Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1) Read Free Page A

empty Chaos entirely.’
    Jillan could not move, pinned where he was between the crenellations by the looming Hero. He’d leaned back as far as he dared, clinging desperately to the stonework with his fingers to prevent himself from falling fully thirty feet to the midden ditch and cemetery below. He dared not breathe lest Samnir’s wild and tortured gaze suddenly focus on him, rather than looking through him.
    ‘Do not become like me,’ the Hero whispered. ‘A ghost wailing in the wind. A being of so little substance and worth that even the spirits of the dead below shun his company and search elsewhere for the warmth of life. Promise me!’
    Jillan nodded and swallowed fearfully. His assent seemed to appease the soldier, who blinked several times and then apparently came back to himself. ‘I’m sorry, boy. I didn’t mean to scare you.’
    Jillan dragged himself up and planted his feet safely back on the walkway. ‘I-I still like you, Samnir. I don’t think you’re the lowest of the low,’ he mumbled, but then betrayed his words by running for the stairs.
    ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ Samnir called after him. ‘I’ll tell you more about the mountains if you like! They’re a stronghold for the pagans and the Chaos. They are a place so cold and inhospitable that not even the Saints will venture there alone. Boy! If you ever need my help …’
    The Hero watched the boy go. He turned his bleak gaze towards the forest of nodding fir trees which stretched all the way to the distant mountains. A chill wind rattled his teeth and he hunkered down into his armour. If he was any judge, there would be snow early in the mountains, and that meant a long hard winter that not everyone would survive. The harvest had barely finished. What had happened to the autumn? So short, and gone like his youth. ‘Damn that boy! He makes me forget myself,’ he murmured.
    Shaken, Jillan ran all the way to school. Everything had been turned upside down so far today, so he was eager to see the familiar faces of his few friends and have some sort of comforting routine restored by the school day.
    The other children of Godsend stood waiting outside the large oak door to the school. They mainly kept together for shelter from the wind that whistled across the expanse of the Gathering Place at the centre of town.
    ‘I was worried you’d be late!’ Hella said with a dimpling smile.
    Breathing hard, Jillan only nodded by way of reply.
    ‘What’s that smell? Middens are strong today!’ Haal, Elder Corin’s son, said loudly. His friends Karl and Silus snickered.
    Haal was heavily built like his father, but where Elder Corin was something of a gentle giant, Haal used his size to get the other students to do whatever he told them. Jed had told Jillan that nature sometimes gave those who were slow of wit extra strength, as otherwise they would not be able to survive in the world. Jillan didn’t know if that was true or not, and it really didn’t matter either way, since Minister Praxis knew better than to be hard on the elder’s son for being dull and lazy. As far as Jillan could tell, Haal could be the stupidest and weakest person in the world but he would still survive more easily than others, and stupidly think to mock them while doing so.
    Normally Jillan would have ignored Haal’s comment, for he’d been saying such things for years, but Jillan wasn’t feeling normal today. Today was not a normal day. Today was a day when parents argued, Heroes faltered and friends became angry. Today was a day when Jillan had confessed his fear of the Minister, told his dream of becoming a hunter, looked forward to being Drawn and worried about finding a wife one day. Today was a day when Jillan could no longer pretend to be a child. Today began the fight that would last the rest of his life.
    He squared his shoulders, faced Haal and glared at him. Jillan was gratified to see uncertainty creep into the other’s eyes.
    ‘Jillan, don’t do