Prologue
"Come on, boy!" spat Sir Thaddeus at his young squire, who was face down in the mud.
Edward sighed and pushed himself up. He was used to this. The orders. The tripping. Everything. He wiped the mud off his face, and picked up Sir Thaddeus' swords. Why had his father condemned him to this? It was the same every week. He and Thaddeus would trek through the woods, to go to someone else's castle. Well, after Castle Bramson was destroyed, they were always looking for some place to stay. This one time, they got to this castle with red doors, and they ate banquets every night for a week, with cake and pork and sausages and carrots...
SPLAT!
He had fallen face down in the mud again.
"Get up, you little peasant!" ordered Thaddeus. This last word was said with such venom, that Edward expected to be attacked any minute. He pushed himself up, grabbed swords and wiped off the mud. As Edward stood for a second, to collect himself and wipe off the mud, his knight turned around, strode up to him and slapped him. He saw the anger in Thaddeus' hazel eyes. He was rather handsome, with long brown hair and a pale face, but it was not noticeable with such anger etched across his face. Edward blinked, trying to take the pain without crying, but fell back with pain, weeping.
"GET UP! You are a useless piece of dirt!" Edward was angry now. He could take shouting, but he hated it when he Thaddeus hit him. He stood up, tears streaming down his rather plump face, and combed some dirt out of his sandy hair. He stopped. Thaddeus walked up to him, drawing his dagger, and breathing heavily. He swung it at Edward.
Edward was terrified. He dropped to his stomach, causing Thaddeus to catch his dagger in the tree. Thaddeus tried to pry the dagger out of the bark, and Edward, shaking like a leaf, grabbed the hilt of one of the knights sword and drew it. He stood up, nostrils flared, and swung, not caring where it landed. It hit Thaddeus in the neck. Edward's eyes widened, and he went pale and cold. He dropped the sword. Thaddeus fell to the ground, sword still lodged in his neck.
Edward ran through the forest, and didn't stop.
Chapter 1
Garath stopped. His hawk-like eyes turned swiftly to a small brown sparrow, tweeting on the branch of a tree. I have to be careful... he though to himself There's a murderer in these woods. He crouched down into the undergrowth, mostly brambles and general debris, and surveyed the scene. Nothing but trees, a few sparrows and maybe a snake or two. Then he saw a glint of silver. He stroked his long brown hair, moving along his face to his matching beard. That's the ticket
Deep in the trees, a long bar of silver could be seen. It didn't take a ranger like Garath to know, that was a sword. He crept, his bony frame jutting out awkwardly, and his left hand resting on the hilt of his poisoned dagger. He got within sight, to see a man, rather young, hazel eyes, brown hair and a very pale face. A corpse. He sword was jutting out of his neck, leaving a pool of blood seeping from his neck onto the forest floor, his chin and his robes. Garath's neck swiveled around, he began to notice a heap of weapons on the ground and a dagger lodged in the bark of a nearby oak. There has been a fight. thought Garath, and a shiver came down his spine. Then he heard a rustle.
Garath was as quick as a flash. He grabbed his bow, notched an arrow and drew the strings in half a second, aiming at the sign of the rustling. It was a small Juniper bush, ripe with berries. Something jumped out at Garath! He rolled to the left and fired an arrow that instinctively flew straight between his eyes. But he had killed no murderer. He had killed a wolf. He walked over, and dragged the carcass to behind a large oak. He was glad he had, because he discovered a shield, with something written on it in blood.
The shield carried the crest of a Huntsman, the crest of House Hornwood. It was Thaddeus Hornwood, last of his line. He made the sign of the cross and turned the shield over to confirm his fears. Property of Thaddeus Hornwood. He turned it back over to see a word in blood, smudged, but still eligible. Edward.
Garath had his knife. He had his bow. And he had his victim.
Chapter 2 - Next Week
"Come on, boy!" spat Sir Thaddeus at his young squire, who was face down in the mud.
Edward sighed and pushed himself up. He was used to this. The orders. The tripping. Everything. He wiped the mud off his face, and picked up Sir Thaddeus' swords. Why had his father condemned him to this? It was the same every week. He and Thaddeus would trek through the woods, to go to someone else's castle. Well, after Castle Bramson was destroyed, they were always looking for some place to stay. This one time, they got to this castle with red doors, and they ate banquets every night for a week, with cake and pork and sausages and carrots...
SPLAT!
He had fallen face down in the mud again.
"Get up, you little peasant!" ordered Thaddeus. This last word was said with such venom, that Edward expected to be attacked any minute. He pushed himself up, grabbed swords and wiped off the mud. As Edward stood for a second, to collect himself and wipe off the mud, his knight turned around, strode up to him and slapped him. He saw the anger in Thaddeus' hazel eyes. He was rather handsome, with long brown hair and a pale face, but it was not noticeable with such anger etched across his face. Edward blinked, trying to take the pain without crying, but fell back with pain, weeping.
"GET UP! You are a useless piece of dirt!" Edward was angry now. He could take shouting, but he hated it when he Thaddeus hit him. He stood up, tears streaming down his rather plump face, and combed some dirt out of his sandy hair. He stopped. Thaddeus walked up to him, drawing his dagger, and breathing heavily. He swung it at Edward.
Edward was terrified. He dropped to his stomach, causing Thaddeus to catch his dagger in the tree. Thaddeus tried to pry the dagger out of the bark, and Edward, shaking like a leaf, grabbed the hilt of one of the knights sword and drew it. He stood up, nostrils flared, and swung, not caring where it landed. It hit Thaddeus in the neck. Edward's eyes widened, and he went pale and cold. He dropped the sword. Thaddeus fell to the ground, sword still lodged in his neck.
Edward ran through the forest, and didn't stop.
Chapter 1
Garath stopped. His hawk-like eyes turned swiftly to a small brown sparrow, tweeting on the branch of a tree. I have to be careful... he though to himself There's a murderer in these woods. He crouched down into the undergrowth, mostly brambles and general debris, and surveyed the scene. Nothing but trees, a few sparrows and maybe a snake or two. Then he saw a glint of silver. He stroked his long brown hair, moving along his face to his matching beard. That's the ticket
Deep in the trees, a long bar of silver could be seen. It didn't take a ranger like Garath to know, that was a sword. He crept, his bony frame jutting out awkwardly, and his left hand resting on the hilt of his poisoned dagger. He got within sight, to see a man, rather young, hazel eyes, brown hair and a very pale face. A corpse. He sword was jutting out of his neck, leaving a pool of blood seeping from his neck onto the forest floor, his chin and his robes. Garath's neck swiveled around, he began to notice a heap of weapons on the ground and a dagger lodged in the bark of a nearby oak. There has been a fight. thought Garath, and a shiver came down his spine. Then he heard a rustle.
Garath was as quick as a flash. He grabbed his bow, notched an arrow and drew the strings in half a second, aiming at the sign of the rustling. It was a small Juniper bush, ripe with berries. Something jumped out at Garath! He rolled to the left and fired an arrow that instinctively flew straight between his eyes. But he had killed no murderer. He had killed a wolf. He walked over, and dragged the carcass to behind a large oak. He was glad he had, because he discovered a shield, with something written on it in blood.
The shield carried the crest of a Huntsman, the crest of House Hornwood. It was Thaddeus Hornwood, last of his line. He made the sign of the cross and turned the shield over to confirm his fears. Property of Thaddeus Hornwood. He turned it back over to see a word in blood, smudged, but still eligible. Edward.
Garath had his knife. He had his bow. And he had his victim.
Chapter 2 - Next Week
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