Oathbreaker, Book 1: The Knight's Tale - Colin McComb

Winter, CY 585
The Shepherd’s Tale
The old man came out of the east as winter tightened its grip on the land. He crossed into my
home pasture from the thin trees on the hill line on the heels of the dawn, and my two dogs, Inger
and Crosh, started to barking soon as they saw him. There I was with my hand on the door to the
pen and the sheep ready to move to the day’s pasturage, and now comes a stranger to contend
with. Well, I figured, the day’s work can’t be kept because of something different, unless it’s a
surprise that keeps the work from being done. I didn’t see any wolves or fire, nor any poachers
chasing the man, so I whistled up the dogs and opened the gate, and the boys got the sheep
moving off into the western pasture I leased from the mayor of Dunlop, and I followed along
slow so as to cross the old man’s path. While I walked, I watched him and I kept a firm hand on
my staff. I kept some surprises there.
Old he looked, my age. I’d’ve pegged him at sixty-five, seventy years. Shortish hair,
looked like he’d cut it himself with a knife by a stream for the past few months. He’d let his beard
grow out, which was a good thing, considering the cold the winter’d brought this year. Wasn’t
tall, neither, but he had that air of command you find in a few town councilmen or maybe old
soldiers that made him seem taller. He was tired, too, like he’d been walking all night, and he
looked like he’d walk another night if he needed to, but he didn’t lean on his walking stick. When
our paths grew near to crossing, I called to him.
“Morning, stranger.”
“And to you, shepherd. My name is Toren. May I walk with you?”
“Can’t stop you, I figure. Name’s Ysabel.”
“It's either a girl's name or you're from Amchester,” he said.
“Right you are,” I replied. “I left there shortly after the Siullan Uprising. Seemed like a
better idea than being drafted.”
“I fought in that war. Those were some hard times.” He fell into step beside me.
“How fare the sheep this winter?”
“Good. Had a few lost to wolves, a few fell sick, but mostly they thrive.”
“Do you have need for another hand to help with the flock?”
Colin McComb Oathbreaker, Book 1: The Knight's Tale
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