The Call of the Crown (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

cheat? Why do you do that?” Gialyn looked down at the Tanner boy.
    “What are you moaning about? You won, didn’t you?” Ealian scoffed as though that were all that mattered.
    Gialyn ignored him. He revelled for a moment in the cheering of his supporters before starting back down the hill.
    It took considerably longer to get down the hill than it did to climb up it. Gialyn had to sit three times and wait for his legs to stop shaking. Once on the ground, he found himself surrounded by folk patting him on the back, congratulating him. Grady put an arm around his shoulder and shook him almost until he fell over. Meric just gave him a hearty pat on the back.
    “Well done, my friend!” he said. His big smile showed he meant it.
    Theo Tanner pushed his lolloping frame to the fore. Ealian followed close behind, his head bowed, gazing at the ground. It appeared the emissary was none too pleased at his son’s failure. I wonder if he told him to cheat.
    “Well done, young Re’adh, a very … determined performance.” He said the words, but his eyes gave the impression he didn’t mean them.
    “Thank you, sir.” Gialyn bowed respectfully , at the same time Grady said, “You are lucky that boy of yours didn’t get a thump around the ear, throwing rocks at Gialyn like that.”
    Theo Tanner ignored the remark. “Be on the stage in half an hour to receive your prize, young man.” He gave a quick sideways glance at Grady and walked off.
    Gialyn raised a brow at Grady, who laughed off his complaint and took him by the shoulder. The three of them—Meric, too—walked back towards the green.
    “Don’t let people like that get the bet ter of you, my boy,” Grady said, “or you’ll be bowing for the rest of your days. They are no better than us. Most are a lot worse.”
    Gialyn nodded as they turned towards the path and crossed the footbridge into the town green. The royal messenger Theo spoke of was on the small stage, reading from a scroll.
    “…of the population can apply. The tax holiday on transported wheat will continue until midsummer’s eve.” A muffled cheer rose from the crowd. “Thereafter, it will return to its previous rate of one bushel in twelve.
    “And the final order of business, a note from his Royal Highness, King Vierdan, sovereign of the most exalted order of the Empire of Moyathair, leader of the House of Eidred, High Seat of Bailryn and Aleras’moya.
    “His Majesty sends greeting to all and a warm invitation to attend the capital on this midsummer’s eve. Upon which time, the Master at Arms shall choose candidates for the position of Palace Guard. Any citizen, meeting the criteria for the aforementioned post, who wishes to apply for the position, should appear in person before th e Master at Arms no later than Miatirdis—Monday at noon—the week of midsummer’s eve. Gods save the king!” The messenger rolled up the scroll and bowed to those gathered.
    “Gods save the king!” the crowd replied.
    The crowd began to thin, many making their way back to the stalls. Many more huddled in groups and talked in varying degrees of interest about what the message contained. Some seemed pleased at the tax cuts; some complained that there shouldn’t be a tax at all! However, none made much fuss over the palace guard recruitments. The position was open to any Surabhan between the age of eighteen and twenty-one. This, in the case of the Geddy Vale, meant no more than five or six at most.
    “Strange he would bother coming all this way for that,” Grady muttered. “He could have just sent a scroll, forty leagues on a barge for a couple of tax announcements and guard recruitment. It makes no sense!”
    Gialyn heard Grady’s mutterings but made no comment. He was still too excited over his victory to give a thought to such things as taxes and guard recruitments.
    “I hear congratulations are in order,” Elspeth said.
    Gialyn’s heart leaped; he couldn’t have been more surprised if she had jumped