: Christian Walker
: Artak and The Forgotten Mark
: First Edition Design Publishing
: 9781506905006
: 1
: CHF 4.40
:
: Belletristik
: English
: 100
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
A story that will take you on a quest with Artak who, having travelled the world in pursuit of mastering his fighting skills, returns a fearless warrior. Little does he know that fate will soon give him the chance he’s long waited for; to meet face to face with the beast that left him an orphan.When he was merely 14, he watched his parents die along with his entire village. In fear, the boy barely escapes the fiery scene only at his father’s command. This engraved in his heart such a shock that he vowed to avenge them one day. Collapsing at the gates of Wimbra a few days later, he is taken in by Martuk, the village leader. Accepting him in as his own child, he teaches the young boy everything he knows in the art of sword combat, but given his natural abilities and determination, in a short time he surpasses the skills of his teacher. When he was given his first knife, he admired and respected it, spending hours contemplating it; feeling powerful with it. It was already during these young years, being the restless child that he was, and not adhering to rules, much less curfews, that he began to disappear for days without anybody knowing where he’d been.

Chapter Four


 

 

The hall was already full and all the villagers worked together and swiftly to get things ready for their celebration. In spite of the time, they were all happy tohave a celebration, especially one such as this one. At a moment’s notice, they had all forgotten about sleeping and were happy to cooperate in the preparation to celebrate Artak’s return. Indeed, such festivity could not wait for next morning.

 “Are you hungry Artak?” Kimir asked out loud.

“Well, I haven’t had a bite to eat all day, so… I’m famished.” Artak answered as they headed to the village’s main hall.

They brought out a deer they had hunted earlier and gave Artak a big chunk with some potatoes which he started eating without hesitance. “Can’t a man get something decent to drink around here? “ He asked with food in his mouth. “I’ve got your drink right here” said Kimir as he approached the table with a couple of large beer mugs. Tsehva sat by his side in silence with respect and admiration as the lot of them celebrated his unexpected return. It was nice having him around once again.

“Don’t drink too much of that, we still need a good watchman to watch the gate tonight.” Martuk addressed Kimir.

“What for? “Don’t worry Martuk, it would take several of these to knock me down, besides, I’ve been keeping watch all night. I think I deserve a drink, or two. It’s celebrating time.” Kimir replied with a scorn.

“I’m joking, drink as much as you want; tonight we all enjoy ourselves.” The old man added.

 

Kimir was the loudmouth of the village, and not in a bad sense, he was just loud every time he opened his mouth, and he always spoke his mind. Generally sarcastic, insistent and scornful but he was nonetheless a good man and happened to be Artak’s best friend since they were children; perhaps because of their opposing nature.

Measuring 5 feet 11 inches, 32 years old, he was now almost completely bald, disheveled, and usually let his beard grow wild, although never too long. Liking wine and beer too much and enjoying eating practically at any time during the day, did not help much in maintaining neither a healthy body, nor a healthy lifestyle. Unlike Artak, he limited his training to a few pushups now and then, causing thus to develop a large mid-section that he called his strength. He was good with the sword but archery was his first choice, on which he held the record among them, with the most consecutive shots hitting the target; 32 shots to be exact, which nobody even came close to.

Now after several mugs of beer and a full belly, Kimir insisted even more that Artak tell him about his exploits. Artak took a big gulp of his beer.

“My good friend, I’m sure you’d like to hear how I fought dragons, and strange creatures the likes of which none of you have ever seen, how I joined in battle against the Mongols in China, and how I underwent difficult tasks to regain a valuable object for the king of Persia, but I’m tired, so I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Replied Artak as he chewed on a piece of meat. But Kimir, still not satisfied with this answer insisted even more excessively.

“Do you all want to hear the story?” Kimir asked in a loud voice to a