Stranger Passing: A Sword and the Flame Novella

By CP Bialois

Eron Lightheart has always been a dreamer. While thievery is the preferred and respected way of life for a Halfling to embark on, Eron has other plans. Facing a determined sister and mother wishing him to follow the path of his people, the young boy is determined to become a brave warrior.

Reinhart, a warrior with a painful past, is embarrassed to have been caught unaware by a young boy while napping. He takes it upon himself to see the child gets home safely, having no idea he's about to enter a town inhabited by Halflings.

Will this stranger be able to help Eron fulfill his dream?

• Language: English
• Publisher: CP Bialois
• Release date: Apr 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301230662

CP Bialois

Where do I begin? Well first I guess it's only fair to say that CP Bialois isn't my real name. It's a collaboration I made out of the three greatest pets anyone could ever want. My real name is Ed and I'm just an average person that has found a way to do what he loves. For as long back as I can remember I loved to pretend. Whether it was with my Transformers, GI Joe, or He-Man toys I loved to create intricate plots and have them fight it out. As a fan of horror, science fiction, action, and comedy I dare say my taste in movies are well rounded. Some of my favorites were Star Wars, Star Trek, martial arts, and anything with Swarzenegger in them. I'd write my own stories about the characters I saw in the theaters or TV or I'd just daydream about what I'd see myself as the hero of course. You can't have a daydream without beating the bad guys, getting the girl, etc. It's just not right to envision yourself as a flunky or sidekick. As far as books I loved Sherlock Holmes, Treasure Island, Dracula, and the normal assortment. My early love was the Star Trek novels, I'd read them or the Hardy Boys relentlessly. For a time I could tell you the plot of over a hundred books not to mention comics. I have to come clean and say that I learned to read because of comic books. I was bored, make that extremely bored when we started to read in school. Reading "the cat fell down" really didn't interest me. My dad, who continues to astound me with his insight to this day, figured comics would work. With that in mind he went to the newstand in town and bought issues of Donald Duck, Scrooge McDuck, Tales From the Crypt, and Spider-man. He patiently read through them with me until I picked it up. Whether it was him or the comics I learned to read in about two weeks and for a while few were as good as I was. For years after that whenever we'd go out he'd always spring for a couple of comic books for me. While it wasn't exactly the perfect beginning everything I've ever read or have seen has influenced me in some way and now is the time I'd like to share some of the ideas I've had over the years with all of you. I hope you enjoy my stories, they're always fun to write and I don't see myself stopping anytime soon.

Book preview

BOOK 1: STRANGER PASSING

Written by CP Bialois

Copyright 2012/2013

Published by Smashwords 2013

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. An unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and situations are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to thank my wife for putting up with me through the process of putting this together.

To my beta readers, thank you so much for your time and thoughts on how to make this book better.

To R.J.Keith for drawing the cover. You captured the spirit of the book perfectly. Thank you.

To my editors Jamie White and Danielle J. Gomez. Thank you both for your help and input. While we may have disagreed at times, but it only served to make this book the best it could be.

Finally, to all my fans. This wouldn’t be possible without your support and urging. Thank you all so much.

Chapter 1

The cold rain pelted against his cloak as Reinhart’s leather-gauntleted fist hammered against the wooden gate. A moment after his final strike, a grating sound of metal on metal cut through the night air as the gatekeeper pulled aside a slide cover big enough to reveal a portion of his face. The gatekeeper had never been one to appreciate being awakened in the dead of night. Irritable at what his life had become, his grizzled face peered through the opening in a sneer towards the stranger. What in blazes do ya want at such an hour?

Reinhart lifted the hood of his cloak from his head, allowing his eyes to be seen, and locked them on the gatekeeper’s. Entrance into your city.

The gatekeeper stared at him for a few seconds in an effort to size the man and his profession. Men coming to the gate at such a late hour had a reason for doing so, not that it was his business. He just didn’t want to have his job questioned and be put out onto the street like a common beggar. Feeling he was a good judge of character, the gatekeeper nodded and closed the slide cover. Loud clanking noises signaled the locks on the gate were being opened and the door positioned in the center of the massive wooden wall opened enough to allow Reinhart entrance into the small city.

The fact the door opened at all surprised Reinhart, as he expected to be told to move along. Had he been a bandit, this would’ve been a golden opportunity. Whatever reason the gatekeeper had for allowing him entrance, he wouldn’t complain and was pleased to have the opportunity for a dry bed to sleep in for the night. Once inside, the gate closed behind him and he got his first good look at the gatekeeper.

Despite the man’s age, he had a burly build with white tousled hair and dirty beard. The sword held in his right hand was steady, telling more about his combat prowess than would’ve been possible had Reinhart not been deemed worthy of entrance. He wagered the man could’ve face an Ogre and won when he was younger. The look in the man’s eyes told Reinhart his assessment was correct.

Alright, yer in. No trouble from ya, else the Magistrate will have yer skin. There were few duties the man had as gatekeeper, but one of them was to assess anyone entering the city. The new arrival’s demeanor showed his knowledge of weaponry, but unless he did something stupid by the gatekeeper’s post, his skill wouldn’t be tested. With his work done for the moment, the gatekeeper turned towards the small alcove off to the right of the gate. Behind the alcove stood a small stone hut he used as a home when not on duty.

The sight of the man’s dwellings reinforced Reinhart’s conviction when it came to his life on the road. Being a ranger was anything but easy, but it proved more dignified than being thrust aside and having to work for the bread one already earned. Without owing his loyalty to a man or crown, he was free to do as he pleased. At least the man that greeted him had a roof over his head—Many couldn’t claim that much as a benefit to their job following years of service.

Reinhart couldn’t help noticing the man’s severe limp as he walked. Most people walking in such a manner were either born with the malady or suffered an injury of some sort. The way the man held his sword and the look in his eye when he stared Reinhart down left little doubt as to the man’s profession before being retired. Woe to the warrior forced to survive as that wretch was forced to, with no dignity or respect from any but the occasional passing warrior.

The ranger pulled his cloak tight around his neck while forcing the images and thoughts of his own future away. Was it truly better to live with the possibility of having no one to mourn his death? Was the freedom the life of a ranger offered worth dying in some unknown forest on the blade of some half-assed warrior dreamer? The question never bothered him much, but when it did, it made itself known to him with a vengeance.

He spotted what appeared to be a tavern or inn ahead of him before a crossroads. The chances the owner remained awake were slim, but no man turned away silver for a night’s lodging- at least, no sane man. With a chuckle, he continued along his path, allowing his mind to focus on what it wished too. There was nothing for him to be worried about in this small town, as everyone that could pose a threat were either in bed with their loved ones or passed out from drink. Such was the life in the solitary towns in the Wilderness.

He smiled when he drew close enough to make out the sign above the door. The one constant in life, besides death, was the layout of cities and towns. The business areas were easier to spy than the living ones due to their depravity and proximity to the gates. So much the better for him and others of his profession. Without such places, one would need to be part elf or have a bad time of it.

The walk down the narrow street proved to be an adventure in sidestepping rain puddles more than anything else. Reinhart chose not to bother avoiding them. He was already soaked through and it’d take most of the night to dry out his belongings, assuming he’d find a place with a fire at such a late hour. If it were up to him, the rainy season of the southern Wilderness could go to the Abyss along with most of the people living there. Of all the places on the world of Pyrain, he doubted there was anyplace comparable to the Wilderness so far as the dregs and rapscallions.

Striding up to the door, he refocused his thoughts before grasping the doorknob and entering. Much as he expected, the common room was dark with the exception of a low fire in the hearth behind the bar.