Read Online Hammerhold Tales: Thrallborn by Logan Petty - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Logan Petty
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shieldling?”
He stopped in his tracks, with his mouth open, words not coming. His heart had fallen down into his stomach as her sharp words cut deeper than any whip ever had. He stood where he was, staring at the ground.
“Nothing, I'm sorry.”
She stared at the door before opening it. Her voice was softer this time.
“Me too.”
She made her way back inside, but Sawain remained rooted to the spot for several more minutes. In the back of his mind, he knew he had work to do, so he forced himself to trudge over to one end of the yard. The bucket seemed much heavier, as did his feet. He flung the contents of the bucket across the stone floor and got down on his hands and knees to begin scrubbing at the messy yard.
It was long, hard work that took him several hours and uncountable trips back to the bath house to complete. Once his chore was complete, his hands, knees, and back were aching and his pant legs were soaked and dirty. The sun was already sinking towards the horizon when Sawain put the bucket up and closed the bath house. He dragged himself inside to the main hall. The others were sitting around the table, including Syd's brother, Reisim, and Housemother Ravensoul. A banquet of fruits and meats and cheeses had been prepared and was mostly gone as Sawain Entered, standing by the door. All eyes trained on him, except for Kyra's. Axel spoke up first, before taking a draft from his mug.
“Don't just stand there, laddie! Better get some food before Rylie finishes it off!”
Rylie protested, “You've eaten more than me, Cellar-gut!”
More insults and laughter were thrown about as Sawain hesitantly found a seat. He wanted to sit as far away from Reisim as possible, without getting too close to Kyra. He picked a seat beside Syd that was a good compromise. He noticed that the elven hero liked to sit as far away from his brother as possible too. Syd greeted Sawain respectfully as he sat, grabbed a plate, and started piling slices of beef on it.
“I trust that cleaning the yard didn't wear you out too much, master Sawain. Axel has asked me to give you a lesson in tactical thinking tonight after dinner.”
Sawain looked up from his plate and swallowed the mouthful of cheddar he had just stuffed into his mouth.
“Like sword fighting?”
Syd smiled, shaking his head slightly, “No, something better.”
“What could be better than swords? Bows?” Sawain inquired.
Syd grinned. “If you are trying to flatter me, it's working. No, not bows either. It is an ancient tradition passed down from my people. I won't bore you with the elven name. In common tongue, it is called chess.”
“Chess? What kind of weapon is that? And what is its elven name? I'm just as much elf as I am human, so I want to know about both cultures.”
Syd nodded, “Chess is a weapon of the mind. My people – our people call it Otherir. It translates to conquer. It is a game of wits. I am going to teach it to you tonight.”
Sawain scratched his head, staring at his plate in silence. The concept of a game was foreign to him, so he still had no idea what to expect. Another thought crossed his mind. It just dawned on him that in order for Syd to be back, his friends must have finished their trip to Mistveil.
“Syd, how are the other freed thralls, I guess they made it to the farm safely?”
Syd nodded as he picked a grape off the cluster with his teeth.
“Aye, safe, sound, and all accounted for. We didn't have any trouble on the way back. Only took a day's journey. I trekked back in double time last night and got back right when Axel hatched his plan to clean you up. Glad I didn't stay the night at the farm as they asked. Your old friends are in good hands with Simir leading them. He's a good man.”
Sawain nodded reflectively, “Aye, he is. Did you come across any more gnolls on the way back?”
Syd hesitated before answering.
“No.”
Sawain nodded slowly. He was surprised that this news did not sadden him. In fact, he was
He stopped in his tracks, with his mouth open, words not coming. His heart had fallen down into his stomach as her sharp words cut deeper than any whip ever had. He stood where he was, staring at the ground.
“Nothing, I'm sorry.”
She stared at the door before opening it. Her voice was softer this time.
“Me too.”
She made her way back inside, but Sawain remained rooted to the spot for several more minutes. In the back of his mind, he knew he had work to do, so he forced himself to trudge over to one end of the yard. The bucket seemed much heavier, as did his feet. He flung the contents of the bucket across the stone floor and got down on his hands and knees to begin scrubbing at the messy yard.
It was long, hard work that took him several hours and uncountable trips back to the bath house to complete. Once his chore was complete, his hands, knees, and back were aching and his pant legs were soaked and dirty. The sun was already sinking towards the horizon when Sawain put the bucket up and closed the bath house. He dragged himself inside to the main hall. The others were sitting around the table, including Syd's brother, Reisim, and Housemother Ravensoul. A banquet of fruits and meats and cheeses had been prepared and was mostly gone as Sawain Entered, standing by the door. All eyes trained on him, except for Kyra's. Axel spoke up first, before taking a draft from his mug.
“Don't just stand there, laddie! Better get some food before Rylie finishes it off!”
Rylie protested, “You've eaten more than me, Cellar-gut!”
More insults and laughter were thrown about as Sawain hesitantly found a seat. He wanted to sit as far away from Reisim as possible, without getting too close to Kyra. He picked a seat beside Syd that was a good compromise. He noticed that the elven hero liked to sit as far away from his brother as possible too. Syd greeted Sawain respectfully as he sat, grabbed a plate, and started piling slices of beef on it.
“I trust that cleaning the yard didn't wear you out too much, master Sawain. Axel has asked me to give you a lesson in tactical thinking tonight after dinner.”
Sawain looked up from his plate and swallowed the mouthful of cheddar he had just stuffed into his mouth.
“Like sword fighting?”
Syd smiled, shaking his head slightly, “No, something better.”
“What could be better than swords? Bows?” Sawain inquired.
Syd grinned. “If you are trying to flatter me, it's working. No, not bows either. It is an ancient tradition passed down from my people. I won't bore you with the elven name. In common tongue, it is called chess.”
“Chess? What kind of weapon is that? And what is its elven name? I'm just as much elf as I am human, so I want to know about both cultures.”
Syd nodded, “Chess is a weapon of the mind. My people – our people call it Otherir. It translates to conquer. It is a game of wits. I am going to teach it to you tonight.”
Sawain scratched his head, staring at his plate in silence. The concept of a game was foreign to him, so he still had no idea what to expect. Another thought crossed his mind. It just dawned on him that in order for Syd to be back, his friends must have finished their trip to Mistveil.
“Syd, how are the other freed thralls, I guess they made it to the farm safely?”
Syd nodded as he picked a grape off the cluster with his teeth.
“Aye, safe, sound, and all accounted for. We didn't have any trouble on the way back. Only took a day's journey. I trekked back in double time last night and got back right when Axel hatched his plan to clean you up. Glad I didn't stay the night at the farm as they asked. Your old friends are in good hands with Simir leading them. He's a good man.”
Sawain nodded reflectively, “Aye, he is. Did you come across any more gnolls on the way back?”
Syd hesitated before answering.
“No.”
Sawain nodded slowly. He was surprised that this news did not sadden him. In fact, he was
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