Read The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons for Free Online

Chazzrynn.
    The bartender picked up his cheap wine bottle and glass, tucked it under the bar on a shelf designated just for him here at the Trade River Tavern. Timber thought about what the people say about this one, nothing good mostly. They tell stories, rumors for sure, that he was a knight of the kingdom once, and that he lost his family to the ogre war, and also that he’d been run out almost every city in Chazzrynn this side of Addisonia. Vallakazz, Elcram, Silverbridge, Thoranak, and a host of smaller towns as well have said riddance to this drunk one, that’s what the regulars and a few traders say anyway. Timber smiled, knowing in all his years owning this place, at least twenty now, that half of what people say, whether elven, human, dwarven, whatever breed or nation, has been spun a dozen times and dipped in ale before it hits the floor of this little tavern. If the old pine walls could tell tales, the barkeep thought and smiled again, hell, he’d be rich if a silver coin he had for half of them.
    Timber ran his fingers through what little black and gray hair he had left on his head, scratched his rough beard, and knelt down next to James. He looked him over quick, yes, the sword was there, shield along the back wall. He lifted the drunken knight over his shoulder, holding his breath in for energy, grabbed the shield with his left hand, and turned toward the stairs, breathing out finally when he had gotten himself and his load up again. Up the stairs, to the extra room across from his own, and he flopped the man onto the soft bed. Winded, red faced from exertion, Timber looked about the room, the room that his brother had stayed in when he had first bought the place from an old dwarf that was bent on retiring and heading north to warmer climes. His brother had died in a battle, served in the regular army of Chazzrynn. Timber often wondered if this one was in that ogre war twelve or thirteen years ago to the south and west of here. Either way, the old barkeep thought, he did not really need to know, and James did not talk of his past. He guessed things were as they were supposed to be. “Good night Sir James.” Said the man, and he went to his room, closing the door on yet another evening with this one as his last customer and only person left to talk to. He smiled as he laid into bed, thinking that the one person he has spent more time with in the last decade, barely would remember any of it.
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    James rolled in the bed, sweating, shaking, desperately craving water, and the banging on the door would not cease. Did they not know how early it was, that he hadn’t eaten ? The knight thought, “Whoever it is had better have strong and important reason and purpose.”
    The door opened. Still reeking of wine, James looked with one eye as he stumbled to a stand, hand on his broadsword. Farmer Reese Longhale, hopefully this had to do with ogre business and not anything with his daughter , he thought. The other eye tried to open as James relaxed his stance and looked for his shield. His body ached from wearing his chain armor all day and night, stomach hurt from no food, and his head was pounding as the blood seemed to claw it’s way painfully to the top and remind him that he had not had a drink yet this morning.
    “Andellis, I paid you well in advance, fifty silvers, and let ye stay at my home for a week there. Last night, one farmhand, a sheep, and three cattle went missing. Care to take care of it, or should we get the Seneschal of Hurne involved here?” Reese spoke calmly, but with ultimatum that was irrefutable. James thought a moment, looking at the old but strong grayed man, there might have been two ogre out south of here near that hill, but it was fuzzy in his head.
    “On my way now Reese, a thousand apologies in advance. I had hoped killing the one would put the fear of God into the other, usually does.” spoke the haggard warrior with truth and resolution in his weary voice.