A Warden Born

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A Warden Born Page 16

by Paul Summerhayes


  Mordan was now visible.

  The goblins, no match for an alp, squeaked in fear and scurried down the mountain to the east. The tall alp stood still and looked at Finn with his bloody hand still raised. Without saying a word, he bent down and picked up his black sword.

  “Good timing,” said Finn nervously.

  “I waited for my sword, mortal,” the alp’s voice was cold and distance, “and I do not like to wait.”

  “I was going to give it back, but I didn’t know where you were.” Mordan stood silently, a gentle breeze tugged at his black robes. He appeared to be waiting for Finn to continue. Nervously, Finn said, “Our agreement is complete. Does that mean you will kill me now?”

  Mordan laughed. “You mortals are so amusing. If I wanted you dead, I would have done it, already. You may live, for now.” He took a step forward and the eldon moved back. “Where is the girl?”

  “Why?”

  “Where?” he demanded as he stepped over Krulta’s corpse.

  Anna sat up. “What’s happening, Finn?” Finn looked at her.

  “She is asleep in those blankets,” Mordan decided.

  “No, she’s behind you and preparing to blast you into a million pieces.”

  Mordan laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “I don’t know why, mortal, but I like you.” Finn was not comforted by this. The tall alp turned toward Anna, “Daughter of the First Born, your blood and your ancestry make you special. Many will seek you out to use you for their gain—or to kill you out of fear. You have many enemies and you will need protection, until you are powerful enough to defend yourself.” He continued to stare at her, which was unnerving, since Finn knew he could not see her. “I offer you my service.”

  “What?” Finn asked in disbelief.

  “What does he mean by his service?” asked Anna. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her blanket, obviously scared of the alp.

  He scared Finn, as well. “Why would an immortal like you want to help us?”

  Mordan looked at Finn. “Not you!” He turned back to Anna. “I will protect the daughter of the First Born, in exchange for her assistance.” Both mortals looked confused, so the alp continued, “I need her power to regain my land. My life was stolen from me by her people. It would be fitting for her to help me get it back.”

  “Why should she help you?”

  “Because I will protect her and help her gain the knowledge of her people.”

  “I will protect her. We don’t need you.”

  Mordan laughed again. “You? You could not defeat a goblin without my sword.”

  “Then leave me your sword.”

  The alp stared Finn and was silent for many moments. “You do not know what you offer. Many know she exists and will seek her, now. They will kill anyone foolish enough to stand in their way.” He paused, as if reconsidering. “I cannot be present at all times—I have my own… agenda. Maybe she will safe for a time, if she hides, and maybe she will not.” Mordan threw the black sword to Finn, who caught it with one hand. “Look after it, mortal—and don’t use it too often, or it will change you. I will return to start her training, soon.”

  Finn looked at the sword, which felt comfortable in his hand. When he looked back up, the alp was gone.

  Anna asked, “What does all this mean?”

  “I think it means that we’re not destined for a quiet life.”

  “Do you think he is right about the blood of the First Born? Is my blood really magical?”

  “The master thought so and that’s why he wanted you. I believe it’s true, and there will be others who will believe it and come looking for you.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “So am I, but I will not desert you. We are in this together and I will protect you with my life.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that,” she smiled.

  Chapter 22

  Just before sunset, they arrived at Freewater’s southern gate. They had travelled straight home and had not gone to Treemere to collect their horses from The Bronze Perch Inn. They decided to get them in a day or two. There was no light on at the warden’s cottage, as they passed.

  “Looks like Garm is doing his rounds,” said Finn.

  “You must be looking forward to seeing your brother, again.”

  “Yes. I have to a lot to tell him… about Kalher’s death and that I didn’t find our father.”

  “Should we tell him about the alp and my… blood?”

  “Yes, of course. We’ll need his help. There will be people looking for you and he needs to know. He should know everything.”

  “Even about Prince Anthon?”

  “What?” He looked at her and she was smiled back.

  It’s good to be home.

  In silence, they rode the ponies along the main street to the market, where they turned toward the mayor’s residence.

  “Anna? What’s our plan? How will I protect you?”

  She laughed—it was a sound that lightened the young eldon’s heart.

  “I don’t know, Finn. Let’s worry about it tomorrow. I think I’ll be safe for one night.”

  In front of her house, they dismounted. Patch snorted and threw his head. Finn took Anna’s pack off Brownie and she took it from him. She was still the same independent person she had always been, it was one of the many things Finn admired about her.

  “I am exhausted. I need a bath, food and bed.”

  “Will we meet tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Come by my house midmorning,” she stretched up to softly kiss his cheek.

  After she’d gone inside, Finn turned to walk the ponies back down the hill—he was tired of riding. They went through the marketplace, where the merchants had almost finished packing away their wares. Kliem, the gnome, acknowledged him as he passed and Finn waved back. He picked up his pace as he neared their cottage.

  “Hey, scum! Where have you been?” yelled a voice.

  Finn turned to face the speaker and placed a hand on the black sword at his waist. A knowing smile touched his lips. As he guessed, it was Kirk Auttenburg. The blonde man stepped out of a small alley with two of friends at his side. He looked smug, as usual, and almost pleased to see Finn.

  “Well, scum? Don’t keep your betters waiting,” said Kirk, as they moved closer.

  “I suggest you walk away, Kirk. I am not in the mood for this.”

  “Well, isn’t that bad luck?”

  “Bad luck for you!” In a smooth motion, the black sword arced out of its scabbard and stopped a paper’s thickness from Kirk’s nose.

  Startled, the three thugs stumbled backward, almost falling over each other. The person in front of them was not the timid youth they’d previously bullied. Before them stood a warrior with a sword. The eldon stared at them and they back-peddled down the alley.

  “You’ll keep, warden. We’ll be back for you,” shouted Kirk.

  “Get out of here,” threatened Finn. Just like the good old days—almost.

  The three thugs turned and ran down the alley, into the darkness of the early evening, and Finn smiled as he watched them go. He sheathed his sword and led the ponies to the warden’s cottage.

  He could see a light in the front room’s window as he approached. Garm was home. The south gate was closed and the street was empty.

  Finn walked across to the stable and young Toby ran out and grabbed the reins. He took the two ponies into the stable.

  “Look after them, Toby—they have earned their rest,” said Finn, before walking across the street to the cottage. He turned the door handle, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Three men lingered in the shadow of the stable. They had been watching the wardens’ cottage for some time and saw Finn walk inside.

  “Come on, boys, let’s find an inn. I don’t think he’ll be going anywhere tonight.”

  “When do we do the job?” asked one of the men.

  “Patience. Don’t underestimate that skinny eldon,” said the leader. “I’ve seen him in
action.”

  “He doesn’t look like much.”

  “Tell that to the dead.”

  “Okay, Wolfgang, you’re the boss.”

  “Let’s get that drink. We’ll get him and the girl later.”

  The night was moonless, and the three skulked off in search of an inn.

  A dark figure watched the three men leave the stable. They’re not professionals, he thought, just thugs.

  The man broke away from the blacksmith’s building and silently tailed the men. He moved from shadow to shadow closely enough that he could have stolen their money without them knowing. A lifetime of experience had taught him that they would never see him come—or go.

  He toyed with the thought of simplifying things and killing them, but life was never that simple. If it was, he would still be enjoying a quiet life high in the northern mountains.

  If they found me there, they could find me here, he thought.

  His mission was not murder, tonight. It was more personal.

  “We’ll meet again soon, my sons.”

  Thank you for reading A Warden Born. If you enjoyed it, could you please leave a review, I would appreciate it.

  If you would like to read more about the wardens, book 2, A Warden’s Duty will be published late 2016.

  To keep up to date with all my new releases, you can sign up for my newsletter at: http://www.paulsummerhayes.com/

 

 

 


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