The Ranger (Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

chest in which he stored his armour. He opened the chest and tenderly removed his chainmail shirt. He was just pulling it over his head when Thomas burst through the door. He tossed Vincent a loaf of bread and a chunk of dried meat. “You’ll need your energy if you want to do well tonight.”
    “Thanks,” Vincent said, tearing into bread. “I need all the help I can get.”
    “You need more ambition,” Thomas teased as he pulled off his shirt. “You have what it takes to be a great knight, you just lack the confidence.”
    “Easy for you to say,” Vincent muttered. “Everything comes easy for you. I’ve had to work to get where I am.”
    “Well maybe that work will pay off,” Thomas gave a sly smile. Vincent looked at him quizzically. “The Lord Abbot said that there’s a special assignment this year and they need the very best knight for it. The winner of the tournament is the likely candidate.”
    “I wonder what kind of placement it is,” Vincent said pensively, a sudden sense of foreboding coming over him. He quickly shook it off. Thomas was going to win the tournament so there was no need for him to worry about it. He pulled a blue tunic out of the wardrobe and pulled it over his mail. The shirt that accompanied his ceremonial outfit, with its billowing sleeves, was not fit for combat. The tunic was much closer fitting and allowed for greater ease in wielding a sword. It too bore the hand of Sandora on its front.
    “Whatever it is, I bet you get it,” Thomas grumbled. “You’re the favorite.”
    “I wouldn’t be surprised if you got it,” Vincent shot back, surprised at Thomas’s sudden lack of confidence. “You’ve always been better than me with weaponry.”
    “Except for giocapugni and the bow,” Thomas cut in. “You’re just as good as anyone when it comes to giocapugni, and if they do archery I’m sunk.”
    Giocapugni was an ancient form of unarmed combat that the academy had adapted for the use of weapons. It was a traditional form of combat in Pallà, and most children grew up practicing it, even the children at the abbey orphanage were taught the fundamental. Thomas, who had grown up outside of Pallà, did not have this background when he came to the academy. He had had a much harder time learning the skills.
    “Well, then pray they don’t have either,” Vincent laughed as he tied on his two swords.
    In ceremonial attire all knights were required to carry a sword and shield. However, combat attire allowed knights to carry their weapon of choice. Vincent preferred to carry twin short swords, whereas Thomas wielded a broad, double headed axe.
    “You ready?” Thomas asked, tying his long red hair behind his head.
    “I was born ready,” Vincent laughed, failing in his attempt to sound confident. “Let’s get moving,” Vincent added looking at the hourglass, “it’s nearly sunset. We don’t want to be late.”
    They walked silently through the abbey on their way to the training field, where the event would be held, and exited through the main abbey doors. They turned right, following the same path Vincent had followed that morning. It took them around the side of the abbey to the small gate on the back wall.
    The abbey grounds were surrounded by thick forest, but at the back of the abbey, just outside the walls, a large clearing had been formed. It was there that the knights of the academy trained.
    The field itself was well kept, with very little to indicate its purpose. A small shed built against the wall housed the stairs to the academy’s hall.
    The sun had almost dipped below the western mountains as they walked through the small gate leading to the training field. The sight that met them this time was significantly different than what they were used to. The perimeter of the field was lined with benches; rows and rows of benches. On the front row, right in the middle, there were six large throne-like chairs. Torches marked the edge of the field. Many of the benches