The Ranger (Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

were already full: people had traveled from the five other abbeys to see this event.
    A few of the other new knights had already arrived and were sitting on a bench just to the left of the thrones. Thomas pointed toward them. Vincent nodded and they started walking to where they would sit.
    A loud crash from behind startled them. Vincent turned just in time to see Jan, another initiate, trip over a bench and fall flat on his face while his training companion Mark stood and laughed.
    “It’s not that funny,” Jan grumbled as he got up and brushed himself off. The four of them continued to the bench where the other six initiates sat conversing excitedly about the upcoming event. Vincent had just sat down when Auna walked over to the group.
    “Is everyone ready for tonight?” he asked. There was a murmur of yes. “I hope you are, for your sakes. Your performance tonight will determine your futures as knights.” Auna cast an appraising glance down the line of initiates, a few of them shifted uncomfortably as his gaze crossed them.
    “You will all be fine,” Auna finished with a smile. “Vincent, could I have a word?” Auna took Vincent by the arm without another word and led him a short distance away. “How are you feeling?” he asked at length.
    “Good,” Vincent lied. He felt like he was about to throw up.
    “There is nothing to worry about,” Auna said reassuringly. “You have what it takes to win. I’ve know it since you first came to the abbey. You’re like your father in every way. He would be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
    “Wait,” Vincent said, shocked, “you knew my father?”
    “We were good friends,” Auna replied fondly. “You are more like him than you know.”
    “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”
    “I had my reasons, and one day, I may tell you. Suffice it to say it was for your protection. Now, do your father proud, and win this tournament. I believe in you Vincent,” Auna whispered with a wink before returning Vincent to the group of initiates and taking his seat to the immediate left of the thrones.
    Vincent and the others went back to talking excitedly between themselves. The benches were quickly filling. Vincent laughed as Jan started to explain his theory as to what was going to happen that evening, but his story was cut short as a sudden hush fell over the assembled crowd. Vincent turned in his seat to see four Valkyrie, the heavily armed, female counterpart to the knights and personal bodyguards to the abbots of the other abbeys, exit the small gate from the grounds of the abbey. They stood just outside the gate as ten more followed leading the six abbots of Pallà.
    Vincent’s eyes quickly fell on Abbot Markov, Grand Abbot of Pallà. He resided in a special chamber below the Great Dome. He was an old man with a long white beard and a care-worn face. Age had bent his withered frame and he leaned heavily on the ornate staff he used as a walking stick. However, it was his eyes that caught Vincent’s attention; they were a deep green and seemed to burn with the fire of youth.
    This had always puzzled Vincent, just as Auna puzzled him. There was some mysterious connection between the two of them; but he didn’t have time to contemplate the mysteries of the old man as something else caught his attention. Walking next to the abbot was a man he had never seen before.
    There was nothing overly unusual about the man; he was tall, just a little taller than Vincent, with thick, unkempt, black hair. A thick white scar cut across his tanned face from just above his left eye to just below his left ear. The man’s eyes were just like Master Auna’s, a deep, fiery red on white. He was dressed as a Knight of Sandora, but his tunic was black and he wore a black cloak around his shoulders like a cape. He also wore a very worn looking pair of leather gloves. It was not unusual to see knights wearing different tunics as every abbey had its own colors, but Vincent had not seen