Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) Read Free

through the thick forest north of Palehorse, and none of the king’s men had spotted them. Their mission could not have gone better.
    That was not to say they hadn’t sighted Lahnen’s soldiers. They hid whenever they heard their shouts in the distance, and Chalis taught them how to cover themselves in mud to fool the sharp noses of their pursuers’ hounds. When the errant soldier or dog emerged from the brush, they lay still in the forest’s muddy glades as their trackers walked right past them.
    Lady Qabala herself had given Rade coin before they left, a pouch bursting with silver sepps and copper helms. It was enough to buy four horses once they emerged from the forest, and they wasted no time procuring their mounts. They were able to find a horse trader at the first village they encountered. Rade haggled so hard he had enough left over to bribe the villagers, in case soldiers came looking for them.
    The farther north they rode, the less they had to fear pursuit. They were entering rebel territory under the control of her Ladyship, the young woman many were referring to as Qabala the Unbreakable. Not a year before she had been a dissenting voice, one of the many people fed up with King Lahnen and his endless taxes and policies. Now she led a vast host made up of soldiers, militia, and mercenaries.
    Nerris’s thoughts were interrupted as Chalis shoved a smoking haunch of rabbit in his face. Nerris pushed it away. “No, thank you.”
    “You should eat something,” Rade said, sitting on a boulder he had rolled up to their crackling fire. “The game gets scarcer as the weather turns.”
    “I’ve been through a few winters,” Nerris said. “I run faster when I’m hungry, that’s all.”
    “Run?” Chalis asked.
    “What do you call this?” Nerris gestured around them. “Mikaren didn’t wander off just to take a piss.”
    “I reckon old King Lahnen took a piss when you came up on him,” Chalis said.
    Nerris nodded. “He did.”
    “So what happened back there?” Rade asked.
    The question’s directness startled Nerris. Ever since they fled the Aeternica, none of his companions had asked him about what had transpired in the king’s chambers. “I’m a man who enjoys his privacy,” he said. “I don’t kiss and tell, with my lips or my blade.”
    Rade shrugged. “Fair enough. I’m surprised a man like you would take on the mantle of assassin, that’s all.” The old man got to his feet and shoved the boulder away, allowing him to pull his bedroll closer to the fire.
    “And what do you know about me?” Nerris asked.
    “A great deal more than you believe I do, Nerris Palada.”
    Nerris scoffed. “You’ve been listening to blowzy barmaids and fickle farmers.”
    “Who says I do? No, no one has given you away. I know who you are because of Derrin Palada.”
    Nerris stood. “How do you know my father’s name?”
    Rade lay across his bedroll, blanket draped on top, his back to Nerris. “You have your secrets, Nerris. Allow an old man the same courtesy.”
    Nerris stared, but Rade made no further comment. He turned back to a wide-eyed Chalis.
    “You’re—”
    Nerris sighed. “Yes, I am Nerris Palada of the Thrillseekers. Let’s not spread this around, all right?”
    Chalis still gaped at him, unable to answer. Nerris turned toward his own bedroll to find Mikaren sitting by the fire, warming his hands. Nerris didn’t even flinch at the older man’s stealth. He was used to Mikaren’s comings and goings by now. “Find anyone?” he asked.
    “Two men,” Mikaren said. “Outriders, most like. They won’t be reporting back.”
    “Good.” Nerris pulled his own blanket over his body.
    Chalis pointed at him. “But you’re Nerris—”
    “Go to bed, Mikaren,” Nerris interrupted. “Chalis is obviously too excited to sleep, so we’ll let him have first watch.”
    A cold, stiff rain fell on them the next day as their mounts slogged northward through the mud. Rade determined they were far