The Grim Wanderer Read Free Page A

entire village. As fast as it had blown in, the arcane wind died away.
    Logan beckoned the four children out of the hut, as Hirandar lowered her staff and said, ‘May their souls find peace, in the eternal rest of the Light.’
    The snow had eased, but the children all shivered as a freezing wind blew through the despoiled village.
    As they rode off the eldest boy gripped onto Logan’s jacket and gazed back for the last time onto the village where he had lived all his life. The boy said a silent prayer to the Light, to welcome the souls of his mother and father. As the last glimpse of his ravaged home disappeared behind the crown of the hill, the boy turned and looked ahead to the new life that lay before him.

Chapter 2 – A Place Called Home
     
     
    The sword hurtled towards Taem’s head. The assault was relentless. Victory was everything.
    Taem swept his sword into a high horizontal block, juddering aside the powerful chop. In the next moment, Taem brought his sword down to halt a swing to his left chest. He dodged underneath a diagonal blow. Taem swept his leg back, avoiding a cleaving swing aimed at his thigh. He flicked away a thrust that came for his neck.
    Without respite, Taem was forced to parry a lightning jab, intended to pierce his heart. He deflected the blow so the opponent’s sword slid past the left side of his torso. Taem blocked high and low, in quick succession. He ducked a swinging attack, side-stepped a chopping blow. Taem thrust his sword upward, just in time to block his opponent’s swing within two inches of his left cheekbone. A fine defensive move. The next attack came in an in-swinging downwards arc, aiming for Taem’s right side. Taem swung his sword point low across his body to meet the incoming blow, smashing it aside. Taem used the momentum of his committed block to spin full-circle and strike out at his adversary’s exposed head. It was a flashy and unexpected riposte. Triumph was assured. But the instant before Taem struck, his opponent’s wooden practice sword came up and collided with his own, producing a loud thwack.
    ‘Good,’ Logan smiled. Taem was an exceptional apprentice, but he was no match for the Sodan Master.
    Taem stepped back and began circling Logan, his training sword held with two hands in the guard position.
    The countryside was alive with the blooming of late spring, as the two combatants stood bare-chested in the heat of the midday sun. Sweat glistened on their muscular bodies, their physiques honed by many years of training the sword.
    For over ten years Taem had called this isolated little haven his home. As he gazed to the east the great Dredgen Mountain range rose up out of the earth, to the south lay the dense Lambervale Forest, to the north and west swept grassy plains and farmland for a hundred miles at least. It was all Taem and his siblings had known since the blackest day of their young lives.
    Taem watched his opponent orbit his sphere of combat. The Master prowled with cat-like grace. Logan was taller than Taem, but they were now almost matched for strength. If anything, after the years of training, Taem was a fraction faster than Logan, but the older man was easily the more skilful. The Master was in his mid-forties, but the only evidence of this was his greying hair and the maturity in his brown eyes – those eyes shone with a will that was harder than tempered steel. Logan’s features were different to the blond hair and striking blue eyes of Taem, although Taem thought they had similar stark jaws.
    Logan circled to Taem’s right as the cautious young man advanced. Logan faked a sidestep to the left, then changed direction again to come straight at Taem. Logan’s speedy footwork was enough to put Taem’s faltering legs out of position, forcing the younger man out of line and muddling to defend himself. Caught unexpected and unaware, Taem flustered to establish his guard. Confusion slowed his blade. Logan made full use of his lead, bringing