Ever been down on your luck? Need hope but can’t seem to see how it’s even possible? Well, then you understand Durrow. He’s a side character in Bonded Crowns, Appointed, and Ascended.

Here’s the scene where he meets Shawnahur–a young upstart claiming to be a captain from the king.

A Meeting in an Inn

The room fell silent as Shawnahur entered. His boots sounded out like a drumbeat on the wooden boards. The men at the bar turned to face him while those around the tables kept their gaze down, but he could feel their attention on him just as intently. The sense of predators watching, so familiar from being among the pucklings, prickled along the back of his neck.

“Good step,” he greeted the room in general.

The man behind the bar nodded. “Mayhap. What can I get you?”

“Need a meal and mayhap a room. Anything like that around Falun?”

“Best in town right here!” someone shouted, obviously deep in his cups.

“Only one in town,” a man murmured, and others laughed.

“Shut up, Durrow,” growled the first.

“Make me.” Durrow stood, arms spread wide revealing a burly chest.

“Both of you, stuff it!” The owner glared, and the men subsided, grumbling. “No fighting here.” Satisfied they’d hold their peace, he turned back to Shawnahur. “We have lamb pottage that’s been cooking up a while, and a handful of rye loaves for an extra pence each. Will that suffice?”

“Aye, two meals, with the bread. And the room?”

“Not much, but better than being out in the open if the Hameen come through.”

“That happen often?” Shawnahur settled onto the free stool across from the man.

“Depends on what you mean by often.” He pulled two plates from under the counter and set them out. “Last time was about two steps ago. Sometimes ‘tis less, sometimes more. Came twice in as many steps once last cycle.”

Keenah, they say the Hameen attack frequently; let me know if you see any out there.

Aye, heart of my hearts, but who will fight besides you? Even together, I don’t like our odds against an army.

Hopefully, I find what’s left of Falun’s garrison and take them along. But honestly, I don’t know.

“You’re obviously new here.” The one called Durrow pulled out a stool and plopped down next to Shawnahur. “So lemme give you some friendly advice. The border towns survive but barely. Hameen raids are common; hence why you won’t find many women or children here. ‘Tis men who’re willin’ to either put up with the scrow or fight back. You look mighty young for fightin’ and too high and mighty to be acceptin’ their treatment. Take your rest, then go back wherever you came from.”

Shawnahur recognized Durrow for the hardened fighter he was—he’d met enough in Rian’s army. They stood for Muintir but didn’t care what else they did in the process.

“Thanks for the advice, but I can’t take it.”

A shaggy brow ran up the man’s forehead and hid behind his red hair. “Really? Well, now, are you just stupid?”

Shawnahur fought the impulse to reply with an equally scathing remark. Keenah had said there were people here longing for leadership. For hope. Mayhap if Durrow had hope he’d be a different man.

“Mayhap, though, I wish ‘twas the only problem. I’m under orders.”

“From whom?” The owner set a glazed mug—battered and worn—in front of Shawnahur.

“The king himself.”

Durrow slapped his leg as he laughed, and the rest of the room erupted with him. “The king? ‘Tis a new one, that. Best try somethin’ else around here. Sure, we’re called the king’s men, but he cares naught for us.”

“There you’re wrong, Durrow.” Shawnahur took a sip of the cold brew. “’Tis good.”

“’Tis the only thing that keeps Falun from being overrun with the scrow,” the barkeeper said.

Shawnahur nodded. “Makes sense. You pour them all as much as they can hold, and they spare you. Do they even pay for it?”

Durrow looked askance and pursed his lips. “How’d you figure that?”

“Despite my synods, I’ve been around a bit.” Shawnahur trailed his finger in the damp coating of condensation on the cup and let the thought sink in. “So, do they? Pay you?”

The owner’s scowl was answer enough.

A Confrontation

“Thought so. Durrow, how many Hameen have you killed?”

The man blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How many have you killed? You sit here and complain, but what have you done to stop them?”

Durrow stood. “Listen, boiwith, no one calls me a coward.”

“I didn’t. I asked a question. But since the question angered you, I’m assuming you’re ashamed of the answer.”

Durrow cocked back and swung, but Shawnahur had already hopped off the stool and ducked under the blow.

“Durrow!” the owner bellowed. “Take it outside! ‘Tis bad enough the Hameen tear the place up.”

Shawnahur headed toward the door, but another man blocked his way, glowering. “Pampered brat comes in here, thinkin’ he’s better ‘an us, he’s gonna learn he ain’t.”

“Philip!” the innkeeper bellowed. “I said outside.”

“If we’re going to do it…” Shawnahur shrugged and raised his voice while he motioned, allowing the silver glow to spill out from under his cuff. “All of you.”

Philip stepped out of his way, and Durrow stomped to the door, drawing a knife too big for eating with, from the scabbard at his hip.

“Athlone, I’ll need my smayden after all.”

The boiwith fumbled with the reins but managed to toss the weapon toward Shawnahur. When Shawnahur turned, both the patrons and innkeeper were assembled in a half circle at the edge of the road.

“Found trouble, duene?” Athlone whispered low.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Do you need the dragon?”

“I’ll call him if I do.”

Shawnahur focused on Durrow. The man’s eyes had narrowed, a fist held at the ready, his knife extended, and he bounced on the balls of his feet.

Do you have this under control, heart of my hearts?

I think. Be ready to come, all the same.

Gladly.

Shawnahur had hoped to bluff his way through this, but he should have known. These men faced the enemy every phase. They wouldn’t put up with a weak leader.

Jeeah, help me.

Spinning the smayden in as impressive a display as he could invent, he allowed Keenah’s energy to infuse the weapon.

Durrow grinned. “I’ve seen those. ‘Tisn’t how you use ‘em. You’re just a boiwith playin’ with his da’s weapons—pretendin’ to know things.”

“Mayhap, but I’m not seeing you try to take it from me.”

“You don’t take a smayden from a livin’ body.”

“Oh, ‘tis possible,” Shawnahur chuckled. “Just difficult.” He lunged forward, sending a small surge of energy, nearly transparent in Graen’s direct light but distorting the air, from the thrust of the weapon.

Durrow stumbled back as it sailed past him. “What the…?”

“Come on, Durrow, he’s a boiwith!”

“Send him back to his ma’s apron!”

“You afraid of a child showin’ off?”

His friends’ goading sent Durrow back into the fray, not that ‘twas much of a fray compared to battle. Shawnahur blocked Durrow’s knife thrust using the leather-wrapped handle and twisted his body, driving the motion from his hips and flinging Durrow’s knife aside with the half-spin of the haft. The man stumbled and came up snarling.

Murmurs rose from the onlookers.

Hurry to finish it, if you’re going to. The Hameen are coming, and they’re mere furlongs out.

“Durrow, you’re not my enemy.” Then, more loudly, he declared, “They’re on their way.”

“What?” The others glanced about; they needed no interpretation. There was only one ‘they’ in Falun. “Where?”

“To the east and closing in quickly.” Shawnahur nodded in the direction, and called out, “Athlone, take Duhara and get out of town. I’ll come for you when ‘tis over.”

“Aye, duene.” The boiwith swung into the saddle and urged the horse back the way they’d come in, heading west.

“The rest of you: if you wish to make a stand, then let’s make a stand together. The scrow can’t take what they please anymore.”

Where to find more

This is about a fourth of the way through Bonded Crowns. Right now, you can nab your own copy along with deleted scenes and readers’ choice of the dragon lullaby (the one that Hest used to calm horses), coloring pages, puckling stickers, or a ditty that Shawnahur’s brothers taught him to occupy his time as a kid in the fields and later he uses to plea insanity when he’s captured and behind Hameen lines. Right now, we’re looking at the top two favorites in the voting, but that’s if we reach our goal by Tuesday.

How do you get your copy? Glad you asked.