The World of Frem
133 pages
English

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133 pages
English

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Description

Frem, a quiet little man, goes on an Odyssey to find help from four other villages that are also regularly attacked by Cajjh, the leader of a raping, pillaging tribe of people. To do so, Frem had to escape the trees that had created an impenetrable wall around his own village, travel through the desert and travel down an underground river where he meets a girl with a pet protector, a tiger.

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Publié par
Date de parution 15 août 2022
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781665567213
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The World of Frem
 
 
 
H. W. Dinlocker
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899
 
 
 
 
© 2022 H. W. Dinlocker. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 08/12/2022
 
ISBN: 978-1-6655-6720-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-6721-3 (e)
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

For Elizabeth May Dinlocker
who created the happiest of homes
Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Gray Robinson and associates, Don Showalter and Regina Romeo who helped update copyrights for this book. Many thanks to AuthorHouse editors Rose Sheldon and Aubrey Siever for their patience with formatting issues throughout the writing process. Likewise a special thank you to Josh Laluna and his production team. Thanks to Josh for his quick communication and efficient care spearheading the final compilation and editing of this book.
Chapter 1
The villagers of Ux relaxed after the season of harvest. They enjoyed many blessings, and, for those, they were thankful.
It had been a good year. There was grain enough for winter with some left for seed, there were a few extra animals for meat, the cottages were dry and in good repair. Winters were neither hard nor long, and most villagers were looking forward to an early planting and an even better year next year.
But not all. Fearful eyes swept the edge of the nearby forest. A village not strong enough to defend what it owned was almost certain to lose it. Some forgot this lesson from the past, but others did not.
Secret bins, known only to a few and with no man knowing more than one or two, were filled quietly and sealed. A few animals, not many, drifted away and disappeared. Old cellars, almost forgotten, were readied for those who were quick enough—or lucky enough—to hide.
It had been five years, but the raiders would remember.
The villagers did what was needed to survive.
Far away, Cajjh prepared to give the village reason to thank those with the foresight to expect his visit. He stared into the fire as he honed a keener edge on his great sword, and he dreamed of battles won and battles not yet fought, of prizes taken and lost, of women long turned to dust.
It had been a good year, and Cajjh was proud of his success. Men feared to whisper his name for the best of reasons. He had left a great path of death and destruction behind, and no one cared to call Cajjh’s attention to the fact that anyone had escaped his sword.
But now, problems. The countryside was aroused, and four kings had banded together to hunt him down. Cajjh’s force was no match for the combined armies closing behind him, and there would be no mercy if they met.
It was, Cajjh decided, time to hide the weapons, horses, and loot in their secret place, time to let the armies behind search for a wisp of fog, time to drift back to the farms and become lawful men with wives and families who did not know of the summer’s fun. Cajjh sighed a great sigh. It had been such a wonderful summer!
Not yet! The summer’s profits were not in the form a farmer would own, and wives would question farmer husbands if hunger joined the family. One last raid was needed, so a supply of grain and animals would still the questions before they were asked.
Cajjh’s thoughts turned to a village far away, a village large enough to supply his men for the winter, a village with little or no defense, a village in the opposite direction from that his pursuers would expect him to take. He mounted his horse and walked it away from the fire.
No orders were needed. Within moments, his entire force rode behind him. The camp was as if it had never been, and no trail marked where they passed.
And Cajjh dreamed of a woman he had loved when last he visited the village, a woman who had lived almost a day under his gentle caresses. Maybe this visit he would find one who would last a few hours longer.
Chapter 2
As days passed, even the most pessimistic of the villagers dared hope they had been spared for another year. A fine dance was planned. The oldest villager, Garragh, tuned his fiddle and dreamed of other times.
Young men and young women found many things to talk about, not all of them the weather. Frem, one of the youngest of the young men, spoke of the future with Allid, his promised bride. All was well in the village.
Frem was far from the village when the storm broke. He heard the war screams of Cajjh’s pack in the distance and knew he was hearing the death of many things. He raced to the village.
And met a club in the hand of one of Cajjh’s men before he reached the first cottage. Knocked senseless, he did not hear the screams, did not see the flames, did not know Allid had satisfied Cajjh’s fondest wish—she had lived longer than the first woman he had found in the village years before. That was all Cajjh asked.
That and everything the village had to offer that would have kept it alive through the winter.
Cajjh and his men, sated at last, drove their heavily burdened animals from the village and returned to the peaceful farms they called their own. Their families, delighted with their good fortune, took their plunder and lived in comfort through the winter months that followed.
Not so Ux.
Garragh found Frem more dead than alive, a great gash in his head, his breath heavy gasps of pain. Frem drifted through dreams for three days, then slowly began to recognize his surroundings. His first thought was of Allid.
“Where is she?” he pleaded. “I need to see her!”
Garragh shook his head. “She is no more,” he said. “The plans you had with her are finished. We have buried her with her family.”
“I’ll find them,” Frem’s voice was a growl. “I’ll find them, and they’ll pay for what they’ve done here.”
“You face a hopeless task,” whispered Garragh. “Three of our young men tried to follow them when they rode away. We found their bodies within a mile of the village. They had been beheaded. Horrible! Two experienced trackers took up what trail was left. We saw the carrion birds circling two days later. We brought their headless bodies back to bury with their families. Look to the future. The past is dead.”
The old man shuffled sadly away. He had loved Allid and Frem. He shared Frem’s outrage and hate, but no one knew better than he the hopelessness of trying to find the raiders. Years before, his wife had shared Allid’s fate, and he had tried to do the things that were a blazing flame in Frem’s mind.
Even now, knowing it would be a waste, in his heart he longed to follow the raiders with Frem at his side, but he was not a warrior. He bowed to his fate.
As Frem would be forced to bow to his.
Chapter 3
Time passed slowly. Frem’s body mended and, once again, his mind grew strong. Garragh worked with him always, teaching and explaining the ancient knowledge that was given to all Garraghs before him.
It was a monumental task. Everything was kept in the mind, even the knowledge added by the present Garragh. Frem labored mightily to absorb it all. The history of the village, even before the great flash of fire, was, to him, the history of the world.
But he did not forget the present. The terrible raid that had cost him Allid was never far from his thoughts. One day he spoke. “Garragh,” he announced, “we must do something to stop the raids against us. Can’t we find some way to defend ourselves?”
Garragh smiled. “You have learned,” he muttered, “that it has always been this way. Never have we had peace other than the peace of accepting our fate. You may find it difficult, but this is the way it has always been. There is no reason to think it will ever be any other.”
“Why must we accept it?” Frem asked. “If we try, can’t we find some other way to live?”
“If we can, there would be nothing to forbid it,” Garragh said slowly. A look of hope crossed his face. “Have you a plan?”
“Tell me again about the kings,” said Frem. “Maybe there’s something we’ve overlooked.”
So Garragh repeated the story of the kings as it happened long before in the history of the village.
Garragh, a strong and wise man, had survived a great raid agains

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