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    Paladin
    Paladin
    Paladin
    Ebook283 pages4 hours

    Paladin

    By A. Foster

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    About this ebook

    Our hero, from the previous story, "Runner" has no choice but to move on, after the death of his love.
    Annon, Prince to the Isle of Kings, knight of the City of Tamdrac, fighter and more, but not enough. His true desire to revenge Drellin and become a Paladin of the Light. After losing his love to the evil of this cold world Arrel, the man continued north. He went to find Shendar the teacher and learn the ways of runners, half-humans, and breeds. When he left his homeland it was for honor and glory. Now it was for something far greater. He had a true purpose. A far greater cause.

    Because of accident, fate or design, the big man saves and befriends Glenfel. She is the most unusual runner he had ever met so far. Come to find out she was not human at all but something different, special and unique. The future of their world Arrel may hang in the balance of both their futures.

    Book One: Runner by A. Foster #ISBN: 9780463444184
    Book Two: Paladin by A. Foster. Publishing Now!
    Book Three: Dragon by A. Foster Winner April 2019 Camp Nanowrimo Award, Publish date June 2019
    Legends from the Great Wood

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherA. Foster
    Release dateMay 9, 2019
    ISBN9780463566756
    Paladin
    Author

    A. Foster

    Hello friends,Thank you for taking a moment to check out my site. I hope one of my stories catches your attention. Love to hear from you. Please like me, follow me and above all, tell someone else. I would be so grateful.I love to write, all kinds of stories. I am interested in real pirates from long ago, spaceships of tomorrow and all the time travel I can get. When I am not writing, I am thinking about new stories to tell and try out. Love to attend campfires and volunteer in classrooms often. A great place to entertain and experiment on themes.Hope to be invited to your campfire one day...Have fun and keep reading, dreaming, writing and hugging those you love most.

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      Book preview

      Paladin - A. Foster

      Paladin

      A Legend from the Great Wood

      By A. Foster aka Annette Foster

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      In memory of friends, the best of times.

      Table of Contents

      Preface- The Oath

      Chapter One-Far Town

      Chapter Two-A Mob

      Chapter Three-The Hunter and The Hunted

      Chapter Four-The Tree City of Olcana

      Chapter Five-The Future of Trees

      Chapter Six-War

      Chapter Seven-Watcher on the Hill

      Chapter Eight-The Gift

      Chapter Nine-Horse and Rider

      Chapter Ten-Tricks and Traps

      Chapter Eleven-The Comforts of Home

      Chapter Twelve-Shendar My Friend

      Chapter Thirteen-A Man of Dirt

      Chapter Fourteen- An Evil Melody

      Chapter Fifteen-Gone Swimming

      Chapter sixteen-Death in the Mist

      Chapter Seventeen-Qualer

      Chapter Eighteen-No, My Friend

      Chapter Nineteen-Kardia, the Heart

      Chapter Twenty-Another Good-Bye

      Sneak Peak at Armilander, the dragon

      Notes and Acknowledgements

      More Books by A. Foster aka Annette Foster

      Home

      Preface- The Oath

      Annon lifted his eyes from the wood grain in the table he had been mentally tracing with his eyes. He starred at Shendar directly. I don't know why Drellin did all the things that came to pass, but I do know I will not let her death go unpunished. I will do all that I can to bring honor to her memory. Annon stood slowly. He placed his hand on his own sword. Teach me, old man. Teach me as you did her. It too did not sound like a request, but more like a statement of what was to come.

      You are not a breed, human. This fight is not yours. You don’t even come from this land. You come from across the sea. The powers of the Light reaches there as do those of the dark, but they are muted and distant. Here they are life and death. Annon, you would be playing a very, dangerous game. Shendar did not even look up from his sitting position as he responded to the man. He continued to stare down at the table. His chipped mug of tea was untouched at his elbow.

      This is not a game. Death is never a game. Drellin served the Light. Now I will serve the Light as well. Teach me, old man. This time it was a statement without a possibility of question. Annon made it very clear by his stance that further challenge was not an option. Annon had made up his mind, committed his heart and offered his soul.

      Okay then. I will respect Drellin and do as you ask. Remember you were warned. The old man lifted his eyes to meet Annon's directly this time. There were words unspoken between them that were best kept that way for now. They exchanged something unseen for the space of many beats. Talma could sense that something wonderful and terrible had happened here in this room. What that, was? Talma could not know for sure. The old man pushed back his chair and stood. As Shendar drew himself up to his full height, he seemed to grow more powerful. His weakness of emotion tangibly diminished. Shendar was no feeble old man, but a teacher, and elder. If this is what your heart leads you to do then I will honor Drellin's memory.

      Shendar held out his right hand to Annon, palm up. The fighter had no clue what was going to happen but waited. Flesh and blood, Annon. We are all flesh and blood. The color is different, the shade, the hue, but inside? Same. There has been a war going on since the first snow. Maybe it will never end. It has roots, but that is another lesson. For now, it is about right and wrong in the land. People are hurting and dying. Drellin was part of the answer. Serving the Light is the answer. Shendar's gray eyes clouded up with visions of past victories and defeats. Listen to my words and become one with the Light. The teacher changed form ever so slightly. His visage shifted to show a mirror of changing new and different faces. It was like he had recorded all of Arrel's history in his countenance. Shendar's robes rustled about him as if they were, alive.

      Talma moved back to the small pantry and stayed close to the wall, in an effort, to be invisible. He was mesmerized, riveted to the moment, watching this new turn of events with a mixture of real hope and honest fear.

      Weapons of war and keepers of peace do not turn from the shadow. The Light of the sun that burns in the heart embraces the truth, and lives in the fire of forever. Shendar held Annon's gaze. Do you believe?

      The 5th Prince from the Isle of Kings did not hesitate. Yes. I believe. I will serve. Both men continued to be locked in an unseen exchange. It was a silence that allowed all present to fully, understand the enormity of the word. Yes. Giving everything to serve something greater was a selfless act. It was the act of faith in tomorrow and the right of Light.

      Finally, the old man let go. He released the fighter. Annon was still a bit unclear as to what was expected of serving, but regardless he had found worth. He had found value. Things, going the right way, his father would be proud of him yet. Shendar sat down rather heavily, and his appearance returned to the simple old teacher from a handful of minutes before. Annon remained standing for a bit longer, the old man's words still echoing in his mind. He felt different, but could not quite say how or why? Annon was sure of the divergence none the less. Finally, he too sat down. Talma who had continued to watch dared to move from his hiding place. He grabbed the little kettle from the hearth fire and freshened the old man's tea.

      Home

      Chapter One-Far Town

      Glenfel stood near the entrance, just within the shadow of the doorway itself, to the tiny tavern. The room inside was filled with music and the sounds of many people speaking all at once. She could hear them, clearly. All of them, all at the same time! It was terribly confusing. It also made her uneasy and anxious. There were extremely strong smells emanating from the doorway. It was a strange mixture of plain, honest food, sweaty, dirt-covered townspeople, travelers, pipe smoke and slightly sour drink. It made her stomach turn, just a little. There were also other food smells. Some did not smell bad or turn her stomach but made it rumble instead.

      Finally, soundlessly, Glenfel took a deep breath and pushed through the double doors.

      It was dark and hard to see in many areas. Not like the night outside, but more mysterious and sinister. The lighting was terrible, and the crowd was an ocean of movement. People sitting at tables, mingled together, talking loudly all combined to make things confusing and unsettling. Two wenches were walking back and forth from customers to the kitchen. There was one rather huge man, angry and yelling about a servant or wench being too slow. A tiny man with an overly large waist, setting near the fire was playing, his instrument poorly. He was a harpist, trying to entertain but plucking a tree cat might have sounded better. No one was really listening. Glenfel was wishing she did not have to listen. All the sounds were mingled together and then separated in her head. It was disorienting.

      Glenfel felt a twinge of uneasiness. It left a bad taste in her mouth. This was not a safe place. She counted ten tables in all and perhaps twenty bodies in the room. It was good to take and keep count. Obviously. The large fireplace in the central area was open on all sides. It kept the inner room warm and brought just a little extra light to the interior. It crackled and popped vigorously. It did a fairly good job. It added a faint golden glow to everything and everyone near it. The problem was that it also added a lot of extra smoke. It made the air that much thicker and hard to breathe. It was suffocating by Glenfel's standards. It could not be helped. She needed to be here.

      Even with the dim light from the fire, along with the few candles on the tables here and there, the feeling of the room was a sharp contrast to the darkness outside. There had been no moon and no stars, only the winter clouds that threatened snow. Yet the weather was a welcome hazard as compared to this place.

      Glenfel continued forward a few more feet, to just within the entrance of the little tavern. Her ears heard the undertone of questions nearly tangible within the foul air, but no one came forward. This was Salor Far Town, no one asked questions of strangers here. It was an unspoken rule. A rule few travelers or townsfolk dared to break. On the rare occasion, someone did decide to try, there was always bloodshed. It never went as planned, at least to date.

      Adjusting swiftly to the dimmer light, Glenfel saw an empty table off to one side. It would allow her a good view of the main doors as well as the passageway back to the kitchen. Covering all the entrances and exits in one chair was an excellent idea. That was perfect. She could also keep an eye on the strange array of customers and guests of the roadhouse while she sat. There, Glenfel could wait for Shilon, better known as the Leech.

      Shilon was a low-grade scavenger of everything from information to the leftover items among the dead. That is how he had acquired his name. Shilon had been caught stripping boots off of fallen shadow riders by the Teekmar, the local sheriff types, during the border skirmishes a few years back. They let him go as no one really had much pity for shadow riders, but the name stuck. Over the years the elders had used Shilon from time to time, as he was a pure blood. He could go into places and carry messages as needed. Glenfel knew the Leech had value. Funny that he was shunned by all around him, yet his use was important? That gave her something to consider. Having a purpose was significant, that is why she was sitting and waiting even now.

      Shilon should be able to find her here quickly enough. Besides, his message had been clear and specific about this place. The Boar. The name suited the patrons' as far as Glenfel could tell. Most were sly, ugly looking hunter types and a few greedy, dirty merchants of questionable wares. All swine of one manner or another to the runner were well represented. However, anything was better than waiting outside with the icy mist coming on again. The longer she could avoid the cold, the better. Well thinking and focusing on that, gave her small comfort.

      The time passed at a snail's pace, Glenfel could almost have counted the beats of her own heart. The sound was deafening in her ears, but it was just that, in her ears. Life had become dreamlike, almost a nightmare, waiting for his arrival. Close enclosed places bothered her more then she had anticipated. The cold outside may have been a better choice, Glenfel thought to herself.

      After what felt like an hour, but was in reality only a few minutes, a hefty middle-aged woman came waddling over. Her eyes were set too close together upon her overly large, dirty face. Her mouth was small, much too petite compared to her other features. She leaned over, nearly on top of Glenfel's table and her hair feel forward in tangles. I'm Clara, the owner's wife. What can I get for ya? Chamek? Her smile was a yellow toothy sight, and the voice grated hard on Glenfel's ears. After no answer, Clara continued with a slight shake in her tone that seemed completely out of place for a woman of her size. The Chamek's the best around here. It is the best drinking wine we' have.

      With no more than the slightest nod from Glenfel, Clara had her answer and left to retrieve the wine. Moments later the old wench returned. She placed a dark, plain colored wine bottle and a clean heavy mug on the wood table in front of the younger woman. In one surprisingly fluid movement, she finished, spun on her back heel and moved on to her next task.

      Once more left to her self, Glenfel slowly sensed something was amiss. There were just far too many people in the room. However, the feeling was more than surface anxiety. Glancing precariously about, she spotted what set her to the uneasy side. In the far corner, past the fireplace, but still within view, were three hunters. Not just any kind of hunters, these were mutant hunters. The bounty for high-end types like her, those with skills, could be large. The slave trade was in full swing in all the southern kingdoms. These men were dangerous.

      They were killers of half-humans, more beasts themselves then the poor creatures they murdered or sold into slavery. Why? Glenfel thought to herself. Why had she not seen them before now? Alas, even here is Salor these men were dangerous. Glenfel would have to make sure she kept an eye on them, specifically. She also could not help but mumble an angry curse in Shilon’s name. Why he had chosen to meet in the city, even here in Salor?, was beyond Glenfel. It was after all extremely dangerous in the best of times.

      Yes! She berated herself. Glenfel was sure the bounty hunters knew what she was even with her hood covering most of her features. As yet they had made no outward move. Perhaps they thought to wait until the tavern cleared a bit first. That was a wise plan in general for the teekmar, if they were about, did not like fights in Salor. They would not be on her side at all, but they would not allow too much of a ruckus to take place either. It would be bad for the town. Many races came here to trade goods and services. There was no place quite like Salor anywhere else in the northern reaches. A bit further north and east lay Mayir. It was smaller and not a true comparison. Salor had a reputation, and the townsfolk meant to keep things just as they were, it was best for everyone.

      Glenfel’s thoughts once again turned to Shilon, the Leech. Curse him, where was he? Why did he want to meet here? Why not on the outskirts of town, as previously arranged? Her hand had unconsciously moved to her long knife. She released the loop that held it fast. The feel of its cold, hard metal was somewhat reassuring. It cast a shadow of stability to her ever real, frightening situation. Shilon was useful to the elders, so whatever his reason, she would comply.

      A great sigh escaped her unbidden. Glenfel was tired. She found herself wishing not for the last time to be back within the Maralan Forest. She was welcome and at home there. A sudden movement at the main entrance to the tavern drew her gaze. It brought her attention back to the reality of her present situation. Tight, enclosed places made her weak, and vulnerable. Glenfel centered her thoughts on leaving.

      A young human had entered through the main doors. He did not even hesitate slightly. Brazenly, in fact, he half walked, half ran straight to Glenfel’s table and heavily sat down. This youths astounding arrogance puzzled her somewhat. He could not likely have been more than eighteen to twenty seasons at most. His looks were plain as stone. The clothes on his back were filthy and worn. They marked him as no more than a simple peasant. His breath came in short gasps, and he smelled of sweat even with the cold outside. He must have run here, from some considerable distance away.

      Glenfel was aware that the hunters openly watched now, both the young stranger and herself. The facade of just being patrons of the same tavern was gone completely. They like Glenfel were also puzzled by this newcomer and his offensive, pretentiousness. However, no one else in the inn noticed or even seemed to care. That was a blessing. Glenfel could handle the three men. Well, if she could not, she would not live to know it. Yet at the moment, she was reasonably sure of the outcome. A mob, however, was perhaps a different matter altogether. It was a good thing that the other tavern customers were lost in their own affairs.

      The tallest of the hunters met her gaze directly and sized her up with his eyes. He made no move to rise from his seat. There was an unspoken challenge held in check only by the general circumstance of the place itself. The low rumbled of people talking continued.

      Perhaps the hunters did not want a direct confrontation either? Glenfel would like to think that, but she would not depend on it. Age, experience and quick, decisive action had saved her often enough. Never let your guard down was the way she lived her life. It was the safest.

      Glenfel turned her attention back to the newcomer. Without the slightest trace of fear, the boy leaned over; picked up the mug Glenfel had been using and drank deeply. The dark wine ran down his chin and splattered slightly on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he spoke very softly, whispered words only Glenfel could hear, Shilon is dead. He died several hours ago. He was murdered, I am sure. He paused for a moment and took another drink. Then he continued, It was made to look like an animal did it. There is a large group of men forming to go on a hunt. You are no longer safe here even in Salor.

      The runner immediately began thinking of all the ways leading out of Salor. She regretted agreeing to be here at all. That was past. Now was the time to do something. That was way better than sitting here. The young man grasped her wrist from across the table. I believe it was set up on purpose. No one really liked Shilon, and most would never miss him. The boy seemed personally angry. The people here are only looking for reasons to release their hatred. The thirst for blood toward the breeds in this town is great. He took a breath. A man named Ponar, head of the Teekmar itself is leading them. You need to understand, he has a history with your kind. The man would take any opportunity to deal out a little personal justice. They will come here soon. You must leave, and leave now! He released her.

      Do you know if the main gates to the town have been blocked as yet? Glenfel's voice was low and measured in response. She did not panic easy but knew it would not be a simple task to get out. Glenfel had also moved closer to peer into his eyes. He was telling the truth, of that fact she was sure.

      Yes, they have. But there is a way. I shall go with you! The young man was no longer a child in her eyes. He stood. Before Glenfel could voice her objections to his company, he turned and started for the door. Moving swiftly behind him, they found themselves outside, together. They began walking quickly toward the stables. To Glenfel’s surprise, no one had moved to stop them. Glenfel breathed a sigh that at least they were no longer within the walls of the Boar. The icy winter mist had claimed the streets with a dark, gray blanket filled with empty ghostly shapes. She found herself thankful for its cold hand and bleak, unfriendly presence. It would obscure their passing to the unwary eye.

      The hunters within the tavern stopped puzzling over the reason any human would be with the creature. They exchanged a few harsh words amongst themselves and quickly recovered their weapons. All the movement between Glenfel, the kid and the hunters themselves had finally caught the attention of the other patrons. None, however, would get in any slaver's path. A hushed silence fell as the three men were watched with interest as they left. Several moments later, the low whispers and general talk resumed.

      Clara smiled slightly. She was glad to see them go. The animal was one thing, but the hunters were somehow more, wrank in her mind than ten half-breeds. Not pausing to give it much more than a single thought she loaded her tray and returned to serving those still left in the place. Finally clearing the table where the mutant had sat, Clara noted there were two extra copper coins next to the empty mug. The woman stopped for a moment, glanced toward the kitchen and then slipped them into the pocket of her skirt. In a way, it did not amaze her at all that the young woman had been kind enough to leave a tip. Clara had seen all types come and go through the old tavern. The young woman may have been different, but the old wench could tell she had more class than most. Clara could not say the same about the hunters after cleaning up the mess they left behind. Quickly she moved on about her business. It really wasn't her place to judge, after all, just to do her job. So she got back to it.

      Home

      Chapter Two-The Mob

      Approaching from the main street toward the tavern was a large mob of people. Their voices carried loudly and echoed slightly within the mist. It was a trick of the night, but the effect intensified the tangible, hatred that permeated the air. Turning, Tram the tallest and most adept of the three hunters', detected the animal and the human retreating behind the far buildings. The mob had missed them entirely. The crowd had, but he had not and would not. A sick grin danced across his scarred features. An idea struck him. The big man jumped quickly into the main-way, much to the surprise of the other two hunters, Marlo and Chalt. He yelled loudly, "The mutant escaped! The evil thing attacked me. It tried to rob and murder me. My

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