Chronicles of Nahtan Boxed Set #1: The First Three Herridon Chronicles Books: Mo'ani's Way, Halona's Way, Nahtan's Way Read online

  Chronicles of Nahtan

  Books 1-3

  Mo'ani's Way

  Halona's Way

  Nahtan's Way

  by: DL Kramer

  Copyright © 2013-2015 by D. L. Kramer

  Cover Art © 2015 by Roman Hodek

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published in the United States of America

  The complete list of Herridon titles available from D.L. Kramer:

  Mo'ani's Way - Book 1 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Halona's Way - Book 2 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Nahtan's Way - Book 3 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Edgewind - Book 4 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Olorun - Book 5 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Basiyr - Book 6 Chronicles of Nahtan

  Herridon - Book 7 Chronicles of Nahtan

  The Second Sentinel - Book 1 Chronicles of Mehlis - (Mature themes and content) -coming soon

  The Kamiri Born - Book 2 Chronicles of Mehlis - (Mature themes and content) - coming soon

  Nahtan: A Character Study (short)

  Other titles available from D.L. Kramer:

  Bloodlust

  Son of the Despot (short story)

  Contents

  Mo'ani's Way - Book 1

  Prologue - "Call your children"

  One - "What's a Mo'ani?"

  Two - "Nahtan will be the new king"

  Three - "Well now, what have we here?"

  Four - "Looks like Halona likes ye"

  Five - "I didn't know it was you out here"

  Six - "Have you had any sort of education?"

  Seven - "How did you get here?"

  Eight - "We can't just go tell Mo'ani that!"

  Nine - "You have to find who you are here"

  Ten - "Keep a rein on those two"

  Eleven - "I used to pray for nights like this"

  Twelve - "Thy attempt at concealment is ill-met"

  Thirteen - "I knew ye'd head this way"

  Fourteen - "A rider from Valin"

  Fifteen - "I've never seen a hold built like this one"

  Sixteen - "I fully intended to jump"

  Seventeen - "A bit on the cold side"

  Epilogue - "He's not going back"

  Halona's Way - Book 2

  Prologue - Rial jumped from Valin's tower

  One - "Who do you think that was?"

  Two - "Grab hold and taken 'im in with ye"

  Three - "Guess she has gotten that good"

  Four - "That wasn't subtle at all"

  Five - "Am I missing something here"

  Six - "She wouldn't back down to anything"

  Seven - "It's time for the strength of the army"

  Eight - "You're the one with that blasted horse"

  Nine - "I can't take a horse like that"

  Ten - "So where was Herridon Hold?"

  Eleven - "Is that a dagger inside your left sleeve?"

  Twelve - "Just don't cause trouble"

  Thirteen - "I'm going to hang around here"

  Fourteen - "I'm just a little more dangerous is all"

  Fifteen - "So much happened here"

  Sixteen - "Zakris save us all"

  Seventeen - "You could stop this"

  Epilogue - "But you are my best friend"

  Nahtan's Way - Book 3

  Prologue - But the gods were unable to hear him

  One - "He's got a point"

  Two - "He's not Paki anymore"

  Three - "You're making the first move"

  Four - "Good luck, lad"

  Five - "I don't recognize anything"

  Six - "He has come?"

  Seven - "Any elder could answer his questions"

  Eight - "Let's go start a war"

  Nine - "You remember who you were?"

  Ten - "So this is where it'll be"

  Eleven - "I need to figure out how to work with that"

  Twelve - "I thought you'd be at Herridon"

  Thirteen - "How many men do ye 'ave?"

  Fourteen - "I saw their cloaks and horses"

  Fifteen - "He's having a problem adjusting"

  Sixteen - "I wasn't there to fight with 'im"

  Seventeen - "Kile warned me"

  Epilogue - "It's been taken care of"

  Mo'ani's Way - Book 1

  Prologue - "Call your children"

  "There's my Paki!" Michak laughed and scooped up his son as the toddler ran down the walk to meet him. Paki laughed and pulled at his father's soot-darkened beard. Four armed church guards with a wagon appeared at the end of the narrow dirt road and Michak picked up his pace towards the tiny hut. Inside, he closed the door and pulled the bolt as his wife and daughters looked up.

  "What is it?" Valry asked, setting aside the corset she was mending for the miller's wife. She rose and took Paki from her husband's arms, setting him on the floor and ushering him off with some of his older sisters.

  "Church guards," Michak answered, his strong arms flexing.

  Valry's eyes widened. "You don't think--"

  "I'd kill them first," Michak vowed.

  Seconds later, an armored fist banged on the door. Michak and Valry exchanged looks.

  "You are ordered to open this door!" a voice called, muffled through the heavy pine.

  Michak looked around the room, three of his daughters were here while the other three had taken Paki into the second room to play.

  "Leisl," his eyes fell on his oldest. Almost twelve summers, she showed a maturity and resourcefulness beyond her years.

  "What papa?" she asked, setting aside her own sewing.

  "Take your sisters into the next room and bolt the door," he instructed. "Don't open it unless your mother or I come to get you." He had secured the second door with a latch of it's own to protect his family if he wasn't there.

  Leisl nodded and quickly ushered the two younger girls towards the back room. Her eyes met her father's as they passed, and he knew she understood the threat.

  Another banging on the outer door drew Michak's attention again. He waited until he heard Leisl draw the latch before answering it. Outside, the church guards stood, their swords drawn.

  "Michak the smith?" one asked.

  "Not to you," Michak returned. "I don't repair things for murderers and thieves." The guard swung to backhand him, but Michak caught the gauntleted fist. "You had best treat me with some respect in my house," he pointed out.

  Before Michak could turn, another guard drove the hilt of his sword into his stomach then to the back of his head. Michak heard Valry's frightened cry as the force of the blow knocked him to his knees and the two guards at the front forced the door open, coming into the small room. The first guard grabbed Michak by his collar and pulled him up only to hit him again, then hold him down with one foot on the back of his neck while the other two stood by. The second guard grabbed Valry as she tried to run past, turning her back against him and holding a dagger to her throat.

  "The BishopLord has discovered you are two months behind in your tithes," he said. "We are here to reconcile that. Call your children."

  "No," Michak managed.

  There was a moment of silence, then the second guard spoke. "Call them or your wife's next child may not be yours," he threatened.

  "You bastard!" Michak struggled against the boot on
his neck, but the guard was too strong and his efforts were useless.

  "Call them," the first guard repeated.

  "No," Michak still refused.

  "Don't hurt them."

  Michak cursed when he heard Leisl's voice. The boot on his neck disappeared as the guard moved to pull the girl from the inner doorway. Michak pulled himself to his knees, then his feet, using the hearth for support. His arms were grabbed almost immediately by the other two guards and he was held back.

  "If he makes any move," the first guard said to the one holding Valry. "Kill the woman."

  The second guard nodded and pressed the dagger further into Valry's throat, drawing a thin line of blood to prove he would.

  Leisl stepped around the first guard as he approached her and led the six other children out into the room.

  "Take me," she offered. "And leave the rest alone."

  "Leisl, no!" Valry cried, then gasped as the dagger moved from the front to the side of her neck.

  The first guard smiled and nodded faintly as he looked the girl over. "How noble," he said. "But our orders are two children from the smith's family, one to reconcile each month of tithes owed. To be decided by lot."

  "You're not taking my children!" Michak roared, struggling against the guards holding him. They had obviously known whom they would be restraining, as each guard matched his strength.

  The guard didn't turn at Michak's outburst, but continued looking the children over. Leisl was the only one not crying in fear. "Six girls and a boy," he noted, looking at Valry. "It would be a pity if you were to lose your only son." He pulled seven tags off a leather thong on his belt along with a dagger. On each one, he made a cut, the mark obviously representing each of the children, but which for whom he didn't say. Next, he dumped the fruit from a bowl on the table, dropping the tags into it. He finally turned to look at Michak, his eyes gleaming. Pulling two tags from the bowl, he looked back at the cuts on them. "Your oldest and youngest children," he interpreted, gathering the other tags and putting them back on the leather thong.

  "No!" Valry finally struggled against the guard's hands. The guard tightened his grip and moved the dagger from her throat to her stomach.

  Michak growled and lunged for the guard as he took Leisl's arm and pulled her forward, then grabbed Paki's hand. His attention was torn when Valry screamed and slumped to the ground, the guard behind her pulling his bloody dagger from her side.

  "Save your children or save your wife?" the first guard asked him over the noise of the crying children. He moved quickly toward the door. Michak hesitated for a moment, and it was all the time the guard needed to get out the door with the two children.

  One - "What's a Mo'ani?"

  Paki watched his master out of the corner of his eye. Actually, he was watching his master's strap. The village they were traveling through was small, but to Paki, it might as well have been the crown city itself.

  Reaching up as high as he could, he rested one hand on the mare's side. Both she and the stallion were huge, much bigger than most of the horses Paki had seen. The stallion snorted from behind Paki and nudged his shoulder.

  "Over this way," Paki's master growled, jerking hard on the mare's lead. The mare followed him, her head low and her oversized hooves dragging.

  Paki followed as their master led them into a tiny alley. The stallion stayed behind him, almost leaning over his shoulder.

  "Church guards," his master spat, glaring openly at the blue-cloaked men who passed outside the alley. He looked at Paki. "Maybe I should sell you back to them," he threatened. "Then I wouldn't have to remind you to lie about how many skins I've got."

  "You only have ten skins," Paki answered quietly. Though the size of the bundles on the stallion and mare's backs would tell anyone that was a lie. His master never told any of the church guards how full his traps were. "I don't know why you tell them you have less than you do."

  His master's response was his strap across Paki's shoulder. Paki yelped, letting go of the stallion's lead to hold his shoulder. He felt the blood on his hand from the cut and bit back his tears.

  "Hold onto that damned horse," his master barked. Jerking the mare's lead again, he led them back into the village street.

  Paki dropped back behind the mare, still holding one hand over his shoulder. His attention was drawn to the tiny cathedral as they passed it. The altar outside was darkly stained and the villagers seemed to go out of their way to avoid walking beside it. He had asked his master once if they could go to the services at one of the cathedrals and was only hit for his question.

  His master found the trader's office and quickly finished his business there, selling a few of his skins to get money to spend in the tavern. Pocketing his few coins, he took the stallion's lead from Paki and handed him the mare's.

  "You go back to the camp," he ordered. "We'll be along later."

  Paki reluctantly let go of the stallion. The big horse didn't like their master and each time he went drinking, Paki was afraid of what he would do to the horse. He took the mare's lead and turned to walk away from the tiny farmer's village.

  Paki's master returned to the camp several hours later. Paki pretended to be asleep and within minutes, he heard his master snoring. Sleep eventually found Paki, and the next morning, they set out for the larger town three day's ride ahead of them.

  Paki did his best to keep the horses well cared for, though the mare seemed to be weakening as each day passed. He didn't know exactly how old she was, but her dark nose was nearly covered with grey and white hairs. He wondered if her weakness could come from her age, but was too afraid to ask his master.

  They were half a day's ride from the next town when an angry outburst from their master sent Paki running into the trees beside the camp. He stayed close to where the horses were staked, but didn't dare go near the camp for some time. Darkness soon fell and the familiar night sounds closed around Paki, comforting him.

  The dead of night was his favorite time. Even though it was colder here in the north than back in his home village of Edgewind, it became the one time he felt safe. He supposed at one time, he felt safe with his parents, but that was a long time ago, before his parents sold him to his master.

  He didn't blame them, they had far too many children and could no longer feed them all. So the youngest and oldest were sold. His oldest sister had been bought by a young lord and his wife to help with their new baby. Paki wasn't as lucky; his master was a cold, hard man who drank too much and liked his strap. The scabbed-over cut on his shoulder would soon heal to match his other scars.

  Paki knew he couldn't run away, that would dishonor his parents. His tenth summer was just passed, it would only be five more before he could leave.

  Paki looked upwards when an owl lit on the tree branch above him. It's snowy white head tilted and it looked down on him with oversized, blinking eyes.

  "Hello, friend," Paki said quietly brushing his dark brown hair from his eyes. The owl only blinked at him again, then jumped from the branch and disappeared above the trees. "Goodbye, friend," Paki said just as quietly.

  Paki, the horses and their master spent the days trudging through streams, mud and along forest trails as their master checked his traps and set new ones. Each night, Paki's job was to dress and skin the animals caught that day. If he didn't have them done by the time his master finished his dinner and first skin of ale, he'd be given one lash for each animal left. Paki learned how to skin and dress the animals quickly. Now he bet he could finish a fox faster than most people could start one.

  Of course, he didn't really know how fast the other trappers could work. But he knew he was quicker than his master was and that was all he needed for now.

  The sounds of the night continued to flow through him and he was startled awake by a nearby howling. Looking around, he didn't know how long he had been asleep. Picking himself up from the pine needle-covered ground, he dusted the needles off his breeches and began walking back to the campsite. His master w
as asleep by now, so he wouldn't have to worry about getting hit again.

  The stallion snorted at Paki as he passed by and Paki paused to reach for his nose, only to have the big horse bite at him, his teeth barely an inch from Paki's fingers. Paki still held his hand out, knowing the stallion wouldn't hurt him, though Paki had seen him bite the master more than once. The horse's nostrils flared as he pressed his nose against Paki's outstretched palm.

  Moving slowly, Paki walked around to stand beside him. He gently touched the stallion's neck, then ran his hands down his shoulders, then his back. Sure enough, one hand came away wet and sticky.

  "That's all right, boy," Paki whispered as the stallion snorted and shifted his weight. He glanced at the sputtering campfire. His master's boots were sticking out from under one of the wolf skins, his loud snoring encompassed the camp. "I'll take care of you." Touching the stallion gently, he marked one lash for almost all of his fingers. A few of the cuts were too high on the horse's back for Paki to reach them, but he would clean as many as he could. "I'll be back," Paki whispered, coming back to the stallion's nose. The stallion nuzzled him and snorted hot breath on his shoulder.

  Paki turned away from the horses. Walking on his tiptoes, he crept around the camp to the water skins. Picking them each up, he tested for the fullest one. After finding it, he pulled rags from the nearby packs, then crept back to the horses.

  Pouring the water onto the rags, he carefully cleaned the cuts across the stallion's shoulders and back. When he was finished, he checked the mare, but found no new cuts on her, though she seemed to be breathing harder than normal and her tail twitched back and forth continuously.

  Paki picked up the bundle of wet rags and now empty skin, gave each of the horses a last pat, then crept back into the camp. He tossed the rags onto the fire, where they snapped and hissed before they were consumed. His master wouldn't be happy if he found out Paki was using his cleaning rags on one of the horses instead of to clean traps. It was much easier to lie to his master and tell him they must have been left behind at their last campsite.