and bring him back to you”

“Stay alive” were his mother’s last words to him as he turned and walked away.

The next morning at first light, Rito walked into the courtyard to find Quirin standing by two horses already saddled. Rito looked at his friend as he slung his own pack onto his horse and carefully slid a covered Fury next to his pack and the smaller packs of food already strapped to the back of his saddle. “We appear to be travelling light?” he queried.

 “Light means faster. We can find more food as we travel. Water won’t be a problem” Quirin pulled himself into his saddle.

“Are you sure you’re not weighed down with your weapons?” Rito pointed to Quirin’s sword, spear and axe and a set of throwing daggers strapped to his chest.

“Would you rather carry one more than you might need or one less” was the answer” “Shall we go?”

And go they went. Neither looked back, even though both realised that they might never see their home again.

 

PAWS FOR THOUGHT

The sun beat down.

“This track seems endless. What wouldn’t I give for some shade” Tellan was usually rather more of an optimist than otherwise, but the heat was wearing him down. He ambled off the track to the edge of the river. He simply tilted forward and fell into the cool water. Tellan opened

his mouth and drank heavily of the cooling water.

Totle had followed him to the river’s edge and was cooling his feet in the water. A gentle sigh left his mouth. “Better”

“I’ll say” Tellan rose from the water and waded back to the bank. He settled next to Totle.

“We need to walk in shade” he said to Totle. “This damn country is all shrub and dusty tracks”

“Cooler soon”

“Why so?” Tellan didn’t want any false hope.

“Valley, trees” Totle pointed ahead.

Tellan shaded his eyes and squinted towards the east. He saw the track was rising slightly. In the far distance, almost lost in the haze he thought he could make out rising walls, cliffs perhaps. And best of all, a hint of green.

“Trees” he sighed “Trees”

Another hard day of walking found an exhausted Tellan making camp in the shelter of the first trees they’d seen in days of travelling. There was no lack of food, but Tellan was growing tired of fish, fish and then more fish for their meals. Totle’s skills at capturing the fish were reliable and had served them well enough.

“Bread and ale” Tellan sighed. “Bread and ale. I used to take it for granted - never again”

“Inn?”

“As far as I remember from the old maps, the river will lead us to a crossroads, and there we will find an inn. Oh for a soft bed”

“Never had” Totle smiled.

“You’ve never slept in a bed!” Tellan found that hard to believe, but looking at his friend he didn’t doubt Totle’s word.

“Straw, animals”

“You slept with the livestock?”

“Warm” Totle explained.

Tellan could only imagine what Totle’s life had been like. Treated as an animal, beaten for any fault, real or otherwise. Totle took such great pleasure in everything he saw around him now. New found freedom. Totle wasn’t likely to give that up too readily in the future.

Tellan wondered what that future would hold. He enjoyed Totle’s simple, quiet company. Perhaps they could travel together picking up work where they could. Who knew?

A noise in the woods not too far away brought him out of his thoughts.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered to Total, who seemed unconcerned.

There was a sound rather like a rush of wind and a thud that echoed through the ground.

Tellan leapt to his feet, sword in hand. “Grab your staff, hit anything that comes out of the woods”

“No need” Totle picked up the last fish they were saving for the morning and threw it over Tellan’s head deep into the woods.

There was the sound, rather like the crunching of bones and then a wave of sounds of such a deep resonance that Tellan’s jaw felt the vibrations.

“What the groc is that?” he said backing away from the woods towards the fire.

Tellan wasn’t scared of anything he’d ever met but the hairs on the back of his head were trying their best to fly away.

“What do you mean ‘no need’?”

“Denali”

If one word had ever had such an impact on Tellan, then he couldn’t remember it.

“The Rakes cat!” Now he was sweating. “You’ve been feeding it as we’ve been travelling haven’t you?”

“Likes fish” Totle was smiling. He’s doing that too much thought Tellan.

“Not hurt” Totle said.

“You mean it’s healed now or, it won’t hurt me - us”

“Both” Totle explained.

Totle then made a noise that sounded unnerving. A gentle shushing noise over and over again.

“Stand here” Totle pointed to a space next to himself.

Tellan was there in a flash.

“Sword away” Totle advised.

“It’s my only defence” hissed Tellan. He looked over at Totle, who was regarding him with a sceptical expression.

“Oh” Tellan took the point. It was a Rakes. He might as well hit it with a pillow for all the difference it would make in terms of life saving, his in particular.

Totle kept making his shushing sound, and Tellan braced himself. He noticed his legs had self-braced already. He doubted he could move.

A thudding sound was now coming closer. The sound of something rather large was heading straight for them. The thudding of giant paws continued.

Not ‘rather’ large corrected Tellan - HUGE

Tellan was not ready for what he saw next. He had in a mind that was twirling with emotions that he was about to see something rather similar to a mountain feline but much bigger. Then he remembered he’d heard tales of Rakes feeding on the mountain cats.

What came out of the trees froze him to the bone. Every hair on his body stood rigid, His mouth was so dry he doubted he could talk. It transfixed him. In truth, he felt a little faint.

The head of the Rakes was as wide as Tellan was, and it was far higher than his head. As he looked up, the body of the cat was exiting the woods. And it kept exiting, slowly, sinuously. The animal was longer than two men. Fawn in colour with stripes of a slightly darker colour running down its body. The cat approached Totle and bent its head to gentle nudge Totle’s own head. There was a thud of heads colliding and Totle’s head was nudged backwards. Totle put his hand up to the creature’s ears and gently stroked away. The cat emitted a purr that moved through the ground and the air. Tellan felt it in his legs and his ears.

“Welcome Denali” purred Totle.

The cat turned its enormous head towards Tellan. This is it, thought Tellan. It can do anything it wants to me, and I can’t stop it. He found he was shaking.

“Don’t move” advised Totle

Tellan realised he’d not breathed for some time and forced himself to inhale.

Denali moved its majestic head down and sniffed. Tellan’s jacket was drawn towards the cat. Denali moved closer and sniffed at Tellan’s head. His hair was drawn upwards and inhaled by the cat. Denali gave Tellan a gentle nudge and Tellan sailed backwards the length of his body.

Totle exploded with laughter. “Friends now” He reached over and picked Tellan up. Tellan felt dwarf-like in the presence of these two. “That wasn’t funny” he complained, which brought another gale of laughter from Totle.

“Come closer” Totle beckoned.

Getting any closer to a Rakes was the last action that Tellan wished to take; largely because it might be his last action. He recognised the futility of refusing. A line had now been crossed. He sidled along next to Totle. He was now within a short arm’s reach of the most dangerous animal in his world.

Denali was purring. Totle was stroking her ears.

Tellan could see the great side of the beast gently moving in and out as she slowly breathed.

Totle suddenly held Tellan’s arm and gently placed it on the side of the cat. Totle’s hand closed over Tellan’s hand.

“Feel” Totle looked into Tellan’s eyes.

Tellan wanted more than anything to whip his hand away, but he saw how much Totle wanted him to know the Rake.

He suddenly realised that he could feel a great warmth. The cat’s fur was deep and his hand disappeared from his view. How thick is this fur he thought? His hand touched the animal’s skin, and he stopped any movement.

“Stroke” suggested Totle.

Tellan started to slowly move his hand from side to side. Gods, he thought this is one warm animal. Tellan was beginning to like the experience. He noticed that Totle was no longer holding his arm. He smiled, all was good, this was good. A warm, peaceful feeling ran through his body.

That is when it happened.

Denali’s great head turned towards Tellan and edged closer. Tellan froze. The largest tongue that he’s ever seen flicked out of Denali’s jaws and slapped his face. Denali’s tongue covered the whole of Tellan’s face. Warm and clammy and with a smell that made him want to retch. Totle chuckled “Good friends” and patted Denali’s head. The big cat turned and padded off into the trees. Tellan looked down on the ground and saw the huge paw prints. He could place both of his feet into one footprint.

Totle was watching him. “Big” he said. Tellan nodded. Then he realised that the awful smell that was assailing his nostrils was coming from his face. He ran to fetch his water bottle and poured all of his contents over his head. He dried himself with his sleeves.

“You fine?”

“I’ll never be fine again,” Totle responded, “Why is the cat friendly at all?”

“Helped her”

“That’s it?, is that all?”

“Treated well” Totle offered.

“She was hurt?”

“Badly, ”

“And you cared for her” How much trust must the cat have given Totle.

“All fine”

“She looks in good health” Tellan smiled.

“Little limp, ”

“I hadn’t noticed”

“Little slower”

Tellan knew a Rakes could outrun anything. Maybe it’s usual prey now had a sporting chance. But no, he reasoned. Denali was fit and looked every bit as strong as he would have expected a top predator to be.

“Will Denali be following us?” Tellan had mixed views on the prospect of a Rakes tagging along.

“Always” Totle said with what might have been pride?

Tellan strained but heard no sound “I can’t hear anything”

“She knows” said Totle

Tellan sighed, he noticed he’d thought of the beast as ‘Denali’ How quickly the world can change. Whatever next. Friends with a Rakes?

 

IF YOU GO DOWN IN THE WOODS TODAY

Smoke and Mirrors

Rito and Quirin had ridden hard until they lost the light of day, They followed the river that flowed towards the castle they’d had to leave. The Shellder Rill was large and swift and provided the water that enriched the land all around them. They had built the castle to protect the many villages that had grown up around the river. Each village paid taxes to the king and were pleased to. Their lands were the envy of many who would cross the river from the east and raid their farms and lands for the rich pickings they provided. 

Quirin had suggested a place to camp, and they had used the local woods for kindling to start their cooking fire. Their road ran alongside the southern woods, which they’d just reached before settling down. Quirin had created a passable meal from their provisions and they were now resting by the fire contemplating sleep.

“How do we avoid dying?” he suddenly asked Quirin.

“A cheerful question to raise before we sleep,” Quirin smiled. “it troubles you” It wasn’t a question.

“We know what we face. We’ve seen and fought the beasts with our troops, who were no match at all. And how could they be? What could stand against those monsters; their power, their savagery. They had no worries at all about dying. They just wanted to shred us to pieces, ”

Quirin looked over at Rito. He knew the young man was no coward; he’d seen the prince fighting in the thick of it until he’d taken a hit to his head and was slammed to the ground, oblivious. Quirin had rushed to his aid and pulled him out of the throng and guarded his body. They did not know if the prince lived, but would not see his body cut to pieces. As the battle was lost, Quirin had carried Rito away. Two soldiers stayed to guard their exit. Quirin heard their screams in the distance and wondered, not for the first time, about duty and the bravery of his men. Quirin had flung Rito over the saddle of his horse. Climbed onto his own mount and with Rito’s horse in tow had ridden off and away to safety.

“We shouldn’t plan on taking the same route,” he suggested.

“I thought we took the troops the only way we could, up the ‘dead road’ to the marshes”

“Ay, that cursed road is well named. Few need to travel along it. But we had to get the troops north, and that’s the only route for large numbers”

“Are you saying there is another way” Rito had not forgotten the carnage that has awaited his soldiers along that road. “Where is the road and is it safe?”

“No route is safe where we must travel. We go through the ‘Restless Mountains’ It’s not a road, barely a track. The mountains are subject to regular rock falls when the ground shakes”

“I’ve heard that solid ground can act like a river,” Rito had heard the tales from one of his old teachers. “It is said that buildings can shake and topple. Have you actually seen anything like that?”

“No, but I’ve heard the tales”

“Well, if that’s all we have to worry about, we’ll see how we cope with it” Rito looked at Quirin’s face. “That’s not all is it?” Rito had felt a little better on the prospect of avoiding the Dead Road, but Quirin’s face had told him his hopes might be in vain.

Quirin looked tired “they say there are creatures that live high on the slopes that seek humans for their meat - but it’s probably just talk. Scary stories around the fires at night”

“And what do you think,” asked Rito.

Quirin took some time before he spoke.

“I think forewarned is a good thing. Better to think there may be something there and be on guard, than to try to whistle our way through the mountains,” He fiddle with the throwing knives on his chest.

“All wooden handles except for the red one at the bottom,” Rito had noticed, “not a matching set?”

“Oh, they match all right,” Quirin took one wooden knife out to examine it. The red one is a bit special.”

“How so?”

“It’s point rests in a small pool of poison. Powerful stuff; lethal and fast if it gets in your bloodstream.”

“So you wouldn’t want to prick your finger with it?” Rito smiled across at Quirin.

“You grocking well wouldn’t. You’d be dead in a few heartbeats.”

“Have you ever used it.” Rito was like a young child fascinated by anything new.

“Only when there was nothing left to do. It always seemed a bit like cheating.”

“Cheating? I thought you taught me that if you are fighting for your life, anything goes. ‘There is no chivalry in being dead’.”

“Sounds like me.” Tellan said. “So the mountain road?”

“That’s what we’ll do,” Rito agreed. “We’ll be on guard for just about anything that might be up there and come our way”

“That will be one heck of a lot of guarding then, just for the two of us,” Quirin said.

“Oh, cheer up” Rito mounted his horse and headed on down the road softly whistling an army marching song - he was smiling.

Quirin groaned, “That’s it, let them know we’re coming”

Rito laughed. Quirin pulled himself up onto his horse and followed Rito, “Doomed” was all he said.

They travelled northward for another day and night. In the far distance to the north-east they could see the faint summits of the Restless Mountains peaking over the great eastern forest they were now approaching.

Quirin paused where a small path left the main road. 

“Just wide enough for our horses and safer for us than staying on the road” 

“Are we not safe then? I didn’t expect any trouble just yet,” Rito was looking into the forest “I hear and see nothing”

“We’re safe enough for now,” Quirin responded, “but you are a prince of this land and known to many. We need to keep our plans guarded and our path hidden for as long as we can”

“Does that mean we’ll miss the Four Cornered Inn?” Rito had his thoughts on a good meal and a soft bed. He also remembered with some fondness the attentions of the serving girls who were set on competing for the attention of a prince” He was smiling with remembrance until he realized not so many days later all the

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Robert Hopkins
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.04.2021
ISBN: 978-3-7487-8123-3

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To the Dreamers