Read Online Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) by Trevor H. Cooley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Trevor H. Cooley
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the laces on the front of his sheepskin coat. He was wearing it over a chainmail vest and the metal would grow cold quickly if he didn’t keep the coat tightly sealed.
He continued down the road and passed through the short stretch of forest between the keep and the farmlands. His patrol route would take him along the eastern perimeter of the farms, a stretch of many miles. It would take up a big chunk of the day, but he’d also have time to think.
Willum had been volunteering for patrol duty most mornings lately. The keep still kept to Coal’s rules, which meant that everybody did a full day’s work to pay for their food and lodging. There were only so many jobs to do around the place and Willum found most of them monotonous. Not that patrolling was much better but it was a quiet job. Not much happened here. The king’s men watched the roads leading to the farms and word had got out that the people here were protected. There hadn’t been a bandit raid in years and with the training Benjo had been putting the workers through the past year, most of the people could defend themselves if need be.
Willum reminded himself that was a good thing. The farmers should be able to live in peace without fear of danger coming in. Wasn’t that what good people wanted? That’s what Willum wanted, wasn’t it? And what better place to do it than under the protection of Coal’s Keep?
After all, he had lived here most of his life. Master Coal had bonded with him and brought him back there to live with him when Willum was only four. His real parents were dead, executed by the other Dremaldrian nobility, but to Willum, Coal became his real father and Coal’s wife, Becca, his mother. With Coal’s other bonded added in, he’d had a family. Sure, Bettie the half-orc blacksmith and Samson the rogue horse centaur made for an odd brother and sister, but nonetheless he’d had a good strong family.
Willum had spent his childhood learning to mold the land. Coal pushed them hard. Till the earth. Plant your crops. Weed them. Water them. Protect them from pests. Then after a long and hard summer, reap your rewards. Those had been good years.
Then when Willum got a bit older, some of the men had taught him to fight. He’d taken to it right away, impressing everyone enough that when he had turned sixteen, he’d been encouraged to travel to Dremaldria and enter the academy. That had been five years ago. In that time he’d seen so much; so many horrible things. He’d been through war. He’d seen friends die all around him. He was only twenty one, but he felt much older.
That was it, he told himself. That’s why he needed Coal’s Keep. He walked out of the forest and the wide expanse of the farms opened up in front of him. Miles of fenced pasture and cultivated farmland. It was a good place. A wonderful place to be. To live. Coal had the right idea. This was the kind of life he could live forever.
“ Are you trying to be content again ?” asked Theodore, the imp that lived in Willum’s axe.
“What are you talking about? I was just remembering how much I love this place,” Willum said. He had been wondering when it would speak up. The demon had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning.
“ Ho-ho. I don’t think so, Willy ,” it replied. The imp’s voice sounded different in Willum’s mind than Tolivar’s. He could hear it in his ears as if the imp was standing right next to him. “ You might have been trying to convince yourself of that, but you don’t love it here .”
“You don’t know what I was thinking.” His statement was technically true. Their connection wasn’t as strong as the bond he had with Tolivar. The imp could feel his emotions but it couldn’t hear his thoughts unless he wanted it to.
“ Tsk! I don’t need to know your exact thoughts! Ho, your feelings shout out to me. You are as tired of this place as I am .”
“What are you talking about?” Willum gestured at the sprawling brown and white
He continued down the road and passed through the short stretch of forest between the keep and the farmlands. His patrol route would take him along the eastern perimeter of the farms, a stretch of many miles. It would take up a big chunk of the day, but he’d also have time to think.
Willum had been volunteering for patrol duty most mornings lately. The keep still kept to Coal’s rules, which meant that everybody did a full day’s work to pay for their food and lodging. There were only so many jobs to do around the place and Willum found most of them monotonous. Not that patrolling was much better but it was a quiet job. Not much happened here. The king’s men watched the roads leading to the farms and word had got out that the people here were protected. There hadn’t been a bandit raid in years and with the training Benjo had been putting the workers through the past year, most of the people could defend themselves if need be.
Willum reminded himself that was a good thing. The farmers should be able to live in peace without fear of danger coming in. Wasn’t that what good people wanted? That’s what Willum wanted, wasn’t it? And what better place to do it than under the protection of Coal’s Keep?
After all, he had lived here most of his life. Master Coal had bonded with him and brought him back there to live with him when Willum was only four. His real parents were dead, executed by the other Dremaldrian nobility, but to Willum, Coal became his real father and Coal’s wife, Becca, his mother. With Coal’s other bonded added in, he’d had a family. Sure, Bettie the half-orc blacksmith and Samson the rogue horse centaur made for an odd brother and sister, but nonetheless he’d had a good strong family.
Willum had spent his childhood learning to mold the land. Coal pushed them hard. Till the earth. Plant your crops. Weed them. Water them. Protect them from pests. Then after a long and hard summer, reap your rewards. Those had been good years.
Then when Willum got a bit older, some of the men had taught him to fight. He’d taken to it right away, impressing everyone enough that when he had turned sixteen, he’d been encouraged to travel to Dremaldria and enter the academy. That had been five years ago. In that time he’d seen so much; so many horrible things. He’d been through war. He’d seen friends die all around him. He was only twenty one, but he felt much older.
That was it, he told himself. That’s why he needed Coal’s Keep. He walked out of the forest and the wide expanse of the farms opened up in front of him. Miles of fenced pasture and cultivated farmland. It was a good place. A wonderful place to be. To live. Coal had the right idea. This was the kind of life he could live forever.
“ Are you trying to be content again ?” asked Theodore, the imp that lived in Willum’s axe.
“What are you talking about? I was just remembering how much I love this place,” Willum said. He had been wondering when it would speak up. The demon had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning.
“ Ho-ho. I don’t think so, Willy ,” it replied. The imp’s voice sounded different in Willum’s mind than Tolivar’s. He could hear it in his ears as if the imp was standing right next to him. “ You might have been trying to convince yourself of that, but you don’t love it here .”
“You don’t know what I was thinking.” His statement was technically true. Their connection wasn’t as strong as the bond he had with Tolivar. The imp could feel his emotions but it couldn’t hear his thoughts unless he wanted it to.
“ Tsk! I don’t need to know your exact thoughts! Ho, your feelings shout out to me. You are as tired of this place as I am .”
“What are you talking about?” Willum gestured at the sprawling brown and white
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