Okay, I've decided to be brave and post something.I hope you like it, I haven't edited it enough but I'm posting it anyways while I have the nerve. FYI, this has spoilers for book eight. Just a warning.
- A.R.DragonWriter
Chapter One: A Mistake and A Promise
It was a mistake; a horrible mistake. Young Halt O'Carrick stared at the baby boy in his arms. He couldn't do this.
Halt deposited the boy on the steps of the small cabin just outside the village, a note tucked in the basket. It read: "He's an orphan. His mother died in childbirth, his father is gone. Please care for him." That was the truth. The contorted, brutal, honest truth. His father would be long gone when the read this.
Halt swung up on Declan and urged him away. This is the right thing to do. It is. Halt tried to convince himself. The couple living there seemed nice. Halt had observed them for several days. They were newly married and had no kids. The last thing the boy needed was a runaway prince that had hell-bent enemies and was trying to become a ranger. The boy's father was a coward. But he didn't have any choice, Halt told himself. Maybe now the boy had a chance to be raised well. Alina would've liked the boy's new parents. That was enough.
Several days later. . . Halt pulled Declan to stop in front of a tavern in the village he'd just found. Shouts came from the glowing building. A shaggy pony stood out front and inside Halt just made out a red haired man with somewhat of a long nose wearing a camouflage cloak. A longbow was propped up a the bar besides him and a mean looking fellow was starting to get the best of him. With a sigh Halt slid off Declan and tied him before heading to the door, always cleaning up others' troubles.
Halt cradled the dying man's head in his arms. It was him. The boy's new father, Daniel. Of course Halt would meet him on the field of battle.
"My wife. . . My boy. . . You've got to-" he coughed "help them. Promise." He gripped Halt's hand, his eyes pleaded with Halt.
Halt sighed "I promise."
Daniel's breath escaped and his head lolled to the side. The wargal's blows had been too much, and the boy was an orphan again.
Weeks later. . . Halt had just left the diplomat, Lady Pauline DuLacy's quarters. The moonlight shone dimly on the boy, now called Will, tucked in his arms. Pauline still niggled in the back of his mind. But Will weighed heavily in the forefront.
Halt pulled his new horse Abelard to a stop. He slid off Abelard and set Will on the steps. He tucked the note Pauline had written in.
It read: "His mother died in childbirth, his father was a hero. Please care for him."
No one knew the truth. Not even Pauline. His mother had died in childbirth. His father was no hero. He was a coward. Halt swung on Abelard and urged him away. A coward with no choice, Halt told himself again.