The Cavalier - By Jason McWhirter Page 0,5

understood, but it didn’t make it any easier.

When Jonas was born, his father, Liam, a reputable hunter, trapper, and warrior, refused to accept the child into his home. His mother had saved his life that day which forever cast a shadow over his family name. She would not allow Liam to abandon him, protecting Jonas and forcing her husband to leave.

His father left the small mountain town of Manson, never to return. It was on that day that he and his mother became outcasts, shunned by most, tolerated by few. It was only the baker, Gorum, who treated them with any kindness. He often traded them old bread for some of his mother’s wild onions or various other plants that she grew by their mountain cabin. Gorum became the only positive male figure in Jonas’s life.

The sound of horse hooves crunching on the frozen ground brought Jonas from his thoughts. He looked toward the noise just as his crutch slid on the icy path, pitching him hard to the right, sending the stale loaf of bread into the air and cracking his head hard on the frozen ground.

Dazed, he slowly moved his twisted hands around for the crutch, hoping that the bread did not land in any slush or mud that covered the road.

“You okay, son?”

A deep concerned voice came from the road but Jonas couldn’t turn his head in that direction until he found the crutch and lifted his tiny frame from the cold ground.

He felt strong hands lift him easily and hold his body upright. Jonas steadied his shaking body before studying the man closely.

He was tall, lean, with the look of a hawk, eyes that blazed with energy and a hooked nose that made him look regal and fierce at the same time. He had long dark flowing hair and his face was covered with the rough growth of a traveler who hadn’t shaved in several days. But his hardness disappeared when he smiled warmly at Jonas.

He wore a silver shining breast plate and a wool traveling cloak hung down his back, draping his strong legs. Powerful shoulders were encased in polished steel and his arms and legs were also covered in plates of glittering metal. The man’s feet were covered in thick leather riding boots capped with bright metal and everything seemed to sparkle with diamond brilliance. Although he was unshaven, the man was clean and his clothes and armor appeared brand new and of the highest quality, as if he had just purchased everything from a fine merchant’s store. There was no sign of mud or dirt typical of a mountain traveler.

The steel breastplate he wore caught Jonas’s eye for it was embossed with a silver symbol that looked like a four pointed star on top of a smaller circle. Under the amazing armor Jonas could make out the silvery metal edges of a chainmail shirt.

He looked back at the symbol in the middle of the man’s chest for it seemed to draw his attention. It was simple but beautiful, the lines elegant and strong, each point of the star emerging from the circle. Jonas’s wide eyes moved down to the man’s belt where he wore a magnificent sword and a hunter’s knife. The sword handle looked like it was made of a light wood or bone with silver wire adorning the handle. The pommel of the hunting knife was the same, an obvious mate to the sword.

Jonas looked into the piercing but warm eyes of the stranger, trying to smile back, but knowing that his action looked like a sneer, his muscles in his jaw not able to form to his wishes.

“Thank you, sir…..I slipped,” Jonas said awkwardly, his deformed mouth making it hard to pronounce the words. Cold weather had an adverse effect on Jonas’s ability to relax his muscles, making it more difficult than normal to talk and walk.

Jonas remembered his bread and looked around for it.

“Looking for this?” the man said as he held up the loaf of bread in his hand. “I caught it as you slipped”.

Jonas noticed that the man’s hands had two identical marks on the top of them, a circle with a four pointed star in the middle, the same mark that was on his polished cuirass.

The man noticed him staring. “Do you know what these are?” the man asked gently.

“No sir, I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Really,” the man said, “do they not teach you about the gods here?”

“I’m sorry sir, I only know of our

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