Defenders of The Sacred Land: Book One of The Sacred Land Saga Read Online Free Page A

a plain stitched, dull grey dress. Dorenn did not realize anyone else had been in the coach. The young woman had middle-back length brown hair, fair skin, and a beautiful but sharp-featured face. Her eyes shined with life, especially in the light of the braziers, which two attendants had blazing now. She dropped something on the ground and bent over to pick it up. As she rose, her hair fanned out over of her eyes, revealing her gently pointed ears. Dorenn blinked with mild surprise. Although he was no stranger to elven kind, other than the village apothecary and his friend Trendan, Dorenn did not see them in Brookhaven often.
    “Tatrice, did you see that? The woman in grey is elvish,” Dorenn whispered.
    Even though she was more than two wagon lengths away, the elven woman abruptly looked up at Dorenn as if she heard him speak.
    “What, Dorenn?” Tatrice asked.
    “I will tell you later,” he said. The elf maiden beamed at him. He nodded back courteously before she followed closely behind Lady Shey and out of view. Lady Shey stopped short of entering the inn and waited for Dorenn to join them at the front doors.
    After assisting Fadral secure the wagon, Dorenn went to help Tatrice down from the high seat.
    A few moments later, he escorted the lady into the inn. “I apologize, my lady, but how do I introduce you? Is there anything I should know or say?”
    “No,” she stated flatly, “I want you to remain silent in the common room. Introduce me to your parents only.” She stopped to allow Rodraq to pass. “I do not wish to draw too much attention to myself yet. There is time for pleasantries later.” Rodraq entered the common room, surveyed it from top to bottom, and deemed it safe enough for his charge. Despite their caution, everyone in the common room fell silent as one by one the patrons noticed the battle-scarred stranger standing at the entrance. Rodraq drew his sword and planted it hard into the wooden floor in a gesture to discourage riff raff. A startled whisper filled the room. He motioned and Lady Shey entered, followed by the elf maiden.
    Lady Shey rolled her eyes. “So much for not drawing attention,” she muttered to Rodraq. She stopped and stared at Dorenn. He realized she expected him to lead her through the inn, so he rushed to accommodate her.
    The common room of the Tiger’s Head Inn was designed floor to ceiling by Dorenn’s mother, Dellah. The walls were made of deep polished wood, and the floors consisted of long wooden planks placed tightly together. Rich mosaic tapestries hung on the east and west walls with one above the bar area on the north wall. Coat hooks, hat hooks, and sword notches lined the southern wall around the double-door at the entrance. The ceiling had been painted with the mural of a giant pouncing tiger with an overly large head, mouth open in a silent roar for dramatic effect. Dorenn scanned the common room but found no sign of his mother or father. The patrons remained in a low hush as Dorenn led Lady Shey to the kitchen. Upon entering, Dorenn immediately spotted his mother, who was speaking rather sharply with the main cook. Ladle in hand, she was sampling a sauce and giving the cook pointers on the inclusion of ingredients. The cook looked none too pleased with her advice. Dorenn looked around the kitchen for his father but did not see him. Sensing that Lady Shey was becoming impatient again, Dorenn led her to his mother and waited for her to finish scolding the cook. After a moment or two, Dellah realized the cook was no longer paying attention to her, and she turned to see what he was looking at so intently. At first, she stared anxiously at Dorenn until she noticed Rodraq towering above Lady Shey, his stone-faced expression serious. “Dorenn dear,” she began nervously, “is there anything the matter?”
    “No, mother.” Dorenn extended his hand outwardly toward Lady Shey and the elf maiden. “This is Lady Shey from the Vale and her elven servant.” He