The Last Garrison (Dungeons & Dragons Novel) Read Online Free Page A

himself with gathering up his weapons.
    “Wrong, little fatherless boy,” said Kohel. “You saw what you think you saw, but by the time you get a chance to tell anyone, I’ll have already told the whole village all they need to know, all they’ll believe instead.”
    Nergei knew what was coming next, knew but still couldn’t move his body fast enough to avoid it. In a lifetime of being bullied, he’d never once moved fast enough. He was so tired, drained of the bravery that had led him to protect Luzhon, of whatever hadmade the heat he had felt just moments before, that he had failed to feel again, and he did not, could not manage to protect himself from the incoming blow. Kohel’s blunt fist knocked Nergei to the burnt ground, and when Nergei tried to stand, the bigger boy’s heavy boot kicked him in the face, then stomped him again, until Nergei knew better than to try to rise. Unconsciousness was better than death, and so Nergei let himself slip away, so that he might live to bear witness to what he saw here. Kohel of Haven was no hero, and so Luzhon would never be his, because she deserved better. And would have better if Nergei could somehow make it so.
    And also, more importantly, Haven was under threat, and his master had to be warned. Creatures had found their way to the hidden village of Haven, perhaps accidentally, perhaps on purpose—and there was danger in the woods. The Old Stargazer would protect them, as he had so many times before. Of that, Nergei was sure.

CHAPTER TWO
    W ith the Crook of Haven in his hands, Londih strode across the hard paths of the village, seeing the buildings behind the village’s wall in a new way, despite his long years of familiarity. The approach of the creatures—two of which had been returned to Haven, brought by Londih’s son, Kohel, and Orick’s son, Padlur—had put a fear into him he had not felt before, and suddenly every building looked like it might be able to be lost. There was the village blacksmith, the tanner, the cooper, and the cobbler. There were the long racks for tanning hides, and there was the smokehouse, for preserving elk and deer, fish and fowl.
    There were the homes of the few hundred villagers, the people Londih had been tasked with stewarding, and who—until today—he had never feared failing.
    Thank the gods for my strong son, he thought, wondering how he might have fared if it had been him in that clearing instead, surrounded by the bird men—the
kenku
, as he had been told they were called.
    He shook his head to clear his thoughts, frowned at his almost believing what he was sure was a lie. The two kenku, dead and awaiting them in the council chamber, had probably been killed by the youths. But Kohel had had no part in it, despite his claiming one of the kills. The boy was a braggart and his pride made him want too much too fast. He was unable to be patient, to allow the accrual of great deeds to happen over time, to add up to a great and heroic life.
    Kohel wanted to be a great man without delay, and Londih had not yet convinced him that was not the way it most often worked.
    And yet, what were the opportunities for greatness there? Londih had worked hard to be a good leader, but had he been great? By what trials had he been tested? Haven was, for all its remoteness, remarkably safe, and Londih knew it was the Old Stargazer who kept it that way, and not his own actions. Haven did not even have a standing militia or guard. There was little crime, and what there was could most often be handled by the village council members, who counted among their numbers some of the best hunters, and also the few men and women trained even haphazardly with bow and blade.The others were farmers or tradesmen, speculators and herbalists. They were not a difficult people to rule, nor to keep safe behind the village walls, or even in the area beyond them, where there were no hostile creatures that Londih knew of, and where even the wolves and the bears were