Free The Troven (Kingdom of Denall Book 1) by Eric Buffington Page B

attention. It was completely free of any scratches. It was perfectly smooth, and reflective as a still pond.
    Turning it over in his hands Bendar commented. “Are you going to keep it?”
    “I don't mind telling you guys that I was great at something, but I'm not wearing women's jewelry,” Kaz replied.
    “You can't just leave it here,” Garin said in a serious tone. “It belonged to her husband, it's really important to her.”
    “I’ll pick it up on my way back home,” Kaz answered. “Gran will never know the difference.” He squirmed on the ground trying to find a spot where the ground didn’t dig into him.
    “What if something happens to it? You can’t just leave it,” Garin protested.
    “If you like it, why don’t you wear it?” Kaz rolled over, grabbed the necklace from Bendar and tossed it to Garin who put it around his neck, but made sure it was hidden by his shirt. Garin didn't want Kaz to throw it away, but he also was not comfortable wearing jewelry so everyone could see.
    “I'll keep it for you for now, but when we get back to the village, you're going to be wearing it.”
    “Deal, you wear it in public, and I'll wear it for Gran,” Kaz said as he rolled over to get some sleep.
    Farin surveyed the campsite, “Just so I'm clear,” Farin said looking deliberately at each boy around the fire. When all the boys were looking at him, he made a confused face as though considering something very important. “Bendar has been quietly moping all day because his stashes were not disturbed and he got exactly what he wanted, Garin is wearing women's jewelry, and Kaz revealed that he likes to knit. I wonder if all journeys to becoming men start with three guys pretending to be ladies.” Before he could even finish his thought several small tufts of sod were thrown at him.
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
    Dune walked into the tavern of the small hamlet in southern Denall and gave a friendly wave to the owner, a tall man in a white apron.
    “Hello, my friend,” the man replied, reaching out a hand in a friendly gesture. “How did your hunting expedition go?”
    “It was unfortunately not as successful as I would have liked,” Dune replied as he removed his leather hunting coat and placed it on a wooden peg on the wall, leaned his longbow up next to it, and looked at himself in a reflective shield that hung on the wall. Although the disguise made him look like a local hunter, his dark, almond-shaped eyes and thick, black hair were a giveaway that he was from even farther south.
    “What are you serving tonight?” he asked. He needed a quiet place to sit and think before he proceeded. When he had arrived in Eaton he had set up two cabins. One was close to town, known among the locals, the other was more of a single room hideaway—a safe house for when things went wrong. He needed to figure out which one was surrounded by traps.
    “Roast mutton stew,” the tavern owner gestured to a simmering pot over the fire in answer to Dune’s question, then began to wipe down a nearby table. “A friend of yours arrived today and said it was your favorite, and that you’d be returning tonight.”
    Dune searched the room for any familiar people.
    “Where is he?” Dune replied after surveying the tavern for his mentor. Kire was the only man who would claim Dune enjoyed mutton stew, but he lived in northern Denall, a distance that would take several months to travel. What is he doing here and how did he find me?
    “He said he’d meet you at your cabin later today.” He smiled wide as he added, “I hope I didn’t ruin any surprises.”
    Dune tried to act casual, while his mind was racing. “How long ago did he leave?”
    “Not long at all,” he responded.
    Dune nodded, and tossed a coin to the man. “Thank you. I’ve got to go.”
    The man nodded as he placed a large bowl on the cleaned table in front of Dune. “What about your stew?”
    “Save some for me, I’ll have some later.” Dune grabbed his bow and