Keeper of the Eye (The Eye of the Sword Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Mark Shane
golden eyes watched him set off at a trot down the eastern path, weighing him.
C HAPTER 2
Strangers and Familiar Faces
Falon walked with determination though her legs threatened to give out at any step. The journey had been long, but apprehension gave her legs more trouble than fatigue. Ten months she had traveled. Seemed more like years. Now, anticipation and fear washed away all other emotions. Few would accuse Falon of being fearful, but the prospect of meeting the one person who could save her people churned her stomach. What would he say? What would he do? He had to help her. She had come too far, sacrificed too much, for him to refuse.
When she had arrived, a man had given her directions, but none of the houses fit his description. “Excuse me,” she said, stopping a lady with a small boy in tow. “I’m looking for a healer. His name is Max.”
The lady smiled as she looked Falon up and down, sizing her up for some reason.
“Max is a good friend, my dear. Who might you be?”
“Marissa.” It was probably safe to use her real name this far from Shaladon, but it had become habit to use her alias over the last ten months. Besides, she liked being Marissa more than herself.
“Oh my! Marissa is a lovely name, dear,” the woman said very motherly like. “Max is the finest healer in the area. And a fine man. His house is one street over, second on the right. Has a lantern hanging over the blue door.”
She thanked the woman and moved on briskly. For some reason, the woman seemed almost giddy.
She looked down the street, scanning each person, noting every detail. Would she ever be able to stop looking over her shoulder? Not likely , she derided, knocking on the door a little harder than necessary. She smoothed her pants nervously then chided herself when she realized she was doing it. Fool girl, you’re not meeting a king. Still, in some ways he came close. Her trepidation proved to be for nothing as her rapping went unanswered.
Blowing stray hairs out of her eyes, she looked down the street, the way she had come. Stubborn determination, her trademark quality, set in replacing her apprehension. The town square lay in that direction. Perhaps she would find him there.
Two-story houses of rough timber and plaster lined each side of the street. Some people would call them plain, but she saw beauty in their simplicity. They were well built and functional which appeared to carry more importance than show. Many butted against each other with a sporadic alleyway here and there. The women had a knack for making their ordinary homes look warm and inviting. Most had planted flowers of various colors and hues under their windowsills, and many of the houses had varying trim work to make them more original.
Houses gave way to the town square, more oval than square in shape. In the early afternoon sun, the square bustled with activity under a statue of a man holding a blacksmith’s hammer. Carts and outdoor shops with canvas tarps for roofs lined the left side of the square. The merchants barked out the quality of their goods and haggled prices with customers in the same breath. From spices to garments, food to tools, false claims to true cures, everything was for sale.
To her right, shops lined the square. Tailors, jewelers, exporters, and businesses of the higher class were a refined sight. Whatever the social makeup of this town was everyone did their buying and selling within eyesight of each other. It reminded her of home only on a much smaller scale.
She was not going to find him standing on the edge of the square, so she set off for the shops. Perhaps someone there could give her an idea of where “Max the healer” might be found.
***
Max finished haggling with Pier for two wineskins and headed across the square for Brae’s shop. His morning rounds had depleted him of Winslow root and elk weed not to mention the list of herbs he had run out of while in Tanner’s Meadow the past day. Brae was
C HAPTER 2
Strangers and Familiar Faces
Falon walked with determination though her legs threatened to give out at any step. The journey had been long, but apprehension gave her legs more trouble than fatigue. Ten months she had traveled. Seemed more like years. Now, anticipation and fear washed away all other emotions. Few would accuse Falon of being fearful, but the prospect of meeting the one person who could save her people churned her stomach. What would he say? What would he do? He had to help her. She had come too far, sacrificed too much, for him to refuse.
When she had arrived, a man had given her directions, but none of the houses fit his description. “Excuse me,” she said, stopping a lady with a small boy in tow. “I’m looking for a healer. His name is Max.”
The lady smiled as she looked Falon up and down, sizing her up for some reason.
“Max is a good friend, my dear. Who might you be?”
“Marissa.” It was probably safe to use her real name this far from Shaladon, but it had become habit to use her alias over the last ten months. Besides, she liked being Marissa more than herself.
“Oh my! Marissa is a lovely name, dear,” the woman said very motherly like. “Max is the finest healer in the area. And a fine man. His house is one street over, second on the right. Has a lantern hanging over the blue door.”
She thanked the woman and moved on briskly. For some reason, the woman seemed almost giddy.
She looked down the street, scanning each person, noting every detail. Would she ever be able to stop looking over her shoulder? Not likely , she derided, knocking on the door a little harder than necessary. She smoothed her pants nervously then chided herself when she realized she was doing it. Fool girl, you’re not meeting a king. Still, in some ways he came close. Her trepidation proved to be for nothing as her rapping went unanswered.
Blowing stray hairs out of her eyes, she looked down the street, the way she had come. Stubborn determination, her trademark quality, set in replacing her apprehension. The town square lay in that direction. Perhaps she would find him there.
Two-story houses of rough timber and plaster lined each side of the street. Some people would call them plain, but she saw beauty in their simplicity. They were well built and functional which appeared to carry more importance than show. Many butted against each other with a sporadic alleyway here and there. The women had a knack for making their ordinary homes look warm and inviting. Most had planted flowers of various colors and hues under their windowsills, and many of the houses had varying trim work to make them more original.
Houses gave way to the town square, more oval than square in shape. In the early afternoon sun, the square bustled with activity under a statue of a man holding a blacksmith’s hammer. Carts and outdoor shops with canvas tarps for roofs lined the left side of the square. The merchants barked out the quality of their goods and haggled prices with customers in the same breath. From spices to garments, food to tools, false claims to true cures, everything was for sale.
To her right, shops lined the square. Tailors, jewelers, exporters, and businesses of the higher class were a refined sight. Whatever the social makeup of this town was everyone did their buying and selling within eyesight of each other. It reminded her of home only on a much smaller scale.
She was not going to find him standing on the edge of the square, so she set off for the shops. Perhaps someone there could give her an idea of where “Max the healer” might be found.
***
Max finished haggling with Pier for two wineskins and headed across the square for Brae’s shop. His morning rounds had depleted him of Winslow root and elk weed not to mention the list of herbs he had run out of while in Tanner’s Meadow the past day. Brae was
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