Brightflame Accension (Book 1)

Brightflame

Accension

Book One of the

Heroes of Gammalgard

Series

By

D. B. Penner

To Mary Elizabeth Coley for her ceasele
ss support and undying patience.

Table of Contents

Old Man Strength

Initiation

Fears New and Old

New Faces

The Brute, the Mage, and the Sneak

Tales Told

The Beast Inside

Lifting the Veil

Trials of Will and the Brightflame

Van Arda

War Games

The Warning and the Dream

Words with Beasts

Letters from Family

Bonds

Heritage

Winter Frost

Aftermath

The Flatlanda

Oaths

The Noble Quest

Slyminia

Reunion

End of Part One

Old Man Strength

His muscles ached from the exertion of guiding the horse-drawn plow, and sweat dripped from his brow. Wiping the salty drops out of his eyes, Will streaked brown grime across his face. The sun reached the peak of its daily journey. “Stop! That’s enough for today.” Will stood up straight and looked at his father, confused.

Physically, he was obviously his father’s son, strong, tall, and of noble countenance. However, the boy was humble and rather quiet, traits certainly not inherited from Matthew.

The sun had only reached the peak of its daily journey.

“We’re done?” Will asked, leaning on the plow.

“I suppose so. It’s good enough, I mean. You’ve been working hard all week; it’s time for a break.” Matthew stretched his shoulder, rubbing at the knotted muscle in it. Will shrugged and unhitched the young draft horse, Soulfire, releasing him into the grassy paddock behind the stable to join the other horses. Will dragged his own sore body towards the cottage.

His mother met him at the door. “No, no, no, the Empire will fall before you come into this house all muddy like you are,” Elizabeth said, blocking his entrance to the home. Will rolled his eyes and exhaustedly trudged around to the back of the house where a small pond glittered, reflecting the sunlight.

Just feet before the cool water, Will was struck in the back by a hard object. Spinning on his heel, Will saw his father charge him with a wooden sword. Ducking the swipe at his head, he scanned the hard-packed dirt for the sparring blade that Matthew had thrown at him before assaulting him.

The aches and pains of labor Will had felt just moments before were forgotten as the passion of the game enveloped him. Snagging the wooden grip of the sword, Will stood. Matthew laughed and spun his sword in his palm, a tactic meant to intimidate his opponent. Will had seen his father’s prowess with the blade, and that was not the most fearsome move in Matthew’s repertoire. With a flourish, Matthew jumped at Will, who parried the blow. Slashing at his father, Will was blocked. Rolling towards better terrain, as the grass below his feet was slick, Will tried to anticipate his father’s next move. Suddenly, the ground beneath him was aflame, forcing Will to dive away again. Heart beating fast and chest heaving, Will searched for sign of his father, who had disappeared. This trick, too, was an old technique utilized by Matthew. The only problem for Will was that the next attack could come from any direction. A crunch sounded from directly behind Will. The wooden sword smacked against Will’s right side. The blow forced Will to his knees, and he cried out in pain.

“You’re dead, boy,” Matthew said gloatingly, placing his blade at Will’s throat.

“Aye, and that hurt by the way,” Will said, defeated and with ribs smarting painfully.

“That whooping you just took is called old man strength.”

I’ll get you one day
, Will thought forlornly.

They sparred almost daily, and more often than not, Will bore several large, painful bruises as a result.

Matthew lifted his son to his feet. “Again?”

“No,” Will answered brusquely. Though he had never outright won a duel with his father, each defeat was still a blow to his pride.

“Wash off then, and get some food from your mum.”

Having fed the animals and worked in the field, Will was ready to bathe and did not need to be told twice. In an attempt to ignore the throbbing in his side, Will focused on his surroundings. The pond, fed by an underground spring, was surrounded by short, green grass. His house, made of enormous logs stacked on top of a well-crafted stone foundation, was sturdy and beautiful with flowerbeds surrounding the place and ivy crawling up the sides. Small windows with green shutters had been cut into the logs. Beyond the pond stood a stable, home to the horses and a few sheep.

Stepping into the water was heavenly. The cool liquid seemed to relieve his pain as quickly as it cleansed him of the dirt on his limbs. Rubbing his body, Will felt the grime dissolve, leaving him feeling fresh and renewed. Submerging his head, Will ran his hand through his hair. Still beneath the surface, Will opened his eyes to spot a lizard-like creature with sparkling scales and six legs slithering through the water. Swift and agile, the creature approached Will and lapped at his arm with a forked tongue. Playfully, it darted away and swam a figure eight, pausing to look at Will with tiny, orange eyes. Smiling, Will breached the surface of the clear pond and took a deep breath of sweet, crisp air. The lizard in the water exploded out of the water using its wide tail to propel itself into the air. Splashing Will upon its reentry to the pond, the creature disappeared into its depths.

Will found a clean tunic and a fresh pair of woolen pants waiting for him at the edge of the water. Pulling on the sun-warmed clothing, Will cricked his neck and brushed his long hair back with his hands. Elizabeth Stormhand and her pet snow leopard, Lumina, greeted him at the door and led the refreshed Will to the table.

As Will waited for food, he scratched Lumina behind her soft ears.

With a loud bang, the door to the house opened. Matthew burst into the cottage and hugged Elizabeth happily. “You beast! You’re filthy! Out, out, get out!” she cried with a smile on her face. Matthew released her and strolled to the fire to smell what simmered in the pot. When he reached for a spoon, Elizabeth gave her husband a stern look that prompted his grin to disappear. Looking ashamed for only a moment, Matthew exited the house to wash.

“We are going to town. Will, pack a fresh tunic and pants,” Matthew said after they had finished their meal of mutton and potato stew.

“I’m going?” Will asked, surprised and pleased. He had not left the fields surrounding their little cottage for some time, and Will was anxious for a change of scenery.

“Yes, you’re going.
We
are going to the Jaohn Fair. Don’t you ever listen, boy?”

Will frowned. “You had never mentioned-”

“We’re going to the Jaohn Fair!” Matthew interrupted. “Be happy, I’m excited myself.”

“Wait, why are we going to the fair?” Will asked, suddenly suspicious.

Matthew grinned, his excitement visibly mounting. “I will not ruin the surprise, but at the fair, I will introduce you to my good friend. He will explain all.”

“You were not keen on the prospect before, Matthew,” Elizabeth interrupted knowingly. “It is not wise.”

“Of course I wasn’t. He was not ready,” Matthew said bluntly. “It is risky still.” Then, feelings of excitement compelled him to break into his broad smile once more. “But, I have taught him all I can here. He must go now to a safe place to continue his training. Elizabeth, you knew we could not keep him here forever. A man must be free to pursue his destiny, to become his own man.”

Elizabeth looked downcast. “I know, but it does not make this easier.”

Their secret communications bothered Will. He was, after all, sitting at the same table as his parents, obvious witness to their scheming.

The family began to prepare for the trip, and just four days later, they set out, leaving their isolated house for the small village of Jaohn. It was a two-day’s journey over hills covered in long grasses. Will, who was eager to see the fair and enter again the world outside of their fields, thought the trip went by quickly.

When they did reach Jaohn, Will climbed ahead and reached the summit of the hill overlooking the fair and the town. Jaohn was a little town of pleasant-looking cottages surrounded by a low wall of unmortared stone. Lacking a moat, the festival tents had crept right up to the wall. Will looked down on the field of colorful tents and booths. Smoke from a hundred cooking fires rose from the ring of carnival attractions. Will laughed and ran back to his family. Lumina jumped excitedly. After tackling her happily, the leopard chased Will around his parents and the two horses, which were burdened with the surplus they were to sell.

Grinning, they all exclaimed their amazement to each other. Matthew and Will started to laugh. Will raised his fists, and the two pretended to box in the long grass. Elizabeth looked at them sternly for a moment but smiled as Will popped his father in the stomach rather harder than necessary.

Walking between the stalls and stands, there were sights and sounds that Will had neither seen nor heard before. Jesters grinned widely, displaying golden teeth, and old merchants jangled their goods at him. Will gazed in wonder at the fresh food, the trinkets, the weapons, and the exotic birds on display for sale.

Someone grabbed Matthew’s shoulder from behind. “Stormhand! Could it be? Look at you! You look like goblin dung. How have you been?” a rosy-cheeked man with a walrus moustache hollered. Matthew shushed him with a glance and clasped his forearm with a smile.

“Gods be good, Harold! How great it is to see you and that creature still living on your face. But quiet, I don’t want everyone in the entire carnival learning that I’m here. I’ll be signing shields for hours if they do,” Matthew said, beaming. “And I haven’t got my quill.”

Harold’s face reddened with mirth, his belly bouncing with his booming laugh. “Why shouldn’t they know the greatest warrior in Gammalgard is here? If they did, we might find some nice maidens who want to hear all our old war stories and perchance something more.” The men howled with laughter as they walked together, leaving Elizabeth and Will behind with the horses.

              “Those men. I’ll have to inform his wife about that remark. I’m sure she will find it quite amusing,” Elizabeth smiled. Will said nothing, gazing at a display of bear-fur cloaks with the heads still attached. “Go along. Explore the fair, and find me when you’re hungry.”

             
Without a word, Will darted off into the crowd. The aisles between the stalls were teeming with strange-looking people and animals. The pets were widely varied, ranging from gigantic elk to small house cats. Cautious, Will shied away from the looming beasts. Eying a mean-looking mercenary and his one-eyed ape warily, Will sidled into a spot before a storyteller on a platform.

The bard dressed in a jester’s garb crouched low on the stage as he began. The charismatic teller used his body to enunciate points in the story, prancing around with bells on his shoes jiggling merrily. Will found himself captivated, hanging on to every word this strange, little storyteller spoke. After the first story came a second, then a third. Eventually, Will wrenched himself away from the platform; there was too much to see before night fell to listen to a fifth story, despite the enchanting skill of the bard.

Feeling his stomach growl, Will walked off to find his mother. He eased his way through the masses and found his parents seated with the mustached man underneath a wide tent. Lumina purred happily as he approached.

“Hungry yet?” Elizabeth asked.

“Obviously; the boy is probably starving,” Matthew answered for Will. “Now, let’s get some food and take our places. I want to be close,” Matthew said, hopping up. The fat Harold struggled for a moment before heaving himself out of his seat.

“Places for what?” Will asked. He fell into step with Matthew. “Father? Places for what?”

The mustachioed man, Harold, tottered forward. “The Jaohn Tournament, of course. The fair is merely meant to entertain before Lord Estemount can present the Tournament. I hear this year’s will be especially fantastic,” he said. Will gazed at his father’s friend.  

“Watch it!” a brown-haired boy leading a tottering horse shouted as Will collided with him. From the crowd, Will heard a voice yell, “Hurry along, Arty!”

“Coming,” the boy replied, shooting a last glare at Will before rushing off after the voice.

“Sorry,” Will uttered quietly well after the boy with his horse had dissolved into the crowd. Bowing his head embarrassedly, Will quickened his pace to catch up with Matthew.

The group arrived at the gigantic raised stadium where the tournament was to be held. The coliseum could seat a thousand, Harold had said. Meats of all sorts were displayed in the lengthening shadow of the structure. They entered the stadium with greasy turkey legs in hand.

Upon entering the massive arena, they seated themselves in the stands two rows up from the dirt. Will could hardly help but marvel at the size and grandeur of the venue. Conversation in the seats ceased as five men walked out of a brightly colored tent at the left of the main level. The men entered through a small wooden gate into the arena. They were all fitted for battle except one. The odd one out wore a purple tunic and a jester’s hat fitted with bells.

“Lords and ladies, may I have your attention, please? As you all know, this here is the main event and the final contest of this year’s fair. It is in Lord and Lady Estemount’s honor that I present to you this tournament.” The crowd cheered. A chant rose for Lord Estemount. The man in the jester’s hat smiled brightly and pointed to a richly dressed noble sitting in the very highest box. The noble applauded the crowd and blew kisses at his people. Praise rose from those seated below once more. Jester-hat waited until the crowd was once again seated before continuing, “And I promise you this, on my own honor as the Lord Estemount’s favorite fool, the spectacle that you’re about to witness will be the best tournament Jaohn has ever seen. Hell, it’ll be the best tournament in all of Gammalgard.” The crowd erupted in shouts and applause. “Anyway, you know the rules: kill or be killed, anything goes, and last one standing wins… Let the Tournament begin!” The peculiar man ran as best he could in his eccentric garb out of the fighting ring.