Dragon Knight - The Ancestor Gods Saga Book 2

3. The Men Outside the Law

I was worried.

Seeing the mess made of the wagon had caused me to wonder what was going on with my family. I was trying to mask my anxiety from the others, hoping there was a simple explanation for the lapse.

Back when my grandfather was just a boy, he incinerated his stepfather. The man was abusive, and no doubt had it coming, but when a child reduces a man to ashes in a split second, it tends to upset people.

His mother thought it safest to run away with him and hide in the forest. That is where he grew into a young man, learning how to survive and to keep himself and his mother's presence a secret.

That was when he discovered how infested with outlaws the great forest was. It was and remains the safest place for a man who has defied the law to hide. Some men even choose to join an outlaw gang before they have been forced to leave their hometowns or villages.

An outlaw is literally outside of the law. Once labelled that way they have no rights, and any person can kill them without fear of repercussions. It is a brutal system, but in a land where there is limited law enforcement to begin with, it is necessary.

My grandfather could have joined the outlaws. Some of the bigger gangs would have welcomed him and his supernatural talents. Fortunately, my grandfather has a strong sense of right and wrong. He saw the things the outlaws did, and he chose to act against them instead of joining them.

He did so secretly for a long time, quietly protecting innocent people who were just going about their business. Outlaws steal, they rape, they murder. Admittedly, not all of them; some are men who have fallen foul of the law for unfortunate reasons. Some are even wrongly accused and made outlaws. But a lot of them are just vile creatures who terrorise ordinary people.

My grandfather tried to even the balance and for a time that was enough for him. Then my great grandmother died, and he had to make a decision. Stay in hiding or forge a new path.

One day he strode back into the town his mother had fled from with him so many years before. He was unrecognisable as the boy who had slain his stepfather.

He likes to tell how he was a scrawny lad in ragged clothes, who everyone thought was a beggar. They were going to give him bread and water and send him on his way. He stood before them, and he declared loudly that from now on the town was under his protection.

You can imagine the astonishment this caused. He bore no weapons. He looked ill-built to be a fighter. A few people laughed; others thought him mad. He had expected as much, which was why he had brought them proof of his intent.

He drew from a sack the head of an outlaw chief whose gang had been ransacking the town and making the forest impossible to enter for weeks.

People didn't laugh anymore. They gave him a room to sleep in. They brought him food and drink, new clothes and offered him weapons. He turned these down, preferring to rely on his hunting knife and his old bow. The truth was, he did not know how to use anything else – at least not back then.

And that was how it began. He dealt with the rest of the outlaw gang, and he made the forests safe again. He made the road out of town secure for traders and travellers and he guaranteed to continue to do so until his days ended (which being a demigod is not something that happens easily).

Since then, my family has protected the town and their curious powers have been overlooked because of this consideration. Otherwise, I doubt we would live so harmoniously among our neighbours.

Which is why the sight of the burned-out wagon was troubling me deeply.

The town came into view around another bend in the forest road. I noticed at once that things seemed quieter. No one came out to see the new arrivals and I only saw a handful of children playing outdoors. A chill ran through me.