Dark King Of The North (Book 3) Read Free

coin are the military, and they don’t need it because everything is free for their taking. The rest of the nation struggles with a bartering system.”
    “Primitive.”
    “It keeps the populace in check,” Randall said. “Without gold or silver, they can’t afford weapons or mercenaries.”
    “Sounds as if your father expects a rebellion.”
    “My father always expects a rebellion.”
    “Should I hunt for our meals?”
    Randall shook his head. “We’re too near the Prisonlands for any population, but in another day or two we should run across some serf homes. They will feed us. They’re used to doing what they’re told, and you look too Kobalan not to be a military officer.”
    Kron glanced down at his black attire. “I do strike a Kobalan flare, don’t I?”
    “But can you pass as Kobalan?” Randall asked. “Do you know the language?”
    “I learned several languages in the Prisonlands,” Kron said with a fluent Kobalan brogue.
    An unseen crackle in the air, like invisible lightning, sounded in front of them and caused Randall’s horse to stall. Kron looked up and pulled his steed to a stop in time to keep from running over an old man in long robes and a course traveling cloak, the hood pulled up to cover most of his lengthy, gray hair.
    “Maslin Markwood.” Randall smiled as he dismounted and approached the old friend.
    “Well met, my boy,” the mage said, taking Randall’s hand, shaking it firmly, then grasping the boy at the shoulders for a stout hug.
    Kron dropped from his horse and approached, holding the reins of his own steed and taking those of Randall’s.
    Markwood turned toward the man in black, hesitated a moment, then put out a hand.
    Kron too paused, then shook the hand, with a slight smile.
    Markwood returned the grin. “My apologies about that business in the Prisonlands,” he said. “ I don’t know everything that happened there, but I see the young lady is no longer with you.”
    Kron and Randall exchanged uneasy glances.
    “I saw her last riding with the border patrol in the Lands,” Markwood said.
    “You’re aware of what’s going on there?” Randall asked.
    “It’s brought me much concern, and has drawn the attention of more than a few of my associates,” the mage said.
    Kron raised an eyebrow. “Other wizards?”
    “Governments, too,” Markwood said. “The exiles receiving weapons is a serious matter, one that could have worldly consequences.”
    “Do you know where the weapons came from?” Kron asked.
    “I have suspicions,” Markwood said.
    “Who?” Kron asked.
    “I believe it is Lord Verkain,” Markwood said.
    Randall appeared stunned at the mention of his father.
    “He could be using the Prisonlands as a diversion,” Markwood said, “and more than a few of the exiles have been brought into his fold.”
    “But why?” Randall asked.
    “The prophecy,” Markwood said. “You’re drawing near to him, which is why his war demons have not pestered you in some time. He sees no reason to waste resources when you are coming of your own accord.”
    “He’s keeping the wardens and other nations focused on the Prisonlands while he draws together his army,” Kron conjectured.
    “Exactly right,” the wizard said. “He already has armies stationed near his capital.”
    Randall shook his head. “This can’t be. Not this soon. Kobalos isn’t that big of a country. Even with the East and West preoccupied, he couldn’t raise an army large enough to defeat either of them, let alone both.”
    “You yourself have said the man is insane,” Kron said. “He believes in this prophecy of the end of days, and how he’s the Dark King of the North.”
    “And the next step for him is to slay you .” Markwood glared at Randall.
    “We’re walking into the dragon’s mouth,” Randall said with a blank look.
    “Yes, you most certainly are.” Markwood grinned as he gripped the youth by a shoulder. “But that’s why I am here. To stay this