Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

looked at the other men around him. They were all strong and proud warriors, staring at him with eyes that reflected the harsh brutality of this world. He suddenly felt exceedingly small among these hardened combatants, unworthy of being part of their group.
    “He certainly did!” answered Malloy. “This boy has more courage than it appears.”
    “If only he could ride better than it appears!” shouted Darroch, holding out his massive sword to examine the result of his work. He and Atwood, who was working on his shield, burst out laughing.
    The remaining four could not help but smile at the joke, including Samuel. Even he knew he was a terrible rider.
    “Hopefully, tomorrow you won’t have to wait for me,” replied Samuel after they had stopped laughing, lowering his head to avoid meeting their eyes.
    “I sure hope so,” added Kaleb. “We cannot afford much delay. Every night we spend on our expedition, our brothers at the main camp must suffer the tremors and blood-chilling shrieks.”
    “What do you suppose they were, those growls?” asked Atwood.
    “Who knows? Maybe it was only the wind,” answered Kaleb.
    “It wasn’t the wind,” intervened Freston, sitting by himself across from Kaleb.
    “To be honest, I thought it was my brother’s stomach,” joked Darroch, but no one seemed to find the statement quite as funny as the first one.
    For a little while they all sat in silence again, staring at the crackling fire and listening to the night’s symphony. An owl signified his displeasure with the intruders, while a few wolves howled deep within the forest. Only the grinding of the sharpening stone against Darroch’s blade interrupted the natural music.
    “I miss my wife,” Malloy murmured. “And my son. Every day, I pray that they are safe and that I shall see them soon.”
    “How old is your son?” inquired Kaleb.
    “He’s seven months old now. I haven’t seen him since he was born. Nonetheless, I thank God every day for this gift and for allowing me to see him. I was lucky enough to remain by my wife’s side while she gave birth, just before I joined the army. With a little luck, I will get to see them soon.”
    “I share your burden, my friend,” answered Kaleb. “I miss my home and my family as well.”
    “I miss the wench at the inn near Glevum!” exclaimed Darroch. “She has got the biggest …”
    “All right, all right. Enough of your ramblings,” intervened Freston. “What about you Samuel, do you miss anyone special?”
    Samuel looked up from the fire and at the archer. It had only been a few days since he had seen his family and his own world, yet it seemed as if he had been gone for ages. He could only imagine the loneliness that must fill his companions’ heart, being denied the touch of their loved ones for months.
    He realized they were not that different from him. They had also been plucked from their homes and their normal lives, and thrown into a conflict they had little control over. They all had something to do before they could go back to their regular lives; a task to accomplish prior to enjoying any peace and prosperity.
    “Of course,” he said. “I miss my father and mother, my sister Shantel and my friends. However, I know I’ll see them again someday, hopefully soon.”
    “Don’t count too much on it,” said Atwood. “Our king, the ‘Great’ Vortigern, seems to be dead set on making all the wrong moves in this conflict.”
    “Atwood!” exclaimed Kaleb. “I will not have you speak about our leader like that on this expedition.”
    “Why not?” said Darroch. “He is right. Vortigern is not the leader he’s depicted to be. So far, all we’ve done in this war is run away from the Saxons. A war he created by inviting the enemy onto our lands, might I add. When are we actually going to stand up and defend ourselves with our swords pointed at the barbarians, instead of at our rear ends?”
    “Isn’t that what he is doing at Dinas Ffaraon?” asked Malloy. He was carving a piece of wood, using a small dagger he wore in a boot sheath.
    “It’s what he has planned, I will give you that much,” conceded Darroch. “However, look where he brought us! The only place in all of Britain where God doesn’t want us to be, and that’s the location he chose to make his heroic stand. It could not have been worse if the devil himself had pointed him to the spot.”
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Darroch. Strategically speaking, it