01 Wing Warrior

THE WING WARRIOR
– Book One of The Legend Riders –

By Kevin Outlaw

The Wing Warrior
Copyright Kevin Outlaw 2012

Published by Kevin Outlaw at Smashwords December 2012

The right of Kevin Outlaw to be identified as the Author of the work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, dragons, or other mythological creatures, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover design by James Lloyd, based on an original drawing by Amy Outlaw.

Find out more about the author at
www.thelegendriders.com

This is a book about heroes, and as such it is dedicated to mine: my dad.

Also with thanks to my wife and mum, for their constant support, and to my daughter Isabella, whose smile makes everything worthwhile.

CHAPTER ONE

The woods on the east side of the village were out of bounds. The trees there were old and tall and grew thickly, so that only occasionally could a beam of sunlight penetrate the gloom; and the paths were overgrown and broken, leading off to dead ends and deadly drops. If you didn’t have your wits about you, it was all too easy to get so lost you would never find your way back out.

Untamed animals lived in the woods – wild pigs and hungry wolves – making it dangerous to walk alone. The old men of the village even said there were goblins hiding in the deepest places where humans rarely went, hunched in the wormholes of rotting tree stumps and waiting for lost children to walk within snatching distance.

Of course, nobody had ever really seen a goblin, but what they had seen was a large stag whose immense, twisted antlers were evidence of considerable stature and age. This stag swaggered around in a self–important kind of way, butting any lost travellers with those dangerous antlers whenever he got the chance; and for most people, that was more than enough reason to give the woods a wide berth.

Things, though, are rarely as they seem, and really this stag was not the bully people thought he was.

Four seasons ago, three vile and brutish men had gone hunting; and for a day and a night they terrorised the woods. Such was the devastation they caused, with their black–barbed arrows and ugly knives, that all the animals – except for the hedgehogs, who were a surly bunch and not the kind to get involved – called a great council. The animals asked Sage, the mighty stag, to protect them from the intruders.

What Sage did next, nobody really knows, but only one hunter ever returned from the woods, and he was part–mad, raving about a cruel stag that waged war against humans without cause, and animals that seemed to have human reason and held meetings to discuss plots against humankind.

The story quickly spread, but people chose only to believe the parts they wanted to believe, and disregarded the rest. So Sage got lumbered with a reputation as a vindictive, foul–tempered, unpleasant sort of a creature, while not one single person believed that a squirrel and a badger once had a heated debate about how to dispose of two hunters’ bodies.

For his part, Sage really had no argument with humans, and he often helped them out. Most people who accidentally ventured into the woods and became lost were casually directed to the nearest exit with some gentle antler–prodding. But there was a certain group of children who needed no such assistance, and were regular visitors. As long as they behaved, and didn’t start doing anything stupid like poking the badgers with a stick, then Sage saw no reason to chase them off. He did like to keep an eye on them though, just in case.

After all, they were only human.

The boy with brown hair, who Sage knew was called Nimbus, was standing knee-deep in the gurgling water of the Forbidden River and holding a sharpened stick like it was a spear. He was an ungainly–looking boy, part–way to becoming a man but with still plenty of growing to do, and he gave the appearance he didn’t quite fit into his body yet and hadn’t quite got the hang of how all his limbs were supposed to work. Sage could tell the boy was going to become a handsome and powerful man one day, or at least as handsome and powerful as any man could be expected to become; but by the way he hunched, it seemed doubtful the boy had any idea of his own potential for greatness. Much like most humans.

There was a second child sitting on the riverbank, a girl with brown hair that came almost to her waist. Her name was Glass, and she was Nimbus’s younger sister. She reminded Sage of a rabbit, or perhaps a field mouse. She was so small, so fascinated by the world, so eager to understand everything and hurt nothing. It was such a shame they were all traits that most people seemed to grow out of.

As Sage watched the children, he couldn’t help wondering what the future held for them. Would they become like the hunters he had been forced to hurt, and return here one day as his deadly enemies, or would they learn to live a different way? He had little time to think about it before one of the squirrels scampered down a nearby tree to warn him that the wolves were out, and he decided to go to make sure they weren’t causing too much trouble.

As for the children: They were completely unaware of their silent observer’s departure, just as they were completely unaware that they would have been eaten by wolves by now if they hadn’t been under Sage’s protection. They had far more important matters to concern themselves with.

‘You’ll never catch one,’ Glass said, splashing her feet in the water.

‘Of course I won’t,’ Nimbus snapped. ‘Not if you keep scaring them away. Quit splashing.’

‘I don’t think it will make any difference. We’ve been here all day. I’m bored.’

Nimbus waded deeper into the river, and stared intently through the foaming water until he could see the pebbles of the riverbed. If he was very still, he knew the fishes would start swimming around his feet; then he would be able to spear one. It would flip and flap and try to escape, but if he was quick, he knew he could do it.

‘Nimbus?’

‘What is it, Glass?’

‘I’m bored.’

‘Wait a minute.’

‘Why?’

‘Just wait a minute.’

There was a big, silver fish splashing towards him.

‘But...’

‘In a minute, Glass.’

The fish swam nearer. Nimbus remained motionless, poised to strike.

Just a bit closer. That was all.

Just a bit closer, and he would have his fish supper.

He was so tense he could feel his muscles shaking, his hands trembling, his heart pounding in his chest.

Just a bit closer.

The fish circled around, just out of reach, its single shining fin breaking the surface of the water for a second. Nimbus held his breath.

Just a little bit closer.

‘What are you doing, Nim?’ someone above him said.

Nimbus almost jumped out of his skin in fright. Something wet and slippery flapped over his bare feet. He squealed, lost his balance, and tumbled backwards with a splash.

Glass started giggling behind her hand.

Chest–deep in the river, Nimbus just caught sight of his fish supper’s tail disappearing under the water with a plop. Only an expanding circle of ripples proved there had ever been a fish at all.

‘You let it get away,’ the voice from above said.

Nimbus scowled at the girl who was sitting among the tree branches. ‘That was your fault, Sky,’ he shouted.

She smiled mischievously. ‘Don’t be so grumpy.’

Nimbus stood, shaking water from his tangle of curly hair. ‘That was my supper,’ he humphed. Glass was still laughing, and he glared at her angrily. ‘It was going to be your supper too, Stupid. Now we’ll have to eat that horrible stew Mum was making.’

‘Get over it,’ Sky said, dropping into the water. Her yellow hair billowed around her shoulders. Standing in the river, she could almost have been mistaken for a mermaid. ‘You should have asked Tidal to help.’

‘Shut up,’ Nimbus said, stomping over to the bank where his boots were. ‘Tidal always catches fish. I wanted to catch one for myself. Like my dad does.’

‘Nim, wait up.’ Sky splashed after him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Leave me alone, Stink Witch.’

‘Oh, you don’t even know what a stink witch looks like.’

‘No. But I bet it looks a lot like you.’

Nimbus climbed out of the river and sat in a dark recess under a tree. Just the kind of recess a hungry goblin might have lived in, if the stories the old men told were true.

‘Nim?’ Sky said.

Glass plucked a smooth, orange stone out of the water. ‘He’s going to sulk now,’ she said. ‘He won’t talk to you. He does this to me all the time. You’re lucky you don’t have to live with him.’ She turned the stone over in her little hands, examining it thoughtfully. ‘Do you think Daddy would let me have a pony? I’d like a pony.’

‘Nim?’ Sky said, again.

‘Shut up,’ Nimbus growled.

‘Fine.’ Sky crossed her arms, turning her back on him to stare at the surrounding trees. ‘You are such a girl sometimes, Nim.’

‘Am not.’

‘Yes you are. You’re a bigger girl than your sister is.’

‘Am not.’

‘And you’ve got a girl’s name too. Nimbus. That’s so silly. A silly girl’s name.’

Nimbus sat bolt upright. ‘Well... Well... Sky is a girl’s name too.’

‘I am a girl, Nim.’

Nimbus put his boots on. ‘Yeah, well. It’s stupid. I’m going home.’

‘Home?’ Glass dropped the orange stone. The rushing river swallowed it with a glug, sucking it back to the bottom and jolting it along with the current. She stood, brushing the dirt off her knees. ‘We’re going home?’

‘Come on,’ Nimbus said.

Sky was still looking at the trees, studying them as if she expected them to come to life. There was no breeze. The air was heavy and still. ‘You know what? I don’t think I like it here,’ she said.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Nimbus said. ‘I’ve been coming here all my life. There aren’t really goblins.’

‘Says you,’ Glass muttered, under her breath.

‘I’ve never even seen a wolf.’

‘Doesn’t mean there aren’t any,’ Sky said.

‘Scaredy Cats. You’re both frightened, aren’t you?’

Sky looked at Glass; Glass looked back. Maybe they were scared, but neither of them would admit it to Nimbus.

Suddenly, there was an explosion in the middle of the river, and a huge fish shot out of the water. The fish seemed to hang in midair for a long time, caught on an invisible line, and then it arched its body, plunging back out of sight.

‘That was my dinner,’ Nimbus said.

‘It’s okay, Nim,’ Glass said. ‘You’re just not meant to be a fisherman.

‘You’re probably right. I think I’ll leave the fishing to Tidal from now on.’

‘Good,’ Sky said. ‘At least then we won’t go hungry.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Shut up yourself.’

‘Scaredy Cat.’

‘Grump.’

‘Stink Witch.’

‘Troll King.’

Nimbus grinned. ‘That’s a good one.’

‘I’ve been waiting all week to use it.’

For a moment they stood silently, watching the river, waiting to see if the fish would leap out again. It didn’t.

‘Let’s go,’ Nimbus said.

He held Sky’s hand, put one arm around Glass, and together they left the riverbank, heading into the darkness of the trees where the goblin myths seemed a little truer.

***

‘There’s one,’ Glass said excitedly, pointing out a white ribbon tied to the branch of a nearby tree.

‘I see it,’ Nimbus said, sounding more than a little bit smug. He had been marking paths through the woods with coloured ribbons for years, and it had definitely been one of his better ideas. White ribbons plotted the route between the village and his favourite fishing spot, green ribbons went to a small clearing in the heart of the woods, and red ribbons led to the cave. Nobody ever went to the cave, though; not even Nimbus.

‘Nearly there,’ Glass said, skipping ahead.

‘Don’t go too far,’ Nimbus said. ‘It’s starting to get dark.’

‘You know she doesn’t like the woods, don’t you?’ Sky said.

Nimbus shrugged. ‘I know, but it’s not my fault. I don’t ask her to come with me.’