Soul of Swords (Book 7) Read Free Page A

is their pursuers that concern me.”
    “Pursuers?” said Gerald. “We were not…”
    “Runedead,” said Toric. “Over a thousand strong, and of a sort I have not seen before. The sigils upon their brows blaze with crimson fire, not green.”
    “Crimson fire?” said Gerald. “Caraster’s runedead had symbols of crimson fire on their foreheads.”
    “And Caraster’s runedead belong to Lucan now,” said Mazael.
    “Gods, Mazael,” said Gerald. “They followed us here. I’m sorry. We…”
    Mazael lifted a hand. “Do not blame yourself. Even if you were slain, we would have had to face Lucan’s runedead eventually.” He looked back at Toric. “Where are they?”
    “Four miles west of here, hrould,” said Toric, “heading east upon the road. They are making for the castle, and ignoring anyone in their path.”
    “Good,” said Mazael. If the runedead were focused upon Gerald and his men, they would not hurt anyone else. Perhaps he could use that to their advantage.
    “How did they even find us?” said Rachel.
    “It would not be a hard guess,” said Gerald, “to realize that we would go to Mazael for help.”
    “An awakened runedead must be leading them,” said Riothamus. “The runedead are usually mindless, even if they retained the skills they possessed in life, but I suspect Lucan gave an awakened runedead command of this group and set it to follow you. An awakened runedead, bound to Lucan’s control, would chase you to the ends of the earth.”
    “I will ride out and draw it away from you,” said Gerald, and Rachel grabbed his arm.
    “No, you will not,” said Mazael, thinking.
    “Are your walls warded, my lord?” said Adalar. “If the runedead become immaterial, they could enter unhindered.”
    “Indeed,” said Sir Wesson. “We lost many castles that way in the first hours of the Great Rising.”
    Mazael nodded. “Timothy and Riothamus warded them well. Toric! How long until the runedead arrive?”
    “No more than an hour, hrould,” said Toric. 
    “Very well,” said Mazael. He pointed at some of the pages attending the lords. “You and you. Find Sir Hagen Bridgebane and Earnachar son of Balnachar and tell them to gather every man they can muster. My lord Gerald, Sir Commander Aidan, gather your men and ride with us.”
    Gerald nodded. “We came for your help, and you shall have ours.”
    “Good,” said Mazael, turning. “Guardian. Daughter. We shall need your aid as well.”
    Riothamus nodded. “You have it.”
    “Why, Father,” said Molly. “You do know how I love a good fight before dinner.”
    She was joking, but not entirely. He saw the eager glint in her gray eyes. He knew she felt a fire in her blood, an eagerness for battle, for combat, for the death of foes.
    For he felt the same thing in his Demonsouled blood, and he had struggled to contain that rage for years. The arrival of the runedead brought a peculiar sort of relief. Here was a foe he could fight without reservation, without mercy. 
    He had sworn to defend the folk of the Grim Marches and the Tervingi nation, and he would not suffer the runedead upon his land.
    “Come,” Mazael said. “We will ride as soon as you are ready.”

Chapter 2 - Hunters of the Dead

    Within an hour over four hundred horsemen passed through the gates of Castle Cravenlock, circled around the castle’s rocky hill, and rode west. 
    Mazael rode at their head atop an ill-tempered destrier named Gauntlet. He wore armor fashioned from the carcass of the dragon he had slain in the mountains, the scales flashing like gold in the afternoon sun. Sir Aulus Hirtan, a thin, sour-faced knight, rode at Mazael’s left, carrying the Cravenlock standard, a black banner displaying three crossed silver swords. At his right rode Riothamus and Romaria and Sir Hagen Bridgebane, the black-bearded knight who served as Mazael’s armsmaster. After them came two hundred of Mazael’s sworn knights and armsmen, and fifty of the knights who had come