Birth of a Hero
Book 1
Justin Cartwright
For the children and adults who love stories
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1: The Town of Ganwin
Chapter 2: Sarah
Chapter 3: Death in the Night
Chapter 4: The Crowning Ceremony
Chapter 5: The Wandering Man
Chapter 6: Horwin, the Blacksmith
Chapter 7: The Lord and Lady of Shamsake
Chapter 8: Captive
Chapter 9: The Forgotten One
Chapter 10: The Forest Mother
Chapter 11: Dharma
Chapter 12: The King on the Other Side
Chapter 13: Betrayal
Chapter 14: The Return of Hector LaBelle
Chapter 15: The Lake of Promises
Chapter 16: The Lady of the Lake
Chapter 17: The Shadow of War
Chapter 18: In the Walls of the Town in the South
Chapter 19: Return Home
Chapter 20: The Fight for Liberation
Birth of a Hero
Book 1
By Justin Cartwright
Copyright © 2016 by Justin Cartwright
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Alex Villarreal
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.
All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1: The Town of Ganwin
Lying in the south of the land of Eclestia was the peaceful town of Ganwin. Its walls, made of tall brick, roughly eight feet high, housed hundreds of inhabitants. There were four gates on the wall, one on the north, east, west, and south ends. The people lived an isolated life. They were not in much contact with the rest of their land. Things might have been different in days of old, but the town as it was, was one of care for only what happened in it. Little was known of the outlying areas, although to some those matters were thought important.
Ganwin lied near a stream, its waters flowing gently through the grassy plains, greener than any eyes ever did see; the leaves were lush and full and exuded the splendor of life.
Stretching outward from the center of the town loomed a massive castle. Sitting on the throne was the dignified King Galfer, son to King Garwen, son to King Gallen, and so forth, in a line of kings that had long ruled over Ganwin. For seven years, Galfer had ruled, following his father’s passing in old age.
King Galfer was a light-haired man with thoughtful eyes, kindness seen in them by his people. Benevolence, wisdom and consideration were carried upon his fair voice. Physically, he stood at the throne, but he did not try to place himself above all others. He believed that he must put himself in the place of the people and exact his power as best he could. Peace, justice and honor were at the top of his concerns.
At the king’s side was the royal priest, Salkar Stadeus. The priest was a man worn with the years that had come down upon him. For as long as the townsfolk could remember, Salkar was there, by Galfer’s side, and his father before him. He was seen as a very wise man, fit to serve by the king. Something as of late, though, had been troubling the people of Ganwin. A shadow seemed to be growing under his heavy brow. Perhaps, they thought, it was just what came with the years of responsibility laid upon an elderly priest. They sought not to trouble themselves about it without need.
Eclestia was but one land on the earth. Lying to its north was a land unknown to the people in Ganwin. Far across the ocean, to the west, lied what was known to some as the Dark Realm, a place people seldom spoke about. Darkness was said to cover every stretch of the land, the Sun never showing its rays. Long ago people inhabited the Dark Realm, but it had become barren of life, or so it was told. No one would dare journey there, and they had no need.
***
The morning light started to spill through the window in Ing Roan's bedroom, as his eyes slowly opened. He got out of his bed and got dressed for the day ahead. After he said farewell to his mother, he headed out to meet his friend, Shamil Tabberly at the pond nearby, where they liked to fish oftentimes.
“What took you so long?” demanded Shamil once Ing arrived.
“I guess I overslept,” said Ing, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. The sound of the rushing water made him feel even drowsier.
Shamil already had his rod in the water and had just got hold of a fish, from the look of the tension on the string. He was an excellent fisher, the talent coming to him naturally. “I got it,” he said excitedly, pulling the fish from where it dangled helplessly on the hook. It was of a dazzling rainbow color—a variety rarely seen—the bright scales sparkling in the morning Sun. The sight captured the eyes of the two friends, its beauty unparalleled by the other fish. Afterwards, Shamil tossed it back into the water where it would once again swim free. He never liked to keep his prey; as Ing knew well, it was his belief that all life should be treated as well as any man.
Ing prepared his rod and cast it into the pond, but he was not as lucky as his friend. Every time he felt tension on the string he would try to reel in the fish, but it would somehow escape him without fail. Each subsequent time he would tell himself
