Free Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) by Trevor H. Cooley Page A

But why should you be ashamed of being a Vriil? Ho, the Vrill bloodline is laden with power. This goes back to the days before there was a Dremaldria. Long before they were nobility, the name Vriil brought a shiver to men .”
    Willum frowned. The imp had never told him that before. “How do you know this?”
    “ Ho-ho! I have been around a long time. A very long time, Willy! And in that time I have heard the name Vriil often. You come from a long line of wizards and warriors .”
     “Hmm.” The imp had definitely piqued his interest. What else did it know of his heritage? Willum nearly asked Theodore that question, but then the awful visage of Ewzad Vrill rose in his mind as it had on the day of the great battle at the Mage School. With a shudder, he thrust his interest aside. “I want nothing to do with my foul ancestors.”
    “ Oh, Willy-Willy, don’t blind yourself to the past ,” said the imp. “ Your heritage wasn’t always foul. No, your ancestors were known for good as well as evil. Granted, the good ones were few and far between, but ho-ho, they were there and some of them were truly great. World changers, even .”
    “I don’t want to change the world, Theodore. I just want to-.”
    “ Do what, Willy? Ho, some weeding perhaps? Ho-ho! Muck out the barn for the rest of your life? Let your proud heritage fade to dust while you accomplish nothing of meaning ?”
    “Oh, shut up,” Willum said, rolling his eyes. He reached the first fork in the road and headed east, passing the frosted fields owned by Coal’s wife Becca.  Several men were out mending fence lines. A few of them waved to him. “What do you want me to do? You told me you didn’t like the idea of me accepting Lord Commander Demetrius’ invitation.”
    With Ewzad Vriil dead, Willum was the last of the Vriil bloodline. Demetrius wanted Willum to come and take control of the Vriil lands and holdings. If he didn’t claim them, they would be given to one of the other noble houses. He had given Willum until the end of winter to decide.
    “ Ugh, no, Willy ,” said the imp. “ Noble life is almost as boring as farm life. You just don’t have to wipe your own hind end. Although . . . now that I think of it, there are some funny tricks that you could play on the other nobles .”
     “This is all about your amusement, isn’t it? You don’t really care about what would make me happy,” Willum griped. “Not that I should be surprised.”
    “ Of course I want to be amused. I’m stuck in this axe and your life is the only one I get to experience ,” the imp said, sounding offended. “ This, however, doesn’t mean I don’t care. Ho! I wasn’t wrong when I said you would be bored here .”
    “Do you want to know the biggest advantage I have from being bonded at the age of four?” Willum asked.
    The imp sighed. “ Here it comes .”
    “I know how to tune you out,” Willum said, closing off his connection to the axe. He smiled in satisfaction. The imp could still monitor him, but it couldn’t interrupt his thoughts.
    “Hey! Willum!” called out a voice to his left and Willum turned to see a man loping across the frozen pasture towards him, a long spear held in one hand.
    “Morning, Benjo,” Willum replied with a smile.
     Benjo was a big man. Not fat, but solid. Years of working on the farm and in the forge had molded him into an impressive physical specimen. He was Becca’s son from her first marriage and was a couple years older than Willum. He’d been the closest thing Willum had to a playmate growing up.
    “Oh! Sorry,” Benjo said. He hopped over the fence and came to a stop at Willum’s side. He had a goofy-looking grin on his face. “I guess it’s ‘Lord Willum’ now.”
    Willum put a hand to his forehead. The big man had been teasing him like this ever since he arrived back at the farms. “Come on, Benjo. Give me a break. We’re brothers.”
    Benjo snorted. “Coal might’ve adopted both of us, but that don’t