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    Midnight On Frostveil Mountain
    Midnight On Frostveil Mountain
    Midnight On Frostveil Mountain
    Ebook28 pages25 minutes

    Midnight On Frostveil Mountain

    By Ross Dupree

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    About this ebook

    A Tales Of Correndrum Short Story (6800 words) -

    Amund, Sheriff of the frontier mountain town Barrindal, finds himself left to his own resources when the town's garrison is called away. After a new band of vicious bandits takes advantage of the moment to wipe out nearby farming families, Amund has no choice but to round up the few reliable men in town and hunt the killers down. Armed with their swords and their courage, Amund and his men pursue the deadly gang into the forest, heading to a terrible confrontation at Frostveil Mountain.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRoss Dupree
    Release dateMay 30, 2013
    ISBN9781301095377
    Midnight On Frostveil Mountain

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      Book preview

      Midnight On Frostveil Mountain - Ross Dupree

      Midnight On Frostveil Mountain

      Published by Rams Rampant Press at Smashwords

      Copyright 2013 Ross Dupree

      Amund's feet sank deep into the ground as he moved slowly through the mud, and with each step the muck threatened to pull his boots off with a deep slurping sound. He was making his way to the next log to dig it free so the boy Palry and his mule could tow it clear of the mudslide. The logs were strewn across the hillside, lying half-buried wherever the slide had tossed them. Some were a hundred yards or more further down the slope. This was going to be a long day.

      The logs had been part of the wooden palisade that surrounded the town of Barrindal. The slide had taken down a long section of the wall, snapping the tall sharpened pine logs and dragging them toward the river. It also destroyed a small shack just outside the town's perimeter. Yesterday Amund had helped dig out the corpse of Sinsen, a misfit old man who had never been quite at home inside the fence, surrounded by other people. He then gave the man a proper burial under the pines just outside town. Drowned in mud was an ignominious end even for a semi-hermit.

      As the mule towed another log out of the muck, he looked away to the north. The land sloped downward in that direction for several miles, through low, forested hills and then out to open plains where the farmers lived and worked. There had been a thick column of smoke in that direction this morning. He thought it must have come from one of the farms that bordered the forest, but he did not know if it indicated ill. Sometimes the farmers would clear some of the forested land, use the trunks for lumber, and burn the rest. Though those fires usually started at the end of a work day, and would lead to long nights of workers drinking cider and

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