Read The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion for Free Online Page A

knife that was always stuck into the back of his waistband.
    The man put both hands on the straw mattress and heaved himself into a sitting position.  Summ backed away from him, the rag still dripping.  The stranger looked around again, seeming to gather his wits.  Then, he did a most unexpected thing:  He smiled.  Broadly.
    Mattus stepped forward with Seeja directly behind him and a little to the left.  They didn’t know it then, but Taggart recognized the maneuver as being military.  The man in front would be the more formidable of the two, so he would be the primary defender should such action be required.  The man behind him was off to the left so he would not interfere with the other defender who was undoubtedly right handed.
    Taggart could not keep the smile off of his face.  He looked at all of the people in the room, saw their clothing, the uniform coloring of the hair, skin and eyes.  His eyes cut to the one window and could just make out a pinkish tint to the sky outside.  Taggart looked back at the largest man.
    “Is this Olvion?” he asked in perfect Olvioni.
    Mattus relaxed slightly.  “We are four days from the city of Olvion, but, yes this farm is in the kingdom of Olvion.”
    Taggart nodded and started to swing his legs over the side of the cot when he peeked under the light blanket and saw he was naked.  He looked up at the small knot of onlookers not knowing what to do next. Toria spoke up.
    “You were naked when I found you,” she said, coloring slightly with embarrassment.  “And we don’t have anything large enough to fit you.”
    Everyone gave a small laugh including Taggart.  He looked at the young girl.
    “And what is your name?” he asked.
    “I’m Toria.”  She turned to point to the others.  “They are my parents, that is my Aunt and Uncle and those are my brothers.”
    Taggart nodded to all of them.  He noticed them waiting for him to furnish his name.  The room was suddenly very quiet.  Taggart sighed and rubbed his eyes.  He did not really know what to expect when he revealed himself, but he owed these people his honesty.
    With as much dignity as one could muster while lying naked under a blanket in a roomful of strangers he smiled and shrugged.
    “You would know me as Tag-Gar.”
    ***
    Later that night Summ and Lonn brought him clothing that had been radically altered to fit his massive frame.  The shirt was a good fit, but the trousers were a little snug.  Taggart didn’t mind, he was just happy to be clothed again.  The family bade him to come to the main hall in the large farmhouse where meals were served.  Then they all sat to a dinner of stewed vegetables and something that tasted like pork.
    After they had eaten the women shooed the men outside to a circle of rough wooden chairs that ringed a fire pit.  Taggart tried to help light the fire, but Mattus gave the task to his two sons.
    Jost was the oldest, maybe sixteen by Taggart’s estimation.  He was a large kid, almost as tall as his father.  The younger one, Markh, was a year or so younger.  He was not going to be as tall as his brother, but his limbs were unusually thick for someone born in the thin gravity of Olvion.
    The fire soon blazed away cheerily.  The sun had set and the temperature was comfortable.  Seeja came out of the farmhouse with a clay jug and a grin on his face.
    As was polite in Olvion, the first drink of the after dinner spirit was offered to the guest.  Taggart accepted the jug and gave the spout an exploratory sniff. His face formed a grin and he pointed to the jug.
    “Is this sween?” he asked.
    Seeja nodded with a smile.
    In his previous time in Olvion, Taggart had sampled many different liquors.  Most were either as strong as straight tequila or flavored with the black licorice taste that Olvionis loved and Taggart despised.  Sween, however, was a delicious brew that was made from honey.  Taggart loved the concoction and called it “mead” after the spirit