The Ranger (Book 1) Read Free

of the abbey buildings. He took his time, admiring the buildings. The Grand Abbey of Pallà was over seven hundred years old. Most of the buildings were plain, unadorned red granite. Simple glass windows covered the openings. The sanctuary, on the other hand, was beautifully crafted with ornate stonework and fine stained glass windows along the front depicted the ten tokens granted by Sandora. Stone walled corridors connected all the buildings together, creating an enclosed cloister in the middle. The cloister housed the entrance to the most holy of holy shrines in all of Pallà, the Great Dome. The Great Dome housed the Golden Sword of Breen, and a statue of the Goddess filled much of the space.
    Vincent continued on down the path to the small field behind the abbey buildings. A large group of excited children greeted him as he rounded the back of the abbey.
    “’Bout time you got here,” Thomas grumbled as Vincent joined him in the middle of the large group. “I thought I was going to have to take these kids by myself.”
    Thomas was shorter than Vincent, but much more muscular. His breastplate was dull, and there was a great deal of dirt on the knees of his pants. He had long red hair that hung wildly, adding to his renegade appearance. He had a light imperial accent.
    “Sorry,” Vincent replied, “Master Auna wanted to talk for a minute.”
    “Of course,” Thomas said dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “how silly of me, I should have known that Master Auna would have wanted to talk to his favorite student.”
    “Let’s just get going,” Vincent sighed. “We don’t have all day.”
    “Alright,” Thomas called to the gathered children, “We’re going to go now.” The children cheered excitedly. “We all need to stay together, does everyone have a buddy?”
    “Yes!” The children shouted, holding up the hands of their buddies. The younger children were all paired off with one of the older ones.
    “Good, now remember,” Thomas continued, his face hard as stone, “don’t wander into the woods, they’re full of gnolls that would love to eat a wayward child.”
    The younger children all huddled closer to their buddy while the older children laughed.
    Vincent gave Thomas a shove, “Wolf-men?” He said incredulously. “Don’t scare the kids with foolish wives tales.”
    “They’re not wives tales,” Thomas said defensively, “I grew up on the other side of the mountains where the Rangers don’t patrol. I’ve seen gnolls; and they’re not wolf-men, they’re wolves that stand on two legs and carry weapons. Werewolves are the wolf-men; they are much worse.”
    “Have it your way,” Vincent said, rolling his eyes, “let’s get going.”
    “Right,” Thomas called again, “follow me, double file. Vincent, you take the back.”
    They walked back around to the front of the abbey where the large gates stood wide open. They marched past the guards and turned left. The road was full of travelers, mostly merchants from the Empire en route to Gesta, the capital of the Pallà Province of the Eresian Empire. Four hundred years had passed since the Kingdom of Pallà had fallen to the Empire, but the old capital still stood in all its former glory as the economic centre of the Province.
    They had hardly left the abbey when a small voice cried from behind them, “wait for me!” Vincent turned to see Jace, a little five year old from the abbey, running behind them, tears streaming down his pudgy face. “I wanna come too.”
    Vincent paused and waited for the child to catch up. He put the child in line in front of him and they carried on. The day was becoming steadily hotter as the sun climbed higher in the sky, but the forest lining the road gave welcome shade. The other travelers on the road generally ignored the band of children as they made their way along.
    It was a long walk to the river, made longer by the slow pace they had to maintain for the children. A shallow ford allowed