Fall of the Western Kings (Tirumfall Trilogy Book 1) by J Drew Brumbaugh

security, he tells me.  For now, let's eat, drink and enjoy the fire.  Time enough to be serious tomorrow.”
    They spent the rest of the evening at the table, talking about life in Netherdorf, about Gant's mother, Chamz’ family and what was happening in the world.  Some things were unsettling.
    #
    In the morning, they were up early and off to the Eagle Freight Company.  As Jarlz suspected, Mr. Brawnson was more than happy to have them train in the main freight yard, a visual deterrent to thugs.
    With a preliminary salute and Chamz as referee, they drew their swords and circled for a moment.  Quickly, a crowd gathered, first freight company workmen and then townspeople and soon everyone who could crowd inside the fence.
    Jarlz lunged in with a simple thrust.  Gant turned it aside, circled and slashed down across the neck.  Jarlz countered and redirected his sword in a lightning quick thrust.  Jarlz stopped his sword point just in time to keep from piercing Gant's chest.
    “One for me,” said Jarlz, and pulled back.
    A cheer went up from the crowd.  The two combatants started again.  Gant watched for an opening, saw one and rushed in.  Jarlz turned it aside and circled into a thrust to the chest. Gant blocked it.  Jarlz anticipated the move and countered with another attack.  Gant sidestepped, went for a low slash and missed. Jarlz had him again.  More cheers.
    “Two to zero,” said Jarlz.
    It went on for nearly an hour.  Gant kept seeing openings, openings he was sure he'd score on only to find he'd misjudged, or was countered at the last second.  At thirty to zero, Jarlz called a halt to groans from the onlookers.
    “You've improved a lot since our last workout,” said Jarlz as they walked into the freight company office. 
    “I was terrible,” grumbled Gant.  “I’m worse.”
    Inside the freight company offices, Mr. Brawnson greeted them.
    “Marvelous entertainment,” he said, “but we aren’t getting many wagons loaded.”
    “I'm sure,” said Jarlz, clapping the freight company owner on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry, we'll leave you alone from here on.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I'm afraid Gant will be leaving your employ.  He has more serious things to do and time is running out.”
    Gant noted the determination in his uncles’ eyes.  “What do you mean?”
    “Training.  That's what I mean.  Chamz is a good friend and helped keep you from getting rusty.  You need more intense training with a more advanced opponent.”
    “Who is that?”
    “Me, of course.”
    “What will I do for money?  For a room?”
    “As long as I'm here you won't have to worry about money.”
    “And what about Chamz?  Does he have to work while I play?  He wants to learn swordsmanship as much as I do.”
    Jarlz took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Okay, I'll take Chamz as a student too but he will slow down your progress.”
    “No, he won't.  And so what if he does.”
    “You won't be ready in time.”
    “In time for what?”
    “For fate to catch up to you.  Now come on, let's get back to the Hammond House.  We'll have lunch and then go looking for a suitable practice field.”
    Jarlz pulled open the door to leave the freight office.  “Thanks for keeping my nephew employed,” he said to Mr. Brawnson.
    Then he was out the door with Gant and Chamz running to catch up.
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
     
    C hamz was happy to be relieved of his chores at Hammond House. The proprietor was not so happy.  Chamz was reliable and hard working and the owner counted on him for a number of things.  Jarlz's offer of gold coins eased his pain and after a satisfying lunch, the three of them went searching for a training site.  Gant wondered why they needed a new place, but Jarlz insisted they go away from town where there would be fewer distractions.  By mid-afternoon they located a quiet hilltop meadow east of town overlooking the road to Maltic City.  It was close