The Fabled Beast of Elddon Read Online Free PDF Page A

all began talking at once. Baron Leofrick
turned a disapproving scowl on them. “Be silent, all of you, or I shall have
you removed.”
    “My
lord,” Tristan said as the conversation stilled. “You have a chance here. We
can help you.”
    “And
just how do you think you can help?” Baron Leofrick intoned, his voice like that
of a petulant child.
    “My
friend, Ander, is a great warrior, m’lord, a fierce Northman who grew up with a
sword in his hand. He is brave as an eagle and fierce as a lion. He has fought
many battles. I have witnessed his prowess first hand.”
    “Very
poetic,” Baron Leofrick said, clearly unimpressed. “What of it?”
    “M’lord,
he is the champion you need to slay this beast, to put an end to it once and
for all.”
    Baron
Leofrick smiled, a swift, mirthless expression that was quickly replaced by his
more permanent look of sour discontent. “You must be mad. This Northman is no
champion.”
    “My
lord,” Ander said, swallowing his anger and speaking slowly, “we only want to
save Ryia, and she is with the beast or will be soon. Let us go and you have my
word that we will face this monster of yours. If we fail, you are rid of us,
but if we succeed then Ryia will be saved and your kingdom set free.”
    “We
can end all this,” Tristan added, “if you will but give us a chance.”
    “No,”
the baron said without consideration. “I think not. I do not believe you and
your friend can destroy the beast, and you would only bring its wrath down upon
us. It is better that you die here, and that will be an end to it. For you at
least.”
    At
these words, Ander leapt to his feet, stomping on one man’s foot and shoving a
second soldier out of the way. He lunged forward, but Sir Egan was there to trip
him up, driving a fist into his belly and knocking him to the floor.
    “Enough
of this nonsense,” Baron Leofrick said. “I’ve had quite enough excitement for one
day. Take them away and throw them into the dungeon.”

Chapter 4

 
    The
road from Elddon into the mountains was little more than a goat track, meandering
back and forth as it climbed up through the trees. Ryia slumped against the
bars of her cage, feeling wretched and more afraid than she cared to admit. The
infuriating part was that she knew these men, had known them for much of her
life, but now they were like strangers to her, cold and distant, and seemingly without
remorse.
    She
wondered what had become of Tristan. The last view she had of him he was on the
ground, bloodied but alive. For nearly a year she had thought of him, wondered
how he was faring on his adventure, longing for his return. She had begun to
wonder if she would ever see him again and then, on arguably the worst day of
her life, there he was. It was not the reunion she had hoped for. Worse than
that, it was her fault. He might never have come had she not written to him to
tell him about the beast and all the terrible things that had happened to
Elddon during his absence. Writing that letter had been a terrible moment of
weakness, and now she regretted it more than ever.
    When
her father died, it had been a terrible blow to her, but Tristan had been
there, as always, to see her through the worst of it. Her father had left her
his lands and the small house they had shared, along with a few horses and some
sheep. Most of it had been sold to pay debts, even the house, but she had kept
enough to open a small shop in the village, selling herbs and poultices,
offering advice on healing and caring for wounds. It was something she had
always been good at, something that interested her. She had managed to hang
onto the land as well and hoped that she and Tristan would be able to live
there one day. Maybe start a farm and raise a few pigs. It would be a simple
life, but rich enough if they had each other. But now she had lost everything, her
father’s land, her freedom, Tristan, and soon enough her life as well.
    Two
soldiers rode along behind the cart and