Soron's Quest Read Free

son’s council and no greater warrior could be found among his people. Theron was saddened that his son had to face death so often, but such was life in the north and Theron had to do what was best for all of his people. Soron would have to make his own way.
    As Theron pondered his son’s future he ate his meal. The meat tasted strange, not bad but like nothing he had tried before. Theron called for Rurik, the cook.
    Rurik, the portly cook waddled into the hall with an amused look on his face. Rare was the times his king called him into the hall to complain about a meal. Everyone knew not to mention Rurik’s cooking without a kind word. To do so was inviting a torrent of foul language and abusive insult that would make the most hardened pirate blush. Rurik was no one to trifle with, especially when it came to his cooking.
    “You called your highness?” asked Rurik.
    “Yes I have, you old goat. Are you going to tell me what I am eating or do I have to have some chop off your head for trying to poison me?” barked Theron. The king was the one person unafraid of insulting Rurik.
    Rurik smiled, enjoying the king’s discomfort for a moment longer before replying, “snow yeti, tonight’s meal is perfectly aged snow yeti.” A murmur went through the hall as everyone began to discuss the cook’s latest culinary creation.
    Snow yeti , thought Theron . Who the hell would be stupid enough to hunt yeti? Theron frowned and shook his head. He knew exactly who was crazy enough to do such a thing. Perhaps he had worded his thoughts poorly. Who the hell was stupid enough to hunt Soron , was probably the better answer. Theron would bet money that his dinner had tried to eat his son. Well, that explains the need to visit Holti . Surviving a yeti attack, amazing , he thought to himself. Theron took another bite of the yeti meat, its savory flavor tasted all the better knowing what it was. “Thank you Rurik, it is delicious.”
    The cook smirked. “I thought you might say that. Now may I return to work?” replied Rurik.
    “Yes, but send another plate of meat out, I am going to have some more, this is a rare treat,” replied the king.
    Theron looked over at Soron, who was quietly sitting and eating while everyone around him talked about the unique meal. The content look on Soron’s face confirmed Theron’s thoughts. His son was the one who provided the rare delicacy.
    While Soron sat there enjoying his roast yeti, he pondered the dilemma of the impending attack from the great Magnus Kollrson and his five thousand men. Amradin was a small city, but not one built for defensive purposes. The city had started out as a small village but had grown as quickly as tribes gathered under the strong and wise leadership of Theron Stoneblood. Magnus would destroy Amradin, simply to say he had. He would claim the title of king, not because he intended to lead the people of the tribes but because he could. Magnus Kollrson craved conflict, and if he had turned his attention to the tribes of this area he would cut a wide swath through the area, killing and pillaging before returning to his home in the far northern. Magnus must be stopped , thought Soron.
    When dinner ended and the majority of the people had returned to their homes for the night, Soron went and sat beside his father.
     In silence they sat there, watching the servants clean the other tables. Theron knew his son had something on his mind and would speak when ready, there was no point pushing him.
    “When this battle is over, I am leaving the north,” proclaimed Soron.
    Theron looked at his son, he knew how all the bloodshed affected the lad, and perhaps he was right to want to leave. The reality was neither one of them would survive the coming battle so arguing about Soron’s future beyond that seemed pointless. “If that is what you wish. Where will you go?”
    “South to the lands below the Applomean Mountains, I shall trade and wander. Perhaps I shall find something that