A Long and Full Life

By Roy Emond

When young Matt is asked whether he wants a long or full life, he replies that he wants both! So begins a great adventure that turns a simple village boy into a trained warrior and mage. His travels with a trusted group of companions leads Matt to use his battle training, magic, and common sense to overcome increasingly dangerous encounters. Humor, romance, and adventure mark a new beginning to this fantasy realm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524563646

Roy Emond

While on a business trip, the airport bookstore offered nothing new to read. Roy Emond decided to write his own version of the genre he loved—fantasy. He desires to add a small part to the worlds started by Tolkien. This retired teacher invites you to join him in this labor of love.

Book preview

Chapter One

S UDDENLY THE SKY was purple and full of stars. `That’s odd’ thought Matt Wredd, `It’s the middle of the day. Why is it getting darker?’ Matt was lying flat on his back on top of a small rise southwest of Master Morrow’s ranch house. He had been trying to break a new black colt. Now he was flat on his back and seeing stars.

He heard a noise and stretched his neck backwards to see its source. It was the colt coming back to the scene of the crime. It was standing there eight feet away staring at the young man it had just thrown. The black colt was a beautiful horse, strong and fluid in its movements. Matt had been working the past two weeks trying to get the horse to trust him. Trust was beginning to come between the two but it was still a horse. Master Morrow, who had taken the orphan in after his mother died, had only one piece of advice when working with horses. Remember son, a horse will carry you a thousand miles to kick you once!

Matt was particularly reminded of this advice as he struggled to lift himself up. He was on his feet and looking at the colt. `I’ve just got to take it easy’ he thought. `No sudden movements, he’s just scared.’

Easy big boy, he soothed. It’s okay. Easy big fellow.

Matt approached the horse and held out his hand palm up just as the colt had gotten used to every morning. Matt walked slowly making soft easy sounds hoping not to upset the young horse. He was within reach and the colt touched the outstretched hand with his nose. Matt smiled. He had a way with horses.

Like lightning, the black colt bolted away and galloped full speed the mile and a half to the ranch. Matt shook his head and followed, walking.

Matt Wredd was the only orphan in the village of Montross in the district of Sonju. Master Morrow’s ranch was two miles west of the village. Many afternoons before the evening meal and after the day’s work, Matt and the rest of the young people of the area gathered in the village square. The well in the center of the village square was the focal point of these late afternoon meetings. Small children laughed and played. Old men lounged on the six wooden benches arranged in a rough circle around the well. Women came to the well to work; either drawing water or gossiping or attracting men.

The young women walked slowly near the well and even more slowly near a young man who interested them. A few lingered near some special young man, a sure sign that a bond would soon be posted, a marriage would soon take place. The soft words of these lingering conversations were a sharp contrast to the loud words bantered between the boys and the girls who still walked quickly.

Although Matt came to the well most days and laughed and joked with the other boys, no young woman lingered near him. He was talked to and even liked by some of the girls but he had not caught the eye of any girl in particular. This brought a great deal of relief to Matt.

It was an afternoon just after the longest day of the year. Three days after. Knowing that autumn and cooler weather were getting closer did little to comfort the village. The old men were leaving their houses and slowly making their way to the well. They greeted each other in the same order as yesterday. In the same order as tomorrow. The greetings were cordial between those who sometimes quarreled and friendly between allies. The wisest old men brought pads to lessen the heat of the wooden bench seats.

This day was like a thousand before it and like a thousand to come, except for the small group of riders coming from the east. The four men were fighters. It was obvious to anyone who took the time to look. Long swords and small shields hung from each saddle. Two men carried six foot long spears tipped with a foot of shiny steel. The largest man carried a crossbow and a rack of six black arrows hooked to his saddle horn, ready. The smallest man carried no extra weapons but that fact did not lessen the feeling of strength, power and danger that emanated from him. Careful scrutiny showed enough sameness about their clothes that one would call them soldiers. Not rare in these parts, but not common either.

They rode slowly into the village. Their horses walked carefully, as if looking for trouble. The men’s eyes moved slowly also, looking at nothing but seeing everything. The villagers watched them. The oldest and the youngest stared openly while the middlers glanced, wondering what trouble was coming with the riders. The riders came to the center of the village, to the well. They inspected the crowd. The light was beginning to turn orange around the sun as it slowly prepared to set. The two groups looked at one another, quietly.

The smallest soldier got off his horse and with his reins in his hands addressed the group of old men.

My name is Dulci. My mates and I would appreciate some water, for us and our horses. If you don’t mind, the small man said.

The old men, approving of the courtesy of the asking, nodded their heads. Jonal Bork, one of the oldest and wisest, stepped forward a little.

Help yourselves and welcome. You’ll find no want. Not in this well, not this year, Jonal said.

Thank you, Good Masters, the small man replied. He motioned the other riders toward the trough at the side of the well. They dismounted and led the horses to drink. There was a cup on the ledge of the well next to the bucket. The large man leaned his crossbow against the well and lowered the bucket to get fresh water for the men and horses to drink. As the soldiers busied themselves with watering the horses, the old men returned to their conversations. Talking but also watching and certainly thinking. They made no attempt to engage the soldiers in discourse. The soldiers didn’t seem to mind. Both groups waited for the next motion.

As the time for work drew to a close, other villagers made their usual trek to the well. The soldiers were relaxed standing far enough from the well not to impede anyone but close enough to see everything. The four soldiers watched the villagers come to the well. Old women and children were dismissed with a glance. The men of the village were assessed longer but none drew a long look. As the young men and young women came to the well, the interest of the soldiers sharpened. Each young person was studied closely. The eyes of each soldier weighing, measuring the outside and guessing what was on the inside. From time to time, the men passed soft words about one youngster or another. Nods accompanied gestures. Mental tallies were being taken. A list was being made.

No other youngster came to the well. They were all there. Young men and young women still involved in their rituals with four added players. Quiet, temporary men who were very much here now and hopefully soon gone.

What has been different today? Matt thought as he walked the two miles from Master Morrow’s ranch to the village. Did anything happen today? Anything to make today different from yesterday, or different even from tomorrow. Did today even happen? Maybe today was yesterday. Maybe every day is just the same day over and over again.

Matt sighed and kept walking.

Maybe I’m nuts! he said out loud. Maybe I need a hat to keep the sun from drying up my brains.

Cresting the tip of a low rise Matt could see the village. The shortcut across the hayfield saved at least a mile of walking. Important distance and important time to a young man eager to get to the village and the well and his friends. Matt’s step picked-up and he started humming.

I wonder if sweet green-eyes is there yet, he wondered. Sweet green-eyes was Clarr Bisson. She was about Matt’s age and pretty. Not beautiful as some others might be, but pretty. At least she was the prettiest of the girls who had shown some interest in Matt.

Master Morrow had told Matt a simple truth one evening after supper.

You’ll find out for yourself, someday, but I’m gonna save you some time, boy, you won’t attract all women. Some women you’re interested in will find you plain. It’ll make you sad. Break your heart, but that’s the truth. Concentrate on the ones that find you attractive. Forget the others, you’ll have no chance. Some women will find you the handsomest man they’ve ever seen. Them’s the ones you want. Find one of them that you fancy and you’ll both be happy.

Having said his piece, he took one last look at the moon to check tomorrow’s weather and went inside. Matt stayed on the front porch for a long time that night. Past his bedtime. Past when Master Morrow turned out the lamps. Long into the night, studying what the old rancher had said.

Longest speech I ever heard him make. Makes sense, kind of. Not such a bad old guy.

Matt’s thoughts drifted back to sweet green-eyes and the village and then he was there. He continued straight to the well and noticed a lot of people there. He usually was later than most folk but there seemed to be even more people than normal. There, in the crowd, he picked them out. Strangers.

As he got closer he saw the other villagers sneaking peeks at the four men. He could see these were not ranchers or farmers or villagers. These were fighting men. Perhaps even soldiers. They appeared casual but alert. The largest one saw Matt first. He gave the young man a quick thorough appraisal. He nudged the short man who turned around and looked Matt straight in the eye.

The first thing Matt noticed was that the short man had green eyes the exact same color as Clarr’s. Those eyes were set in a face capped by a leather helmet. The man wore a chain mail shirt over a gray leather jerkin belted at the waist. Tucked into the belt were two daggers with plain hilts. Gray leather pants tucked into black boots just below the knee. A third dagger could be seen sticking out of the man’s right boot. The short man looked calm. Dangerous and calm. Matt thought the man was beginning to smile when his attention was called away by one of the spear carrying soldiers. He turned away quickly. Matt walked to a group of young people on the other side of the well.

Hello Tom. Tom, he said to the two young men sharing the same first name. They could have been twins. `First-name’ brothers they called themselves.

Hi, Matt. Hello, said first one then the other.

How are you this evening? Matt said to Clarr.

Hello, Foreign Master, she replied, teasing but not too badly. I need to talk to you. Later. About something important, she said smiling.

Clarr walked past Matt squeezing between him and the first Tom. Even after she had joined a group of girls, Matt could feel her arm brushing against his as she passed.

Hmm, yes sir, said the second Tom teasing Matt.

Important. Later, breathed the other Tom. Both broke into laughter and Matt shoved them as he turned red.

That’s enough of that, he said.

The two Tom’s quit laughing but couldn’t help giggling. Matt started to giggle, too.

A silent signal is given by the shortest soldier and the four men move toward one young person or another. The short man came to the group with the two Tom’s and Matt.

Well met, young sirs. My name is Dulci from near Galtook. Might I ask your names?

Tom Benson, replied the first Tom.

Tom Cooper, replied the other.

The short man turned to the larger boy.

Matt. I’m Matt Wredd.

My friends and I were having a discussion on the nature of life. You look as if you have some experience, so tell me, continued the fighting man. Which would be better, a long life or a full life? You, Tom Benson, tell me what you think.

We’re farmers, sir. I help my Pa and my Grandpa work the farm. My Gre-grandpa still keeps the barn neat and tidy and him not being able to see ten feet! A long life for me, if you please. It runs in the family!

Dulci listened carefully and nodded at points. He turned his attention to the other Tom.

Come young master Cooper, your desire. A long life or a full life?

Well, sir. It’s like this. There’s all these girls, beautiful girls. And even the other girls, well, they’re all pretty, you know, in some ways. Well, there’s all these girls. And well… I’ve kissed three of them and well… I’ve promised myself, I’ll kiss them all.

The short man grinned. You see well, young sir, to the heart of things. A full life you’ve chosen. Turning to Matt he looks up to him. And you, Matt. Matt Wredd. You’ve heard their tales, wisely told. Which do you choose, long or full?

Matt stared into the green eyes of the short man.

Both. I’ll do anything to have both!

The short man’s face went serious and it seemed for the first time he brought his full attention to Matt.

Why did I say that? Matt thought. It sounded like a fool thing to say. He probably thinks I’m full of myself, talking like the hero of a tale instead of a village boy.

The short man looked Matt up and down. Turn around.

Matt faced away from him but he could still feel the hard eyes on him.

Now face me, if you please, young master.

Matt turned at the command. He knew it was a command. The `if you please’ and `young master’ had been spoken but clearly not meant. Matt faced the soldier and looked down into his face.

Size and strength I can see for sure, he said. Are you fast?

Yes sir, he’s fast. replied the second Tom before Matt understood the question.

Fast he is, added the first Tom. On a fast horse!

Both Tom’s broke out laughing. It was a wide standing joke about Matt’s fleetness of foot. He was, in fact, a less than average runner. Matt shoved the Toms but they still laughed.

Not fast but I bet you for a long haul traveler, replied Dulci. Do you fight much?

No sir, Matt answered quickly. Well, not much really.

The Toms were still giggling. Matt pointed to Tom Cooper. I did break his nose, once when he wouldn’t let up. Matt said with a little more anger than he intended.

I’m sure you did, said the short man smiling knowingly. Please, sirs, kindly let me and Matt have a word or two, in private, if you take my meaning. The Toms, who had sobered up, took his meaning and walked away leaving Matt and Dulci to themselves on the edge of the people gathered at the well.

You’re big and strong, but not fast. You think before you talk. You can be calm but no one pushes you too far. All well and good.

Matt was pleased to hear the assessment. He was also curious about what it meant. What purpose did this short soldier have in mind? The soldier held his hands out bending his arms at the elbow with the palms up parallel to the ground.

Let’s play a little game. Put your hands on mine palm to palm. Matt did as he was told. Dulci’s hands under his felt cool and dry to the touch. Matt’s were warm but not wet with sweat, not yet.

Here’s the game. I’ll try to touch the back of your hand. You move your hands away when you feel my hands start to move. One point for me if I touch your hands or if you move yours without mine having started. One point for you if I miss. Five chances each way. If you score one point you get a silver penny.

A silver penny! Matt had never owned a silver penny. He hadn’t even held one in his hand. More money than a farmer made in a month.

Okay, No wait, what do you get if I lose?

Lose, how can you lose? One point out of ten?

I’ve never played, there may be some trick.

No sir. No tricks. Just skill and talent. All right, if I win, you curry my horse. Deal?

Well, all right, Matt agreed. Heck, he thought, I’d curry his horse if he asked politely. A silver penny!

Matt placed his hands on Dulci’s hands. His were longer by an inch but only just wider.

Smack!

The back of his right hand was stinging. Dulci’s right hand had crossed over and slapped his hand, turning it red in an instant.

That’s one. Try again.

Matt put his hands down again curving the fingers slightly trying to get an advantage.

Smack!

Matt’s left hand was now in the same condition as his right.

Two. Try again.

Smack!

Dulci’s right hand had hit his right turning over faster than lightning.

Three. Come On!

Smack! Smack!

A double hit but just barely on his right hand.

Four. Once more. Try looking in my eyes.

Matt looked into the man’s green eyes. They didn’t move but Matt felt a flinch…

Smack!

Five to zero. Now you do the striking. Matt held out his hands and they were covered by Dulci’s smaller hands. They were smaller but looked strong, very strong.

Take your time. Strike when you’re ready.

Wait, wait… Go! His right hand twisted swiftly but not swiftly enough. He struck only air.

Six.

Matt held out his hands again. They were again covered with smaller cool hands. Fake with the left then go with the right. Only air.

Seven, but a plan. Definitely a plan!

Trying to think, Matt at last started to sweat. The eyes Dulci had said. He looked into those green eyes. They looked back. Matt exhaled and halfway through his next inhale he struck. Again only air!

Eight. Some people think the eyes are the `window to the soul.’ The eyes can tell a lie as well as tell the truth. Try again. Only two more chances.

Damp hands were held out. Surprise,’ Matt thought, must surprise him, so surprise myself.’ Of their own volition, Matt’s right hand flicked out. Dulci’s hand was moving in unison but the very tip of Matt’s longest finger grazed a thumb.

Yes! yelled Matt.

A touch, I do confess it. Well done. Eight to one with one more chance. Again.

As Matt’s hands began their movement, for his last chance, his targets twisted and grasped his wrists. He could not move them.

A touch but far from enough, Dulci said seriously. He then smiled and released his hold. He produced a silver penny from his pouch and held it out to Matt.

I don’t really deserve, Matt began.

Take it. You may never earn another, Dulci told him. Matt took the silver penny but he did not look at it. He looked at this small man before him and thought of how he could move his hands like lightning. And how his wrists hurt from the iron grip.

Dulci turned and motioned toward the large soldier.

Yar, bring me the rod, he said. The large soldier walked toward them with a thin brown rod in his hands. It was about two feet long and appeared to be wood because of the color. There was a large round bulb at one end of the rod. Yar gave the rod to Dulci.

Anybody? Dulci asked.

Naw, nobody for us. Maybe one girl but I’m not sure. We’ll have to send for the ladies to tell for certain. How about this big’en? he asked pointing at Matt.

Matt looked at the hand pointed at him and was even more impressed by the formidable soldier. He was four inches taller than Matt and wider at the shoulder. His clothing was similar to Dulci’s but less fine. Matt noticed that his arms seemed extra-long.

Dulci looked from the soldier to Matt and grinned.

Oh, I think he’ll do fine. Young and raw, just the way me and the captain like them.

Why worry with the rod?

Don’t know just a hunch. He grasped the rod by what appeared to be a ringed handle and walked closer toward Matt. He smiled at the younger man. This will not hurt.

Now, he was only four feet away and the bulb at the end of the rod seemed very large. At this distance the rod no longer appeared wooden but rather shiny and polished and smooth, like well-worn stone.

Take the rod with your right hand and put the tip in the palm of your left hand. That’s right. No, lightly. Yes. Yes, okay. Now, just hold it there. Matt could feel the rod against his palm. It was not hot. Something began to move into his hand. It was a feeling, nothing that hurt but it was moving deeper in his hand towards his wrist. Moving faster now it was at his elbow, his shoulder, straight up his neck into his head. Matt’s eyes closed. His ears closed. All his senses `closed.’ The world was dark and quiet and still. He was alone.

There was a snap and a soft white light. The light focused into a clear vision of the village and the well. All the people were…

Dulci suddenly jerked the rod out of Matt’s hand and his senses returned to normal. It was getting dark and many of the villagers had left and the rest were preparing to follow them. Matt was alone with Dulci with Yar looking over his shoulder. The two spear carrying soldiers were getting the horses ready. Still looking at Matt, Dulci said to Yar, I’d say that was a big yes! Not enough to turn him straight over the Order, but he’s got the talent. Here, put it away.

Turning to Matt his grin turned into a smile.

You felt it, didn’t you? Dulci asked.

What?

I don’t know what. I can’t feel it, I don’t have the power. But I’ve seen it enough to be able to tell the talent working in someone else. Oh, my young friend, you’ve got it. That’s why you have to come with us.

Go with you! Where?

You don’t belong here in this bitsy village, boy. The world has opened its door for you. And you’ve got to step through it.

Dulci turned away from the stunned young man and walked to his horse. He mounted easily and walked his horse over to Matt. The others came with him.

This big fellow is Yar. That’s Bilt, the one who talks more than he should and Tal, he’s quiet. We’re your new mates. Part of your team. We’ll be back to pick you up at sunup, just at the top of the first hill on the East-West road. Bring sturdy work clothes and one pouch of personal things. We’ll have a horse for you. Come on, lads.

They turned their horses to head back the way they came and trotted off. Tal and Bilt in the lead, then Yar, then Dulci.

How do you know I’ll be there? Matt yelled.

Dulci stopped his horse but did not turn around.

You have it and I know it. There is no long and full life for you here.

They rode out of the village.

Chapter Two

M ATT’S EYES LOOKED over the village and the surrounding countryside from the top of the first hill on the East-West road. He was sitting on a large