Warden by Kevin Hardman Read Free Book Online Page B

both.
    “But don’t worry,” she’d said just before they parted. “I’ll still be here when your guests leave, Errol Magnus.” And then she had given him a long, lingering kiss before sending him on his way.
    Thinking that perhaps she was joking, Errol had gone to the Beverly farm the next day at the end of his rounds. Needless to say, he had been somewhat stunned when her father informed him that Gale wasn’t taking any visitors for the next few days. (Apparently she had been serious about not being a distraction.)
    Since then, he’d tried to put Gale out of his thoughts and concentrate on showing his visitors that he had the requisite skill set to be Warden. However, now that Bander had brought up the subject, he realized how much he missed her.
    With that thought, he suddenly came back to himself, and realized that Bander was watching him quietly, waiting for Errol to tell him about Gale.
    “Well,” Errol began, reflecting on Gale’s recent refusal to see him, “if I had to sum her up in one word, it would be ‘difficult’.”
    “Ha! That’s all women.” Bander chuckled. “But you can rest assured they say the same thing about us!”

 
    Chapter 6
     
    Errol awoke with a start, his hand automatically going to his Wendigo dagger, closing on the hilt of the blade. Something was wrong. Distinctly, definitively, deathly wrong.
    He was still in his sleeping bag, safely within the protective confines of the wards he’d drawn around the camp. Nevertheless, something was making his hair stand on end. Thinking back, he remembered that, after chatting with Bander about Gale for a short time (and women in general), the two had called it a night. Glancing at the stars, he noted that he had only been asleep for an hour or two. That meant it was still the middle of the night.
    Moving as little as possible (he didn’t know who or what might be watching), Errol turned his head towards where Bander had fallen asleep. Like Errol, the older Warden was already awake, eyes darting about as he, too, was trying to discern what was wrong. After a few moments, Bander gave an almost imperceptible nod and both he and Errol scrambled out of their bags and settled into fighting stances, back-to-back.
    Wardens always sleep with their weapons close by, so it was no surprise that Bander arose armed with his warding wand and a short sword. Errol, having slept with his weapons on him, was similarly armed with his wand and Wendigo dagger.
    Errol scanned the trees he faced, looking for any source of danger. That’s when he suddenly noticed how quiet it was. There wasn’t a sound to be heard in their vicinity. No insects, no birds, no nocturnal animals. That meant whatever was out there was close – probably too close.
    Without warning, the Wendigo dagger began to glow with an eerie, eldritch light. While not particularly intense, the luminescence spread out to envelope the two men and much of their campsite.
    “What are you doing?!” Bander hissed over his shoulder as the light from Errol’s weapon washed over him.
    “It’s not me!” he responded. “It’s the dagger.” Errol looked at the weapon with something akin to fury.
    Forged by a sorcerer from the bones of its monstrous namesake, the magical blade was pitch-black in color and inlaid with streaks of silver and mysterious symbols. Although its unique attributes (such as the ability to cut through almost anything) had quickly made it Errol’s favorite weapon, on several occasions – like now – the dagger seemed to possess a will of its own.
    Then, as suddenly as it began, the light from the dagger seemed to wink out. Errol was on the verge of breathing a sigh of relief when the forest unexpectedly came alive. Two trees directly in front of him started moving swiftly towards their camp.
    Errol went tense; he involuntarily took a step backwards, inadvertently bumping Bander. The older man peeked over his shoulder, then turned so that he and Errol were now standing next