Free Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon by Martin Rouillard

Samuel, have you?”
    “No.”
    “Have you even fought in a battle yet?”
    “Well, I’ve been in fights before, but not the kind you mean.”
    Malloy sat down on the dry log, next to Samuel. He put his hands up to warm his palms at the fire.
    “When did you join the army, Samuel?
    “Not long ago, actually.”
    Samuel appreciated the company of Malloy, but he could not help being a little anxious. He had to be careful with his answers and choose his words wisely. At the slightest doubt that he was a spy for the enemy, Malloy would surely pierce him with his sword, without asking any questions.
    “So, if I’m not mistaken, you have not fought with us at the battle of Verulamium. You must have been with us only for a few days, no?”
    “I joined this morning, in fact. I met up with the group at the previous camp.”
    Malloy looked at him carefully. Samuel had the unpleasant feeling he was being evaluated, that the warrior sitting next to him was weighing his words. Malloy, even though he appeared to be barely older than Samuel, was a much more experienced warrior and he had learned to trust his instincts. Right now, it appeared his instincts were still questioning Samuel’s allegiance.
    “Where do you come from?” asked Malloy.
    “A small village, not far from here.”
    “Which one exactly?” insisted Malloy. “Ratae? Lindum?”
    “Yes.”
    Samuel noticed the warrior slowly moving a hand toward his sword.
    “Which one?”
    The situation was quickly escalating and could easily spin out of control. He had to think fast and come up with answers that would satisfy the warrior, or his adventures in this world would be over before they even started.
    “Lindum, I’m from Lindum.”
    “Prove it,” demanded Malloy, now slightly unsheathing his sword. All around them, the men had stopped talking and were now shifting their attention to the young boy and the warrior. These men were trained to recognize potentially explosive situations, and they would not hesitate to join Malloy in disposing of Samuel.
    All of a sudden, Samuel thought of Danny, the school brat. He wondered what how he would react in his position. For the most part, the men around him were real bullies, the kind who would not hesitate to cut your hand, simply to make a point. These men would not be stopped by a school principal or even policemen.
    However, like every good bully, no matter where they were from, they tended to be caught off guard when confronted with courage. When they were facing someone they perceived as weak, bullies usually took pleasure in tormenting their victim, but when their prey turned out to be stronger than expected, they usually retreated into their shells. There was no telling if it would be the right course of action in this situation, but it was the only one Samuel could think of.
    “Listen, stupid, I don’t have to prove anything to you,” answered Samuel, looking Malloy directly in the eyes. “Here, take your stinking pelt back and leave me alone, before things take a very bad turn for you.”
    He unfastened the knot tying the wool coat in place, doing so very slowly, praying his gamble would pay off. But Malloy kept staring at the boy, not moving an inch. The men around the fire moved in a little closer, putting their hands on their weapons as well.
    For several seconds, the two young men sitting on the tree trunk stared at each other. Around them, the world seemed to stop, holding its breath while waiting to see how their confrontation would unfold. Even the forest seemed to quiet down, leaving the stage for the two protagonists. Only the crackling fire disturbed the silence.
    Finally, Malloy’s lower lips began to tremble, the young warrior unable to hold back any longer. Without warning, he suddenly burst out laughing, like he had just heard the world’s funniest joke. Every man around quickly imitated him, relieved to see this was only a prank. They went back to telling stories and shoving each other.
    “Oh