Devlin's Luck Read Online Free PDF Page A

tossed it in the direction of the minstrel. “Take the new Chosen out and buy him a round of drinks. He’ll need it.”
    Devlin turned toward Captain Drakken and held out the sword. “Thank you for lending your sword,” he said.
    She shook her head. “It is yours now.”
    “I have no use for a sword. I can use a war-axe and a transverse bow, but I have never learned the sword.” At his age it was too late to start. Young warriors spent a decade mastering the sword.
    “Nonetheless it is yours. Perhaps you will find a use for it someday.” She unbuckled her sword belt and held that out to him. “Here, you’ll need this as well. Don’t worry, this was but my practice sword. I have another in my quarters.”
    “Thank you,” he said awkwardly. He was in her debt. He would have to find a way to repay her, for he had sworn never to be in anyone’s debt again.
    “So what happens now?”
    Captain Drakken grinned. “You mean, do the Gods send an immortal emissary to announce your quest?”
    The ghost of a smile touched his lips as he realized his own foolishness. Truly he had never thought about what would happen once he was Chosen. He realized that, deep inside, he’d never thought he would live through the ceremony. But it seemed that the Gods were not finished with him yet. He wondered what more they would require of him, before Lord Haakon would condescend to accept his death.
    “Something like that,” he said shortly.
    “In theory, either the King or myself, as Captain of the Guard, can give you a commission. But for the most part the quests will find you. Some half-starved peasant will arrive at the palace with a story of marauders or magical plagues, and you’ll find yourself compelled to go off and investigate.”
    Compelled. He repressed a shiver at the reminder of the Geas that now bound him to the service of this land and this strange people.
    Captain Drakken must have sensed his change of mood. “No sense worrying; trouble will find you soon enough. For now I’d suggest you follow Master Dreng’s advice, and get drunk. When you sober up, ask a servant to direct you to the chief steward of the castle. Show him the ring, and he’ll show you to your quarters, and give you the first half of your reward.”
    The reward. He had nearly lost sight of the reason that he had come here. Ten solid gold disks for having passed the trial and been declared Chosen One. And another ten, payable on his death or retirement. It was a fortune, more coin than he could have earned in a dozen years as a metalsmith, or a lifetime as a farmer.
    Devlin nodded.
    Captain Drakken looked him over. “I’ll give you one thing. You’re the damnedest Chosen we’ve ever had. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is too soon to tell. But you’re bound to cause a stir at court.”
    The sun beat down on the courtyard as Devlin left the temple, and he realized that it was still early afternoon. Strange, he could have sworn that the ceremony had taken longer.
    Stephen followed him outside. “Chosen One, it would be an honor to take you for a round of the best ale or finest wine in Kingsholm.” The young minstrel looked like a puppy begging for a treat.
    “Not now,” Devlin said. He looked around, but realized that he was lost. “First, can you direct me to the guardhouse where we spent the night? I should collect my pack. And then I want to find the chief steward.”
    Stephen happily agreed to serve as his guide. He led Devlin back to the gaol, where Sergeant Lukas greeted their return impassively. He offered no congratulations on Devlin’s survival, but handed over his pack without comment.
    Next Devlin went to the Royal Steward’s office. At first the steward seemed inclined to dismiss Devlin as a nuisance. Even when Stephen announced that his companion was the new Chosen One, the steward looked skeptical. Devlin finally had to produce the ring and invoke its power to prove his credentials.
    Once he realized that