Free Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) by Jeremy Laszlo

assured,
    Armies would march with him by the score.
    They cleared the lands of the evil it had,
    And brought peace to his world’s doors.
    His quest fulfilled, but man not safe,
    For evil is like a festering sore,
    Needing to ensure the safety of his race,
    Knowing all too well their ancient lore,
    He built a great city, named after his fathers,
    Then arose from the stone, Castle Valdadore.
    For many hundred a year peace was protected,
    The King now growing old and sore,
    He passed his kingdom to his only son,
    Known now as King Sorantore.
    Evil again strikes at our borders,
    Always into the shields of Valdadore.
    But each day the evil grows stronger,
    As dark armies amass once more.
    It seems the dark ones test our defenses,
    Anxious to settle the score.
    Too soon it seems our world again,
    Will be drenched with the blood of war.
    It falls to you, the young and the strong,
    Blessed by the gods at your core,
    To pick up the banners, and the cause,
    And fight for your King Valdadore!”
     
    The song was like none that the boys had ever heard before and the entire room sat enthralled, hanging on every word the old man sang. Even the drunkards at the bar had quieted their clamorous jests to listen to the old codger singing. Finally, when the song came to an end, many a man in the room lifted his mug and shouted, "Long live Valdadore!"
    The old man scrutinized the small crowd, most of them still sitting with their jaws agape. It seemed to him his words had had the effect he intended and so, with effortless grace, he launched his body down from the bar and strolled straight across the room and out the door.
    A few moments had passed since the old story teller had departed. Most of the people within the inn looked from one another in astonished glances, not feeling the warning the grave tale had told them. People started talking again, in hushed voices at first, repeating parts of the tale. The large room grew louder and louder as the twins and Ashton looked at one another, knowing all too well that if the tale were true, The Choosing would be much more uncomfortable than anticipated.
    The boys were engrossed in discussing the old man’s tale when a loud thud followed by a bone shattering crack broke the tension in the room. Across from them, at the bar, stood one of the drunken men holding a stool in his hand. Next to him on the ground lay another drunk, writhing in pain and clutching his face as blood spilled out between his fingers. Several men in the inn stood up. The barkeep, large as he was, ducked behind the counter as if to hide. The large, burly drunk scanned the crowd measuring up those who had stood to intervene. Still holding the stool raised above him in one hand like a club, he turned back to the bar as the barkeep emerged from behind the counter. He was now holding a small crossbow, drawn and loaded. If the drunk persisted, he would drop where he stood.
    “Its time to call it a night, John,” stated the barkeep coolly. “Why don’t you go home? We can square up your tab tomorrow.”
    The drunk, apparently named John looked the barkeep in the face, and then glanced down at the crossbow. Hesitating momentarily, he lowered his stool then let it drop to the stone floor with a clatter. He looked at the man at his feet, turned and walked unsteadily to the door, muttering something about not gonna fight for Valdadore anymore, and how someone was gonna answer for his ruined night. Then he strode, somewhat unevenly, out the door, slamming it behind him.
    Everyone in the room watched him go, apart from Ashton. The gangly blonde bounced out of his chair and weaved himself between the stunned patrons towards the injured man. Coming to his side, Ashton dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, his face turned skywards. His childish features relaxed and he spoke soft words then in prayer to his goddess, and opening his eyes he looked down to the man who lay before him. Lightly grabbing the man’s protective hands, he peeled