The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains Read Free

Unlinn?” I spoke to see if a tale of mine could stir his tired spirit enough to have a full belly before bed. My mind went to where I had possibly left off a year ago.
    “Yes, but I want to hear about giants.”
    “Then listen closely, for Saberrak knows much of giants. I can tell you what I know of him, and that is in no small fashion, about giants.” I stood him up on his bed, pulling the laid out tabard and pants over and under as he balanced his hand on my shoulder.
    “Giants like Sir Ullimar?”
    “No my boy, real giants, four times taller than the knight we saw today.”
    “That is humongous!”
    “I am aware. When Saberrak was young, very young, he was forced to fight in the arenas of Unlinn like his father. His master Zeress, the ogre that owned him, had lost too many fights to the king of the ogre that month and needed a victory desperately.” I noticed some interest back in those baby blue eyes, so I continued. This story, where I left off after her passing, would hopefully take my mind off of it all for a time. I tried to banish the thought of a noble meeting in the capital to which I have been summoned. I tucked the scroll from the king away in my robes, vowing to read it later, alone. The fear of someone finding out about me, alive or immortal, and losing it all again, weighed on my serenity.
    “After the plague had finished its course in Arouland and Unlinn, the arena was flourishing underground once more. King Avegarne the rotted had a prize fighter, Chalas Kalaza, who had all but won his freedom, and Zeress had left only fighters far too old, or far too young.”
    “Dada? Where are the giants?”
    “Coming son, they are coming. Be patient now.” I smiled, loving every breath my boy took as his curiosity and attention rose. “Determined to save face, and gain some coin, the ogre slaver took a gamble. The gray one was only seven, but nearly grown for a minotaur. Zeress had heard that his father Tathlyn was secretly training him to fight, and the ogre wondered just how much. Against his better judgment, which was poor to begin with, he took young Saberrak to the pits and challenged…”

 
    Introduction
    Saberrak III:I
    Arena City of Unlinn, Chazzrynn 341 A.D.
    “ The fear cometh, or it cometh not. Who it be or what it was, will matter little. How one stands before it, lowers horns with it, and makes it tremble is all that will be held for the counting.” ---Last words of the minotaur slave, J’rannen the black of Unlinn, spoken to his two sons before his fight with Shelyr-kas the brown of Halay, in which he died honorably and quickly, with his horns lowered. Circa 167 A.D.
     
    “Is Saberrak coming back?” Tychaeus had watched his father pace back and forth for hours it seemed. His scar covered gray hide went from silence to shadow in their barred cavern home. He had not spoken much in countless hours, not to anyone, and not eaten. Only three and too young for the arena, yet Tychaeus knew well enough that his older brother had been taken there to fight.
    “He had better. They take minotaurs at seven winters now, damn focking bastards ! I should never have trained him, then he would have another season or two.” Tathlyn stalked, his hand in a fist on his chest, the other stroking the gray and black beard of thin hair from his bovine chin and nose. He twisted it back and forth, wrapped it painfully in his fingers, and gritted his teeth. His horns swung from side to side with every step, turning his neck muscles back and forth in disbelief and frustration. “Zeress is mad, insane for taking your brother so early!”
    “What do we do then?”
    His footsteps of hundreds of pounds echoed in the rock quarters with iron bars they called home, deep underground. There was one door, locked and chained from the outside like so many hundreds of others in the slave caverns. He stared out into the dismal torchlight of Unlinn and toward the arena he could not see or hear. “We wait, son.”
    “Wait