Read Online The Beast of Maug Maurai, Part One: The Culling by Roberto Calas - Free Book Online

Sir Jastyn shrug out of his spaulders.
    Sir Jastyn was young. Scarcely twenty
if Grae had to guess. He was average in height, strong of build and had swirls
of brown hair that curled down into his eyes. That he was handsome was
indisputable. Expressive brown eyes, high forehead, narrow cheekbones. He was
the very symbol of nobility. Grae hated him immediately.
    “Hello Maribrae.” Sir Jastyn’s voice
was one that had been nurtured on the finest that the world had to offer. The
Standards officer corps was full of men like Sir Jastyn. “Brig Barragns? So
sorry for the cold welcome. We were not expecting you until tomorrow or the
next.”
    “The welcome was warm enough,” said
Grae. “Your songmaiden made us at home.”
     “Shall we walk for a moment?”  Sir
Jastyn put a hand on Grae’s shoulder and Grae did his best not to flinch.
“There are things I would discuss with you, if you’re agreeable to it.”
    “Of course, my lord.”
    “No need to stand on tradition.
Please, call me Jastyn. Come.” He motioned for Grae to follow him. They fell
into step beside Sir Jastyn, as did Maribrae. Hammer and Grae stopped and
glanced at her. The young noble turned to his songmaiden. “Mari, would you
excuse us for a bit?”
     “I would,” She sat down cross-legged
on the grass and began plucking at clovers. She looked up with a smile. “I
excuse you for not allowing me to walk with you.”
     Jastyn chuckled and started off
again with Grae and Hammer beside him. Grae motioned back toward Maribrae. “Is
your songmaiden always so brash, my lord?”
    “No,” Jastyn answered. “Sometimes
she’s asleep.”
    The wistful smile on the knight’s
face turned guarded after a few paces. “I must apologize for the abruptness of
what I am about to say. I have asked Duke Mulbrey to include me in your
expedition.” Neither Grae nor Hammer spoke, so he continued. “The Whitewinds
have had their differences with the Duke, but he is our liege. He understands
that much of this Beast’s hunting grounds are Whitewind holdings. So he said I
was welcome to join. But I would ask your permission. I do not want to do it if
I do not have your blessing.”
    Grae stared at a point far ahead of
him as he spoke. “I mean no disrespect, my lord, but why would you want to join
this expedition? It would be impossible to vouch for your safety or guarantee
your return.”
    “I understand the perils,” said
Jastyn. “But this Beast, this terror of Nuldryn, has ravaged my family’s lands
for more than a decade. Nearly one hundred of our serfs have been taken by this
cruel monster over the last decade. I, myself, hear its cries at night. They
echo across my chamber like a personal challenge.
    “My father is the second brother of
the Count of Tyftin. I am the third son of a third son. I am dizzyingly far
from any sort of meaningful inheritance. There won’t be any castle estates for
me. No choice lands in my future. In fact, I stand about as much chance of
ruling as you do. No disrespect intended.”
    It was a moment before Grae answered.
“Nor taken, my lord.”
    “Do you see where I’m headed, Grae?
There is no chance for me to make any sort of name for myself. No chance to
show our vassals my worth. To them, I am simply Jastyn the Unknown.” He walked
a few steps in silence. “I suppose I could become an officer in the Standards,
or perhaps a Lancer if I train hard enough. If lucky, I might scrape out a few
victories on the front. Or perhaps I’d die in my first action. A wonderful
history for my songmaiden to sing.” He motioned in the air with his hand. “My
deathstone: ‘Here be Jastyn the Insignificant. Third son of a third son of
someone moderately important. He died in an unnamed field, during an ambiguous
battle of a meaningless war.”
    “Begging your pardon, m’lord,” said
Hammer, knowing the look on Grae’s face. “But if ya came with us, your
deathstone would likely read, ‘ ‘ere be Sir Jastyn Whitewind. Third