He’d listened to his Aunt Mirryn’s stories of the High King and his valorous knights, and shivered at Uncle’s stories of Orcs and fouler creatures. Until now, all Gareth knew of battle and death were old stories and a boy’s imaginings. Gareth was only fourteen years old, and had never seen a battle before – until this autumn, Korbing Village had been spared the troubles that blighted the rest of the World. As it was, Gareth had sprinted back to the village with the rest of the men as soon as the first bellows had sounded, but by the time they returned it was far too late: the village was dying, if not already dead. In the bitter nights to come, Gareth would often wonder if the Orcs had meant to avoid the men working in the fields, so they could torment them with the screams of their wives and children before the real fight began. If the Orcs had come from the south or if Gareth had been working his father’s plot instead of helping his Uncle Hugan with the harvest, the Orcs would have come upon him first and he would no doubt be dead already. Gareth had been working in the millet fields south of the village when they came. The Orcs had attacked at dusk, their brutal cries echoing across the valley the very moment the sun had touched the horizon. Blind luck was the only reason the boy wasn’t dead already. inside back coverĪ NEW WORLD Gareth had no idea that he was dying. 103 Chapter 11 – City Assets and Tradesmen.
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