Of Blood And Fire Ryan Cahill (nice books to read .txt) 📖

“I come when I please,” it hissed, turning back into the tent. Even in the dim light, the creature’s cavernous black eyes were clear to see.

“What do you want?”

“I need soldiers.”

“For what?”

What Farda could only describe as a growl emanated from the Fade’s throat. “You were right.” The words left its mouth like chains dragged across stone. Farda couldn’t help but grin. They must be heading to Belduar.

“And what, may I ask, was I right about?”

“Enough games. I grow tired of them,” the Fade said, dropping into the chair opposite Farda’s cot.

Farda didn’t reply immediately. He reached over to the bowl of water at his feet, placed it on his lap, and then splashed its contents on to his face. “I thought you enjoy games?” he said, wiping the water up his face and through his hair.

The Fade didn’t reply. It simply stared at him. Its attenuated lips were drawn into a brittle line. Its near translucent fingers tapped on the arm of the chair.

“Okay,” Farda sighed. He needed sleep, and he’d had his fun. “I don’t have enough soldiers for you to take Belduar. The empire hasn’t been able to break through its gates in four hundred years.”

“I don’t intend on taking the gates. I only need a thousand men.”

Farda raised a curious eyebrow.

The Fade’s thin lips pulled into a wicked grin that set an uneasy feeling into Farda’s stomach.

CHAPTER 27

Worlds Apart

Calen shook his head as he did his best to stay upright in the saddle. He stifled a yawn. His eyelids began to lose their fight against gravity. Ever since the Fade showed up that night, Aeson pushed them harder and harder to reach Belduar. They barely slept four hours a night, and every waking moment was spent in the saddle. Calen was certain that there were entire stretches of the journey where he was completely unconscious while riding his horse. How the horses kept up the pace was a mystery, although Calen suspected the Spark was involved. He had seen Vaeril and Therin tending to the horses each night before they ate.

Every part of his body ached. His back and his legs were stiff from all the riding, while his inner thighs felt like they had been stripped bare, and the muscles in his stomach burned with a fury. Over the last few weeks, his body had begun to get used to the pains of the saddle, but the last few days had taken that to a whole new level.

Even at Aeson’s new rapid pace, he still managed to find time for Calen to practice his sword forms. Calen also continued his lessons with Therin and sparred with Gaeleron each night. He was not sure what he had done to make Gaeleron hate him so much, but the elf seemed to take pleasure in leaving Calen to nurse new bruises and cuts. It was the only time Calen saw him smile.

“How’s the head?” Erik asked, yawning as he pulled his horse up alongside Calen’s. There were dark, drooping circles under Erik’s usually alert and vibrant eyes.

“Yeah,” Calen replied, twisting his mouth. He absently rubbed at the lump on the back of his head where he had taken a nasty blow from Gaeleron the night before. Even then, it throbbed. He felt a puff of annoyance from Valerys at the mention of Gaeleron’s name. A growl came from the young dragon’s chest as he padded along beside the horses. “I think it will feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

“Aye,” Erik said, laughing. “I know that feeling, all right. And you, Dann. How goes hunting with Alea and Lyrei?”

Dann blushed when Erik followed up his question with a sly wink. Dann had been spending a lot of time with the twins over the last few nights. He had even taken to hunting with them and joining them on guard when he could. He had insisted that it was to learn more about the craftsmanship of elven bows, but Calen had a feeling that there might be a bit more to his intentions.

“It goes well. I am learning a lot.” Dann kept his reply short, probably trying to avoid any teasing.

“I’m sure you are,” Erik said with another wink that made Calen burst out laughing.

“Oh, fuck off.” Dann gave his horse a tap in the side and kicked on ahead, which only made Erik and Calen laugh harder.

Up ahead, Ellisar stood with his hands on his hips. “This looks like a dead end.”

The path ahead closed off into a small alcove, with rising rock faces on all sides.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Aeson replied. He dismounted, took his bay by the reigns, and led him over towards the rock face on the right-hand side of the alcove. Aeson reached into his bag and pulled out a smooth green stone, with veins of white that rippled just under the surface. It looked as if it were made of glass. A slight shimmer bounced off its surface whenever it caught the sun.

Therin had been teaching Calen to identify the different threads when other wielders drew from the Spark. He was not particularly good at it, but Therin had insisted that it was the quickest way to learn. It was difficult to tell, but it looked like Aeson drew threads of Spirit into the stone.

The stone began to pulsate in a green glow. Calen blinked and wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms. Where there had been a wall of stone, as solid as any Calen had seen, only moments before, there now stood the mouth to a cave. It was over ten feet wide and eight feet high. It seemed to stretch onwards forever into the mountainside.

“Okay… I’ve seen a lot of things in this last month or so, but somebody is going to have to explain this,” Dann said. He sat there on his patchy grey horse, his arms folded across his chest in protest, with a stubborn look on