Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

and he could have sworn that his forehead was slick with sweat. He nodded, unable to speak. He tried his best to smile as he took Anya’s hand and moved into the open space in front of the bard. How do you dance?

Anya reached out and took both of Calen’s hands into her own. The light from the candles flickered across her freckled cheeks. Before he knew it, they were moving. Calen followed Anya. He had danced before, but not with a woman – not like this. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. All he had to do was follow her feet. How did she know how to dance so well?

Calen blushed when he realised that he had been following Anya’s feet so closely that he hardly looked at her face. She giggled at him, letting her head rest on his chest, which only caused his heart to beat faster. It felt nice, though – comforting. He forced his mind to relax. They swayed back and forth, their feet drifting with the music.

“On summer nights, I will hold on to your memory.

When the air is warm, I will sit beneath the old Oak tree.

For your arms, I will yearn, for your voice I will hope.

We will be side by side, again my love, on summer nights.”

 

The crowd clapped and cheered as the lute played out the end of the song. Reluctantly, Calen lifted his head to find that five other couples had joined them in dancing. He felt Anya’s head lift off his chest. No, please stay there.

Her green eyes glistened as she looked up at him. “That was… lovely.”

“It was…”

All other sounds capitulated to the methodical beating of Calen’s heart as he held Anya’s gaze. It seemed as if time stood still.

“There you are!” Calen nearly leapt out of his skin as Dann clapped his hand down across his back. “Your dad said to come and get you. They’re about to announce the victors of The Hunt and… shit.” He muttered the last part and mouthed the word “sorry” to Calen as his eyes fell on Anya.

Calen let out a heavy sigh. Dann always had the worst timing. Calen looked back to Anya. “I’m sorry, I have to—”

“It’s okay,” she said. The smile on her face let Calen know that she meant it. “I’ll see you after they make the announcements. Go, go!”

Calen let his head hang back over his shoulders as he and Dann walked away from Anya. “You couldn’t have waited, just a minute?”

“Yeah… I’ll take that one. I probably could have.”

A loud clanging noise rang out through the tent as they sat back down at the table with their families. Erdhardt stood at his table, knocking a spoon off a steel tankard. The ringing resonated through the tent with surprising volume. “It is with great pride that we look out over these tables tonight. Our boys have become young men.” He paused for a second as his eyes swept through the tent. “Everyone that entered Ölm has returned to us, some with a few more scars than when they entered.” His voice dipped into a sombre tone. “But they have returned. That has not always been the case.”

He raised his tankard in the air. “I ask you all to join me in a toast. To all the young men who have returned to us, and to those that never did. To the young men who have passed through The Proving, and to the young women who have nothing to prove.”

A raucous cheer erupted all over the tent. Calen noticed a smug look on Ella’s face as she raised her cup in celebration.

Erdhardt raised his tankard slightly higher, and Calen joined the rest of the crowd in following suit. Erdhardt repeated the blessings of the gods, as he did before they entered Ölm. “May The Mother embrace you and The Father protect you. May The Warrior guide your hand and The Maiden guide your mind. May The Smith keep your blade sharp and The Sailor see you to safe shores.”

The words were echoed through the tent.

“And now it is time to announce the victors of The Hunt. Those young men who went above and beyond, those who stared fear in the eyes and did not blink. This year, The Proving has provided many a surprise and many a test. You have brought us the pelts of kats bigger than I have ever seen, and wolfpines and boars aplenty. It has truly been a year like no other. However, this year has brought us something that has not been seen before. Something that has united all the councils in unanimous vote.”

Each council member raised their tankards in the air in a note of agreement. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone sat in anticipation.

“A group of young men were driven through Ölm Forest, all the way to the foot of Wolfpine Ridge. They have proven themselves beyond their years, and I am proud to say that they hail from right here in The Glade.” Cheers and shouts erupted from the tables where villagers of The Glade were sitting. “They returned to us from the depths of Ölm Forest only a few hours ago. With them, they brought something that not one of us on this council expected to see – the head of an Urak.”

Shock and disbelief spread through the crowd like a wave.

“Settle down, settle down. The councils have spoken at length with regard to the possible Urak threat, and we have a plan of action. For now, join us one more time in raising your cups in a toast to these three young men. Calen Bryer, Dann Pimm, and Rist Havel – victors of The Hunt.”

CHAPTER 9

A Game of Chance

A couple of days had passed since the feast night, most of which were a blur. After Calen, Rist, and Dann were announced as victors of The Hunt, the tent had erupted in shouts and