Dragonhammer: Volume I Read Online Free PDF Page A

I laugh again.  “Do I get to tell mom?”
    “Sure,” he says.  “Just give it to her soft.”
    “Yep.”
    “Well, I need to get back to work.  I’ll see you tonight.”
    “Will do.”
    On the way home, I pass a large board that has all kinds of things tacked up on it.  There are a couple of “wanted” posters, and notes requesting workers.  What grabs my attention, however, is the parchment tacked in the very middle.  It reads:
     
    Mohonri Calls for Aid
    Upon the second of Rainfall, the city Poalai was put under attack by the armies of Diagrall.  The attack was vigorous but unsuccessful.  Although the city remains under control of Mohonri, the following casualties have been recorded:
    Mohonri: 264
    Diagrall: 314
    Honorable Lord Jarl of Mohonri, Archeantus, heir of late High King Tharantus, sends this request to all able-bodied men that desire to resist the conquest of Diagrall.  More soldiers are needed with every dawn.  You are needed.
    To every man that enlists in the armies of Mohonri, a considerable sum of wealth or land will be bequeathed at the war’s end.
     
    Underneath, the parchment has a list of every clan and their standing in the war reading either hostile, neutral, or ally.  The hostiles read Diagrall, Tygnar, and Zjod.  Ryth, the orcs, and Cumeran, the men of the north, both read “neutral.”  Herak and Gilgal both read “ally.”
    “It’s a sad thing.”
    I turn, startled.  It’s an older man, balding, with thin brown hair and a well-kempt beard.  His eyebrows are thick.  He wears an eye patch over his right eye.  He’s tall and leaning on a cane that he holds in his right hand, and he’s reading the same parchment I had been studying.
    “I’m sorry?” I say.
    “It’s a sad thing to see the world at war again.”
    “Is that where you got your…”  I’m struggling to find the right word, but can’t.
    “No,” he replies.  “I’m not that old.  I got this from a Wvolfa many years ago, when a rogue party of them raided my small town.”
    “That’s terrible.”
    “Indeed.  They’re horrible creatures.  Killing, making off with food and supplies, showing no mercy to women and children.”  Before I can respond, he continues, “This clan, Diagrall.  It’s just like those Wvolfa.  Horrible.  Driven by selfishness.  Conquest to have power over others.”  He looks at me and I glimpse a tear in his eye.  It does not fall.  His age has made him shaky, almost like he’s constantly shivering.  “I wonder how long before they pull away our sons.  Before they pull away our fathers.  Before our crops are burned and our wives ravished.”
    The old man looks me in the eye, as if discerning the darkest corners of my soul.  I return his gaze for a moment, and then he speaks, “But they will have to get through you.”
    I’m a little surprised by his comment, and say only, “We’ll see.”
    He turns slowly and starts to hobble away saying, “It’s a sad thing.”
    When Ethan and Percival ask me what I had been out doing, I just reply with, “Oh, nothing.”
    Gunther arrives a few hours before sundown.  When he walks in, I give him a sly wink and he just raises his eyebrows slightly.
    There’s a knock at the door only minutes later, while we are eating our small bowls of stew.  I lean back in my chair and cross my legs, hiding a small smile with my hand.
    Gunther answers the door and trades a few words with the visitor, and then pulls the door wide open.  “This is Rachel,” he says.  James’ eyes widen.  Percival shifts in his chair and crosses his legs. Ethan takes another bite of stew.
    She’s pretty.  Her eyes are blue and her hair is straight and brown; she has a small, skinny build, but her posture presents her as strong and in charge.  Her smile is brilliant.
    “This is James and Percival, a few friends from Virfith.”  Gunther gestures to each of us as he says our names.  “And this is Ethan and Kadmus, my younger