Quest: Book 1 of the The Sylvalla Chronicles by F Fraderghast by A.J. Ponder

Author:A.J. Ponder [Ponder, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phantom Feather Press
Published: 2018-10-01T05:00:00+00:00

A Change in Fortune

Fergus, Dothie and Arrant broke camp early so as to get the jump on Sylvalla. Refreshed, or at least more refreshed than their quarry, they strolled through the city gates with a mad hope that today was the day that their luck would change. And it did. Constantly.

All the commotion made it easy to track where Sylvalla and Dirk had gone. The Kyng’s Arms. Where, by all accounts, they, and a small army, were holding the king for ransom.

“They are close, I can smell it,” Fergus growled under his breath as they led their horses through a narrow alley.

They hurried through the mud and around the stables.

There in the courtyard were Dirk, Sylvalla, a tattered urchin, and if they were not mistaken, King Phetero himself.

Would there be a prize for rescuing him?

Dothie hoped so. Dothie loosed a flaming missile at Dirk. A good shot, it flew straight at the annoying swordsman. He was dead for sure.

Dirk’s sword flashed through the air, and the missile tumbled out of the sky, cleaved in two separate pieces.

Dothie stopped in shock, arms raised and mid-spell. What had happened?

Arrant and Fergus kept running in to attack.

An arrow sliced the air between them, and they stopped just long enough to watch their quarry clatter out of the gate.

Life rolls forever uphill, they thought to themselves, if not quite so poetically.

§

“It’s just a rock.” Dirk said, disgusted as the missile crashed in two pieces at his feet. “I mean, really, what are those idiot soldiers thinking, throwing rocks?”

“Soldiers?” said Sylvalla. “I don’t see any uniforms.”

Francis dropped all the reins, swung his bow up and fired.

“Time to split.” Dirk grabbed the reins for Phibiam’s mount and started off.

They hardly needed encouragement. Francis urged his skittish mount toward the goods exit, a small side archway. Sylvalla turned Swift in a tight circle, to follow Francis. Phibiam geed his horse, and it took off after the others. Dirk, having planned a different escape route, was wrenched off course. Being light on his feet, he soon caught up. He tried to swallow his panic. Not because things were going badly, but because everything was going very well. Too well.

Sylvalla and the king were of much the same mind. Something was about to go wrong. Only sheer stupid bravado had got them this far. Their luck could not hold up for much longer.

Francis hardly noticed their heavy mood. He was too ecstatic.

This was his opportunity, and no matter how slim the odds of success, he was at last free.

The best part was when he heard the musical words, “I think you’ve really earned that silver, boy.” And it wasn’t even Sylvalla who had spoken.

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