|Sample of Abraham's Journey. This sample is an HTML file. If you purchase the complete book in the file supported by your reader, it will be formatted for your reader. I've included the table of contents in this sample to give you an outline of what the book is about.|
Table of Contents
Snow lay deep in the castle's walkways, turrets, and courtyards, and on all the land around. Cold wind blew across the frozen river, twisted around the castle, and searched in through gaps and cracks in stone walls.
Cold wind penetrated the room high in the castle's south face, and Abraham, tall and thin, with thinning white hair and weathered skin, pulled his chair closer to the fire and tucked his heavy furs tightly around himself. He sat close to the fire and gave no thought to the future.
But then, early spring breezes blew warmer across the snow. Great, hollow, booming sounds echoed across the valley that held the castle through the long winter as ice cracked, shifted, piled, and jammed in the river and began to melt into the rising current.
Sun warmed the castle's south wall and cast bright squares of warmth through the windows to the dark stone floor. Abraham stood at the balcony window and looked down through stark grey treetops at the river of melting ice, running full in its channel.
Clouds rolled down off the mountains. Rain blew in spring wind and melted snow into the river. Water rushed and rumbled toward the sea, ran over the river banks, and echoed its roaring sounds into the corners of his stone room. Damp air drove to his bones even more than the intense cold of winter had. He built his fire up hot.
Rain stopped. Sun warmed the ground. Breezes spread moisture thin in sunlight.
Plants burst from the soil. Abraham walked away from the fireplace and looked out at spring, green on the earth. He smelled the fertile earth, the young green plants, and the first flowers. The dull, persistent ache of cold in his bones eased and slowly disappeared.
Restlessness replaced the ache of cold winter and took deep root. He paced about the room and sighed deeply. He stopped in front of his suit of armor.
It had not mattered when he hung his armor on the wall that it was rusted and dented, because he had promised himself he would leave it hanging on the wall. He had promised himself he would live the rest of his life in quiet peace and comfort in a warm and well-sheltered home.
He rubbed the metal, looked at the rust that came away on his fingers, and grumbled, "It was snowing then. It's easy to make a promise like that when there's snow on the ground and snow in the air and more snow being made in heaven, and the rivers are frozen. Those are easy times to promise to sit in front of a fire and dream of adventures that have been adventured and wait for time to pass."
He lifted his sword from its hook, drew it from its scabbard, and held it high in front of him. His armor was rusty and dented, but his sword, more than half as long as Abraham was tall, and broad across the blade, shone clean and sharp, caught the firelight and reflected it dancing in sharp crystal shafts.
Clanger, he had named his sword when he was young and among the first into battle, for it had struck clanging on many suits of armor, sent its sound ringing across the battlefield in high and even tones. It had split armor and brought him victorious from many battles.
He swung his sword in both hands. It whirred through the air like a hawk turning in a steep dive. He studied the blade, then slipped it back into its scabbard and rested it on its point on the floor. He stared at the dark, high window and said, "Honor's honor, and a promise is a promise, and that's all there is to say about that."
He hung the sword back alongside his armor on the wall. He crossed the stone floor and stood in front of the fire. He said, "But we shall see what we shall see," and he didn't settle so deeply into his chair. He didn't gaze into the fire as much as he thought and built ideas. When restlessness stirred, he let it rise until he tapped his foot on the hearth and drummed a hoofbeat sound with his fingers on the arm of the chair. ....... (To read the rest of this book, please return to the home page and buy the book, Abraham's Journey.)
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