The Promised Ones: The Milward Chronicles, #1

By Robert Lee Beers

He is the last of the wizards.

Milward survived the Magik Wars by the narrowest of margins. Just beginning his life among the magik users, his teacher was blasted into nonexistence by Gilgafed the Sorcerer during the fighting and he had to learn about this power on his own.

As history has it, he became friendly with the enigmatic race of dragons, gigantic creatures able to smell magik, and, according to myth, once sailed the stars. Befriended by Labad, the last great Emperor, Milward became the one to watch over the royal household until Labad's prophecy is fulfilled.

Heroes become legend. Legend becomes myth and empires decay as most men fail in their oaths.

Sorcerers never forgive.

Adam and Charity are about to find themselves in the middle of events that will shake the foundations of the empire. Moreover, if Labad's prophesy is right, the twins are the only ones with the power to save the world from annihilation. Milward has read the prophecy, he thinks. He has a copy, but the original has been lost for over a thousand years. That remains hidden with the dwarves, a people who would not share a secret if their lives depended on it—and it does.

The original is given to the twins, along with Labad's weapons, and, though they don't know it yet, his abilities. Gilgafed is aware of this. It was partly due to his machinations that the empire crumbled. He plans to complete that destruction at all costs.

The twins have to live if the empire is to survive. The barrier between this world and the shadow is beginning to thin, and Adam and Charity must face all the terrors the Sorcerer can bring to bear while Milward is forbidden to interfere.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Beers
• Release date: Nov 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393996309

Robert Lee Beers

Robert Lee Beers (born 1951 is an author and an artist involved in graphic arts, illustration and fine art. Originally from Eureka, California, Beers attended Arcata High School and Humboldt State College. He currently resides in Topeka, Kansas. Bob was first elected to the Nevada Assembly in November 2006. As an Assemblyman, Bob Beers was nominated to be a recipient of the JFK Profiles in Courage Award. Bob is a recipient of the Bank of America Award in Art and was the Humboldt-Del Norte champion in the high hurdles in 1969. After leaving office, Bob Beers became a licensed mediator for the Nevada Supreme Court’s Foreclosure Mediation Program. Upon retiring he was the most successful mediator of his type in the nation, compiling an agreement rate nearing 85%. Bob continues to write, and to paint. His Tony Mandolin Mystery series has ten completed novels and several short stories. The first four novels were produced into full-cast audio dramas by Graphic Audio Publishers.As an artist, Bob is an accomplished painter of portraits, both human and pet, and in producing landscapes that capture the chosen scene with incredible depth and clarity.

Book preview

Chapter 1

F ight! Fight!

The shouted words drew the two passing watchmen to the clearing just off the southeastern edge of the site of the village fair. Once through the bordering oaks, they saw the crowd of children clustered around two boys, both covered with the dust and leaves from the clearing floor. The heavier of the two, dark-haired and well-dressed sported a mouse under his left eye, the smaller, sandy-blonde and dressed in homespun, had a bloody nose.

Punch him again, Darzin! One of the boys in the crowd called out.

Darzin, the heavier boy, smirked in answer.

The two antagonists circled each other, fists balled.

You’re for it now, Adam, Darzin muttered. I’m gonna bloody the other one.

What, I’ve got more than one nose, pig-face? Adam retorted.

Darzin’s face darkened and he rushed Adam, bull-like with his head down.

Adam slid to the side and stuck out a foot. Darzin tripped and went sprawling.

Cheat! A few of Darzin’s friends called out the objection.

What’s the matter, Darzin, Adam asked, as he danced out of the way of another charge, All those big meals slowing you down?

Stand still ragpicker! Darzin charged again, swinging his fists.

One of the swings caught Adam a glancing blow on his right temple, sending him to the ground.

Darzin yelled out in triumph and fell upon Adam, fists flying.

A girl flew out of the crowd and plowed into Darzin, knocking him off of Adam.

The crowd froze for a second and then several of the children supporting Darzin joined in.

The two watchmen, standing just outside of the crowd, stepped into the fray, blowing their whistles. Bodies scattered, most of the children running off toward the village.

Come on you lot, break it up. I said, break it up! Garran, the older of the two watchmen, grabbed each of the boys by the scruff of the neck and lifted them off the ground.

Darzin and Adam, why am I not surprised, Segren, the younger watchman, chuckled, shaking his head, Didn’t we hear about another fight just last week?

Put me down! Darzin struggled to free himself. My father’ll take your jobs for this!

We don’t work for your father, brat, we work for the Baron, and the last I heard a Mayor doesn’t tell a Baron what to do. Garran lowered the boys to the ground. All right, what’s this about, as if I didn’t know already?

The usual, Adam muttered.

Segren reached out and placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, preventing him from moving toward Darzin.

Garran took hold of Darzin’s arm.

You shut your mouth, ragpicker, Darzin said angrily. I'll teach you to keep your place. He struggled against the hold the watchman had on his arm.

Adam lunged forward, nearly tearing loose from Segren’s grasp. The sound of ripping homespun followed his attempt.

You leave my brother alone. That pig Darzin started it!

The watchmen turned to see a young girl, her fists on her hips, long blonde hair full of leaves and twigs, glaring at them. She bore a striking resemblance to Adam.

Garran shook his head. Young Charity, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were in on the fighting.

She blushed, dropping her eyes and then raising them defiantly. "Well, it wasn’t fair! Darzin and his friends, she twisted the word, ambushed us just because Adam won the race and I won the archery. We had every right to win. Just because they have more than us, and his father’s the Mayor, He thinks he has to win at everything." Her eyes shot daggers at Darzin.

Garran glanced at Segren. That’s right; they began the spring faire trials last week. I had to be down in Meyer then. Did you make it?

No, the Baron had me patrolling up north, near the borders of the dwarflands. I hear they just finished the last of the trials today. I could get a wager in. By the way, I forgot, there’s been a sighting of Garlocs up north the past couple of months.

That’s not good, Garran shook his head. Tell you what, how about we take these two scufflers up there and use ‘em as bait.

Don’t you dare! Charity took a step forward as Adam and Darzin both cringed.

Ease off, missy, Garran held up a hand, releasing Darzin who took off as if Hel’s pit itself was after him.

Look what you did! Charity accused, You let him go!

Yes, I did, The watchman dropped to one knee so he could look Charity in the eye, And I’m also going to let the two of you go. There is no law against children getting into a dust-up now and then as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. This one looked like it might, so we stepped in.

I could have taken him, Adam muttered, Even if he is bigger than me.

Segren grunted, But could you take the six we saw pile in?

They’re always like that, Charity spat. Bullies! Just because we don’t have the money they do.

Adam growled, I should have blackened his other eye. I can beat him at the games, I know I can, even if he doesn’t like it.

You’ll have your chance during the faire, Segren said, approvingly. I’ve no doubt you’ll do well. Who knows maybe someday the two of you’ll become friends.

Garran grunted at the expressions of disgust that crossed the twins’ faces, Run along home now. Fun’s over.

Adam looked at Charity. I could have taken him, he repeated.

Charity smiled back, We both could.

BERI, LOCATED ON ONE of the ‘fingers," a series of fertile peninsulas jutting into the northwestern sea, was a picturesque village on the outer fringes of the Firth Barony. The peninsulas consisted of low rolling pasturelands and forests thick with trees. To the north of Beri, lay the Dwarflands, and to the southeast, the Circle Sea. Beyond that natural barrier, most of the folk living in the Barony had little desire to explore.

Adam and Charity sat near the lower end of the Beri social hierarchy because of two primary factors, they were orphans, and their aunt and uncle were of the working poor. Instead of shiny new shoes and starched linen, the twins wore hand-me-downs and sturdy homespun. Instead of white bread and butcher-cut meat, they ate brown bread and what their uncle brought home from the forest.

The rivalry between Adam and Charity and the Lord Mayor’s only boy, Darzin had been a fixture of their lives for as long as they could remember. Darzin’s family had money, power, and position, whereas Adam and Charity did not. In a class-based society, that was nearly everything.

Charity was correct in her assessment of Darzin. Like most spoiled children, he considered any denial of what he desired, regardless of his current ownership, to be a violation of his rights.

Larger than most of the children his age, he ran to fat and had little interest in the lessons taught at the village schoolhouse. Because his father was the Lord Mayor, he used that position to gain whatever advantage he could, fair or otherwise.

The unforgivable sin of the twins as far as Darzin and his friends were concerned, was that Adam and Charity were bright, reasonably good-looking, and very capable at sports and letters, regardless of their lack of coin. This made the letters-ignorant Darzin even more biased against them.

By proclamation, the school was for all citizens in the Barony, regardless of station. When the Baron issued his order, it was not accepted well by many of the wealthier families in the Fingers, but the Baron held fast. He reasoned that an educated population would do better than one based on ignorance.

Since that day all children in the Barony had access to education, regardless of their station in society.

The ignition point of the fight came when Darzin lost to Charity in the archery preliminaries. According to him, girls were not supposed to be able to beat boys at anything, especially field sports. Adam set the blaze alight when he handily won the foot race later that day.

Beri’s spring faire culminated a weeklong period of preparation consisting of decorating the town square with garlands, buntings, and assorted cuttings of early flowers. The fields to the west of town were prepared for the sporting contests; foot races, horsemanship, and archery. Fencing and quarterstaff contests happened on an elevated stage in the town square.

Preliminary competitions for the town’s children occupied the mornings throughout the week, leading up to the day of the faire.

Adam and Charity moved easily through the early stages, winning their heats by fair margins.

ON THE MORNING BEFORE the finals, one of Darzin’s friends, Guss, a boy even larger and thicker than Darzin, approached Adam and Charity separately, suggesting that it would be better for them if they allowed their betters to take the prizes.

...and then he said if I let Darzin win— Adam strangled on the last of the sentence, his face reddening with fury.

I wish they’d let girls box, Charity growled, I’d blacken his eyes to where he wouldn’t see for a week.

Well, I’m not going to do it, Adam stated, a stubborn set coming to his jaw.

Do what, box? You fight Darzin nearly every day. Charity smiled.

Adam stared at his sister and then grinned, sheepishly. No, silly, I mean let him win. I’m not going to do it.

Charity hefted the sling Uncle Bal had made for her the previous summer. She had developed a good eye and usually hit what she aimed for. I’ll give him a rock to his bottom if he tries cheating, she declared.

Adam flexed his wrist, No, let him try. I’ve got an idea...

He twiddled with his lucky rock—a piece of polished agate, flat and disk-shaped. It had been with him for as long as he knew and hung from his neck on a length of leather thong. His Aunt had told him it was with him when he and his twin had come to them.

THE DAY OF THE FAIRE dawned bright and clear, but an early fog that rolled in from the ocean just after sunrise dampened everyone’s spirits. It lay across the town like a thick chill blanket, making even the task of carrying stools to the speakers’ platform a trek fraught with danger. One unlucky villager, his arms full of stools for the seating area, made a wrong turn in the fog and wound up face down in a pigsty.

As the morning moved on, and the thick, opaque fog showed no sign of dissipating, Colvin, the Lord Mayor, was almost at the point of canceling the day’s festivities when a ray of sun broke through. Soon the thinning of the fog was apparent to everyone, and with a cheer, the faire opened.

After the speeches, the final contests began with the children’s archery being the first. Large circular straw pads sat thirty paces from the firing line, resting on tripod easels. Painted sheets with concentric rings of yellow, red, and black comprised the targets.

Six children, five boys, and one girl, Charity, made up the final contestants. Adam, not really interested in archery, had opted not to compete, though he felt he was nearly as good as his twin when it came to placing an arrow. The contestants stood, left toe just behind the firing line, bows in the left hand and their first arrow in their right.

Each bow bore a colored ribbon, each color different for each contestant.

Two of the boys, a few years older than the others had excelled during the early rounds like Charity. One of them, Dayne, a redhead with a striking crop of freckles had matched her score for score. The others, including Darzin, had done well enough to place in the finals but Adam felt Charity’s only true competition would come from Dayne.

Adam stood with Aunt Doreen and Uncle Bal just on the other side of the rope barrier that separated the crowd from the contestants. A number of the crowd held tokens, bundled cloth streamers dyed the color of the archer they supported. Many in the crowd called out his or her favorite’s name, adding a wish for good luck. The hubbub blended with the sound of the band tuning up in the background. Darzin’s parents stood just behind their son, the Mayor’s voice booming out above the rest of the crowd as he urged his boy to shoot straight and to shoot well.

With a fanfare from the band, a courtier of the Baron stepped onto the grass of the archery range. The man fit into the look of the townsfolk like a rose sprouting from a dung heap. The finery of his clothing made even the Mayor’s attire appear shabby in comparison. He held up a scroll and unrolled it at arm's length.

Good people of the township of Beri, The courtier’s voice was as cultured as his clothing but higher than a normal man’s, By the authority vested in me by the Lord Baron, I present you the children’s’ archery final contest. The winner of the contest will be presented with a newly minted silver mark from the Baron’s own treasury.

A grand cheer erupted from the crowd.

Second place will be awarded a newly minted copper mark from the Baron’s own treasury.

This received another cheer, muted somewhat from the previous.

There will be no prize given for third place.

This statement elicited no cheer. A few murmurs and a grumble ran through the crowd. All the previous years there had been prizes for the first three places in every contest and second place had been a half silver mark, not a mere copper.

The courtier seemed unruffled by the grumbling. The contest will be carried out in three stages. Stage one will consist of a flight of three arrows for each contestant. The top four scorers will advance to the second stage. Stage two will also consist of a flight of three arrows. The top two contestants will advance to the final stage which will consist of a flight of...

Three arrows!

The courtier sniffed at the crowds’ interruption, cleared his throat, and stepped back until he was to the far right-hand side of the firing line. You may begin.

Charity placed all three of her arrows into the yellow and so did the two older boys. Charity’s grouping was slightly less tight than that of the redheaded boy. Darzin’s last arrow missed the yellow by a finger width, but it was good enough to put him into the second round.

Adam cheered along with his Aunt and Uncle after the stage was over. He yelled out, Great shooting Charity, well done!

He noticed Darzin scowl at Charity and then motion with his free hand to one of his friends. The two boys held a brief huddled conversation and then the friend, Guss made his way through the crowd until he stood behind the redheaded boy. He called out to the boy and then made a motion with his thumb toward Darzin. The redhead looked toward Darzin and then nodded. Guss’s broad face took on a smug expression and then he stepped back into the crowd. Adam called out to Charity and motioned her over.

What is it? They’re almost done moving the targets back for the next stage. Charity pointed with the bow, a scaled-down version of a northern longbow. The men helping with the contest were busy moving the targets another ten paces downrange.

Adam indicated the redhead with a nod of his chin, Dayne over there was told something by Guss. I think he’s going to lose this stage on purpose so Darzin can win.

That’s not fair, and he shouldn’t do that. Dayne could win this if he tried, Charity exclaimed.

He’s afraid, that’s why. His father works for one of the Mayor’s businesses. I overheard Uncle Bal talking about him with one of the other workers at the carpenter shop. Adam fingered his rock; The Mayor doesn’t like it when someone beats Darzin.

Charity sniffed dismissively, Too bad, ‘cause I’m going to do the best I can and Darzin couldn’t beat me on my worst day.

Uh oh, Adam cautioned, Here comes Guss. Better get back to the line.

Guss came around the small knot of adults that included Bal and Doreen as Charity retook her place at the firing line. He stood about a half a head taller than Adam and Charity and outweighed Adam by a good stone.

Darzin has a message for your sis, ragpicker, Guss growled

Are you sure you remember it, rocks-for-brains? Adam said lightly.

Inwardly his stomach began to knot and he could feel the beginning of a tremble as his body prepared for a fight.

Guss scowled, Don’t call me that.

You started the name-calling, my name is Adam, and you know it, Adam retorted.

Guss scowled again. Adam could see he was getting confused. Guss did not like things complicated.

The larger boy said, Anyway, Darzin has a message. Your sis has to let him win.

Adam smiled, deciding to play with the larger boy Why?

Uh... Guss’ brow wrinkled, Because.

A fanfare interrupted their byplay.

Adam yelled out over the trumpets, Too late, they’ve started.

He turned away, not caring if Guss was offended or not. Thinking obviously made Guss’ head hurt.

The courtier called out, Stage two—begin!

All three of Charity’s arrows found the yellow again, and this time her grouping was even tighter than that of the first stage. Darzin had one in the yellow and two in the red. Dayne’s first arrow hit the yellow dead center. His next slid into place right next to the first and then his third missed the target entirely as he sneezed during his release.

Dayne’s father charged out of the crowd waving his hands and calling for a re-shoot of that arrow. Many in the crowd agreed but the courtier remained unmoved.

I am sorry, he said, unconvincingly, but the rule is clear—three arrows and three arrows only will be loosed in each stage by each contestant. A sneeze, however unfortunate, is not a reason to override that rule. No please clear the lists. We have one archer left to finish this stage.

He motioned Dayne’s father back to the other side of the barrier with a wave of his hand and signaled to the remaining contestant, the other boy Dayne’s age. Two of the shooter’s arrows were in the red. If he hit the yellow, he would tie Darzin and force an additional flight to see who advanced to the final stage.

The watching crowd hushed as the boy drew back his bow. He released and the arrow flew down the range. It dropped into the red just outside the yellow.

Darzin let out a yell of triumph, pumping his bow into the air even as the crowd expressed its disappointment.

Guss paid one more visit to Adam and Charity as the targets moved downrange to the final distance. He waited, chewing his lip as Bal, Doreen, and Adam congratulated Charity on her shooting. When the adults moved back into the crowd, he approached Adam. Darzin says you have to let him win.

Darzin can go jump in the creek.

Guss seemed taken aback by Adam’s defiance. ...Darzin says...

Adam moved closer until his nose was just below Guss’s, You can tell Darzin that Adam says he’ll beat him black and blue in the fencing contest, ok?

He won’t like that.

Tough.

The idea that Darzin was not going to get his way finally bloomed in Guss’s mind. He scowled and pushed Adam with his right hand, You’re looking for a fight.

Any time, Guss, I can take you any time, Adam said, and pushed back, but his Aunt saw it.

Adam! You apologize to him, right now!

He started it, Adam glared at Guss, who glared back.

Adam knew Darzin would have taken advantage of Doreen’s misjudgment of the situation. Guss was not that subtle.

Doreen reached down and took hold of Adam’s left ear. Apologize, Adam, or we go home right now and you can forget about the rest of the faire.

Adam’s jaw worked and he ground out, I’m sorry.

Good, Doreen looked at Guss, You go back to where your parents are, young man.

Cowed, Guss ran back into the crowd. Doreen sniffed and looked down at Adam. Don’t let those bullies force you into descending to their level, Adam. You are better than that.

Yes, Aunt Doreen.

The final stage will now be held, The courtier’s voice silenced the crowd and drew everyone’s eye to the archery range.

The final contestants are Master Darzin, son of Lord Mayor Colvin and the Lady Desriele... A ragged cheer rose up along with scattered applause. ...and Mistress Charity, daughter of Master Bal and the Lady Doreen.

Adam spoke over the cheers and applause, He got it wrong, Aunt Doreen.

I know Adam. I don’t mind and neither does your uncle, Doreen smiled down at her nephew.

The courtier called out again, Because of the obvious skill of the finalists, it has been asked that the targets be moved to a range of sixty paces. The final stage will consist of three arrows, shot in turn. In the event of a tie, one arrow each shall be fired in turn until that tie is broken.

Adam looked up at his Aunt. Sixty paces? That’s too far. Darzin knows Charity can’t shoot as far as he can. He’s behind this, I’m sure of it.

Or his father, Doreen agreed. She smiled, There’s nothing we can do about it, but your sister is as full of surprises as you are. Perhaps Darzin may learn a lesson.

Adam scowled blackly at his twin’s opponent. I’ll teach him a lesson, he murmured under his breath.

The courtier held up a lace handkerchief. The Lady Charity, by decree of chivalry will be the first to shoot. He bowed as he backed out of the line of fire, The Lady Charity.

Adam chuckled, Lady.

Doreen tapped his shoulder. Hush.

Charity set her arrow and drew it back until her string hand was at her ear. She aimed high because of the extra distance and released. The arrow seemed to take forever in its flight to the target. When it sank into the lower left-hand portion of the yellow, Adam could see his twin had been holding her breath.

The crowd erupted into applause, silencing only after the courtier raised his hands and called for quiet. He extended his arm and announced, Master Darzin.

Darzin scowled at Charity and then, after setting his arrow, began his elaborate warm up, rotating his head, flexing his fingers, pulling the bowstring, and then relaxing it, exaggerating each movement absurdly. After about a minute of this, he bent the bow, aimed, and released the arrow. It flew down the range and dropped into the yellow, just a bit closer to center than Charity’s had.

Again, applause erupted from the crowd. This was going to be a close contest and the crowd loved it.

Charity ignored Darzin’s smirk and pulled her next arrow from quiver. Because of the possibility of a tiebreaker that could extend for several rounds during the final, each contestant received a full dozen rather than the typical three. She set the arrow and drew back to her anchor point. After a slight adjustment based on the last shot, she released. The arrow slammed into the target dead center.

The crowd went wild. Shouts and hoots filled the range. Uncle Bal’s bellow rose over the crowd’s cheers, bringing a flush to Charity’s cheeks. She turned slightly and gave a small curtsey. Seeing Darzin’s expression, she added a dimpled smile for his benefit.

It took two attempts for the courtier to quiet the crowd. Once the noise died down, he bowed toward Darzin. Master Darzin, he proclaimed, waving a languid hand.

Darzin’s shot hit the yellow, but just barely.

As the crowd noise began to die down, Adam looked up at his Aunt and Uncle, and declared, His arm’s getting tired. I could see it shake.

Bal nodded, I know, Adam, so could I.

Doreen murmured proudly, Mayor Colvin is going to be in a very bad mood.

Bal looked at his wife, Doreen! He whispered, in a shocked tone.

Adam noticed a smile play across his Uncle’s face as he turned back to watch the match.

Mistress Charity, her final arrow. The courtier called out, sweeping his arm into a bow that grazed the sward.

Adam watched as Charity drew in a deep breath as she tested her bowstring.

Having shot with his sister many times in practice, he knew she could almost feel the target now. The sound of the murmuring crowd behind would have faded into the distant shadow of a whisper, and the bow would feel as light as an apple blossom. As he held his own breath, she drew the string back, the tip of the arrow as steady as a stone.

Yaaaa!

The scream startled Charity nearly causing her to release the arrow in a snapping jerk. Spinning around she shouted, Who did that?

It was them, Guss and the others, Adam said, pointing at Darzin’s friends. They ought to be whipped, Darzin too for putting ‘em up to it.

Darzin scrambled forward, outraged. I did not!

The Lord Mayor came to his son’s defense, blustering, How dare you accuse my son of such duplicity. I’ll have you know...

Silence! The courtier’s yell, though high-pitched, stilled the tumult. He strode forward onto the range and swept the crowd with a scowl. There will be no more of this or I will close this faire now and fine the village for the cost of holding it.

The Mayor’s face blanched.

The courtier continued, The act of interrupting a sanctioned contest for the purpose of swaying the outcome is punishable by whipping, he glanced Adam’s way, and I doubt a child this age would survive the customary ten lashes. He pointed to where Guss and Darzin’s other friends cowered in terror.

The parents of the boys cried out in dismay.

However, he went on, such a punishment would in itself violate the spirit of this faire... therefore I will absolve them of further complicity in this affair...if, he interrupted the sighs of relief with a shout, they promise to keep their little mouths shut!

Many in the crowd took an involuntary half step back.

The courtier put both hands on his hips and snorted, "Hmpph! Very well, we shall proceed. Mistress Charity?" He offered a bow and left the line of fire.

Scowling blackly at Darzin, Charity reset her arrow and turned to face the target.

"Blast that Darzin and his friends," She thought as she breathed deeply.

As Uncle Bal had taught her, she took in another breath, twice to settle her nerves. Drawing the arrow back to the anchor point, Charity had that sense of feeling the target come over her again. She released the bowstring almost languidly and turned to face the crowd, smiling. The shout that rose in the air told her all she needed to know.

Adam leaned over the barrier, his face almost split with its grin. You did it, Charity, two of ‘em, smack into the center of the yellow!

The courtier stepped back into the line of fire and signaled for silence, which he immediately got. He nodded and held out a hand, Master Darzin shall loose his final arrow.

Darzin was in a heated discussion with his father and mother. The word cheat came to the listeners, said mostly by Darzin.

Master Darzin, The Courtier’s voice could have frozen the shoreline, Am I to assume that you have decided to default this match?

The Lord Mayor shooed his son back onto the proper side of the barrier. My son shall complete the match, my lord. He merely had something to ask me. It is of no matter.

I see, the courtier’s voice gave the impression he knew exactly what had been going on. Master Darzin, he nodded and stepped back out of the line of fire.

Darzin repeated his warm-up routine and drew back the string. The tip of the arrow danced slightly as he held the nock to his ear.

Adam, watching closely saw a bead of sweat dribble down Darzin’s forehead and into his eye.

Darzin released the arrow.

Adam kept his eyes on the arrow as it flew down the field and sank into the lower left-hand side of the red. The crowd cheered and surged through the rope barrier to gather around Charity. Uncle Bal grabbed her and lifted her into the air. He held Charity out at arm’s length before placing her on his shoulders. Looking up at her with a broad smile, he said, Well done, Charity, well done, girl, indeed. You have a right to be proud this day.

AFTER CONGRATULATING his sister, Adam worked his way through the crowd to look at some of the crafters' booths lined along the western road leading out of town. The fencing matches would not begin for another hour and the two coppers Uncle Ball had given him were itching to buy a sweet pastry.

Turning off the sward onto the road, he saw Darzin and Guss standing next to the ironmonger’s booth. The clang of a hammer onto an anvil rang out every few seconds.

He did not feel like fighting, not just now, so he moved over to the far side of the road, hoping the ebb and flow of folks along the thoroughfare would shield him.

Luck was not with him. Darzin and Guss stepped into his path between the spinners and woodcarvers booths.

Going somewhere, ragpicker?

Get out of my way Darzin.

Darzin glanced at Guss and then walked toward Adam. Your sister cheated. I should have won that match.

Guss echoed, Yeah, cheated.

She wasn’t the one who almost got whipped, Adam retorted.

Guss winced and looked to Darzin for support.

Darzin’s voice faltered for a second, No...she, uh, she had to cheat. It’s the only way she could’ve won. Maybe she’s a witch, he added triumphantly.

Yeah, witch, Guss echoed again.

Adam felt the red of fury wash over his eyes. What did you say? He balled his fists and lowered his head.

Darzin took a step back; he only had one helper with him. You heard me. I’ll get you in the fencing match. You cheat there you get thrown out, ragpicker. C’mon Guss.

Bravely done youngster.

The voice behind him startled Adam and he spun around. Who?

The man was old and leaned on a walking staff with what looked like a wolf’s head carved into its top. He wore a short white beard and his long hair was tied back into a ponytail by a leather thong. His faded brown coat fell to below his knees over a thick woolen tunic and his pants, brown like the coat tucked into high dark brown boots that showed miles of wear.

He smiled down at Adam and said, My name is Nought. I am the storyteller, and I say again, bravely done. Not too many would stand up to bullies that outsize, and outnumber them.

I can handle Darzin and his friends, Adam replied. Did you say...storyteller?

That I did, young master. Will you be listening to my tales?

I sure will!

Nought nodded, Good, good. Then I will look for you in the audience. Till then, he said, bowing while leaning on the staff.

NOUGHT WATCHED ADAM as the boy moved on down the line of booths. The old man chuckled, shook his head, and then turned, walking toward the town square.

ADAM MET UP WITH CHARITY just before he reached the baker’s booth. She threw herself at him, hugging tightly. I won, I won!

You sure did. Adam hugged her back. You should have seen Darzin’s face when your last arrow hit. I thought he was going to sick up and empty his stomach right then and there.

The Baron’s man says I’ll get my prize when they hand the others out this afternoon. A whole silver mark! Can you believe it? Charity squealed with glee.

Adam laughed, We’ll have two silver marks after I get done thrashing Darzin in the fencing match.

Charity sobered. Be careful, Adam. I heard some of the girls talking. Darzin’s been practicing all winter with Dayne’s father, and he’s an ex-guardsman.

Adam puffed out his chest. Darzin’s good, he admitted, but I’m better.

And humbler, Charity jabbed him the belly with a forefinger.

Oopff! Adam’s breath rushed out of him as he bent double. When he could breathe again, he grunted, I’m gonna get you for that just as soon as this faire’s over.

Only if you can catch me, Charity laughed, and the last time you couldn’t.

Ooo, Adam rubbed his stomach. That hurt, he complained.

That’s what you get for acting like Darzin, Charity said. That’s what Aunt Doreen would say.

Adam winced and nodded. You’re right, that’s exactly what she would say.

They stopped at the baker’s booth and