Where Lies Adventure!

CHAPTER 2 Resolve            “You want us gone,” the mare Malmira finally said, giving material breath to the immaterial quest that had been shaping itself in Shepherd’s mind from that day he decided to seek for answers.   “Not only gone…destroyed.”             Shepherd stood up straight; a son prepared to defend himself against the accusations of mischief.   He inhaled, coming to the very cusp of speech when…             “No,” Malmira interrupted him: halted him.   “Not to me alone will you plead your case.   Come.”             Shepherd blinked in the face of the mare, and when he opened his eyes he saw that they were no longer on the Green Steppes looking down on the city of Malmot.   Instead, he found himself...

CHAPTER I The White Mare         The white mare cantered softly up the Green Steppes.   The great hill extended so far in each direction, and rose to so great a height, that it forced travelers journeying south to ride leagues out of their way to round it.   For although it was not a difficult terrain to traverse, it was a sea of green that rose steadily up; like a wave that offered no easy road down the other side of it.       To reach the crest of the hill, however, would yield a majestic view of the city of Malmot.   Half encircled by the Green Steppes, the small, crescent shaped city resembled nothing so much as a child nestled peacefully in the crook of its mother’s arm.   The sun was setting, yet even in the encompassing dark the mare shone as a perfect streak of white.   It would have been easily discernible by any mortal eye, had there been mortals on so remote a height.   Yet there were none ...

Prologue It was dark in the Wayward Foal.   Candles lined the bar of the tavern’s small common room, and across the way a healthy fire crackled in the cramped hearth that was set upon the stage; but they did naught more than give a glimpse of the place and the folk who drank there.   Friendly faces and full-bodied conversation were replaced by snatches of silhouettes and hushed whispers.   It became abundantly clear, after spending a few moments in the Wayward Foal, that this place was dark by design.   To drink here meant to deal in secrets.             The clunk of wood on wood echoed in the room, bringing even the whispers to an end.   A bowed and bent figure took the stage, blocking out the hearth with its darkened bulk.   The scratch of something being dragged across the small wooden platform filled the air for a moment, and then the figure turned to the crowd and f...