Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

gradually becoming distinguishable again. Then he noticed moving bodies passing beside him. Finally, when he was able to see clearly again, he saw the Saxons running away in complete chaos, stepping over each other in the process.
    Samuel turned his head and saw more men running down the steep slope. Some rode on horses and pointed spears in front of them, while other carried heavy shields and brandished silver swords. The boy did not immediately understand what had happened, but then he saw the rest of his group waving delightedly to the newcomers.
    “Blessed be the Lord!” cried Malloy. “Reinforcements at last.”
    The new Briton soldiers passed the group without acknowledging them, focused on their pursuit of the enemy. The knights quickly reached the slowest ones and showed no mercy to the barbarians. When the last of them had passed, Samuel and his companions finally exhaled, still thanking Heaven for the miracle that had just happened.
    “I’m glad we got here in time,” said a voice from behind them.
    It belonged to a tall and stalwart man, wearing iron armor and a red cape. On his head was a helmet similar to the one Kaleb wore, like those of the ancient Roman centurions. However, unlike the copper one of the officer, this one was made of silver, with a red brush on top of it. The face of the man was riddled with scars—signs of a life full of adventures and danger. His eyes were dark, but spoke of wisdom and courage.
    This was the kind of man that entire armies would follow without question, thought Samuel.
    “Not as glad as we are to see you, my lord,” answered the leading officer. “My name is Kaleb Hingolen and these are my men.”
    “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kaleb. I am Ambrosius Aurelianus.”
    At the mention of the name, all the men accompanying Samuel bent their heads and immediately kneeled to the ground. Samuel thought it would be wise to do the same.
    “Please, there is no need for such demonstration, I assure you,” continued Ambrosius.
    The soldiers slowly got back up to their feet, though most kept their eyes lowered.
    “If I may ask, my lord” said Kaleb, “what was the trickery you used to blind the enemy in such an efficient manner?”
    “That would be my doing,” a high voice from behind Ambrosius answered proudly.
    A young boy, no older than seven or eight, appeared from under the cape of the commanding man.
    “I blinded them, so they would not attack you.”
    “In that case, you have my eternal gratitude, my boy,” replied Kaleb. “What is your name?”
    “I’m the one you came for, Kaleb. My name is Myrddin Emrys.”

CHAPTER 11

    After Ambrosius and the Briton reinforcements had rescued Samuel and his companions, they pursued the Saxons for a short while before regrouping around their leader. A few monks accompanying the soldiers took care of Atwood’s wound and awakened his brother Darroch. Fortunately, Darroch had not suffered any serious injury, other than a dent in his pride.
    Once the Britons were confident that the Saxons had been chased away and that no scout was following them, they escorted Samuel’s group back to their base camp, the abbey that held Myrddin Emrys.
    It took the men a little over an hour to reach their destination. Samuel had expected some kind of cathedral with high bell towers, or a stone building that resembled a prison, where monks lived in isolation. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to find a small village nestled in the woods. As he emerged from a hidden path into the clearing, the first building he saw was a mill where a mule pushed an enormous stone wheel. The fragrance of fresh bread wafted from the bakery attached to the mill.
    In front of this building was the blacksmith workshop, with two red-hot furnaces. A large, sweaty man was striking a blade with a gigantic hammer, helped by two apprentices. Even from a distance, Samuel could feel the heat that radiated from the furnaces. He admired the freshly made weapons on display.
    Next were a few rows of houses and tents, arranged in no particular order. Samuel assumed these accommodations must be for the soldiers accompanying Ambrosius and the many workers of the village, as well as the servants helping the monks in their daily chores.
    As the young man and his companions progressed between the sheds and tents, about a dozen children came running toward them, quickly encircling the group and asking the soldiers about what had happened. It seemed to the Lorekeeper