The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1) Read Free Page B

particular night.
    Mithir was dumb. Maybe this was not entirely accurate. The boy did not seem to have any physical problem that prevented him to utter words, but for some reason, he didn't speak. Erion couldn't remember ever hearing him utter a word. However, he could issue grunts, groans, murmurs and laughter, for example. Mithir was also the closest thing to family he never had. He had met him as a child in the orphanage. His friend had entered the orphan when he was very small; perhaps about two years old, when Erion was six. Immediately he decided to take account of protecting the smallest of the other older boys. As he had experienced, the orphanage was very hard with the weakest and youngest. The older boys immediately began to abuse you. Erion had promised to try to avoid the hardships that he had suffered. The child was relatively fragile and would not have lasted long in that place without his help.
    Mithir was also other things. For example, he was the best magician he had ever met. Although he hadn't met many. But it was obvious he had a natural talent for magic.
    They distributed the loot in their usual way. A quarter each. The rest would be dedicated to their investment project. Erion would make the payment in the next town they'd visit.
    He then remembered the small box. He asked Mithir to revise it.  The magician performed some quick hand movements, and then he stopped. He then performed another series of gestures and uttered a murmur that sounded like a growl. Mithir explained by signs that the box didn't seem to have traps or magical protections but that, however, the content itself seemed magical.
    Mithir and Erion had learned sign language long ago and was the fundamental mechanism they used to communicate. Very few people knew this language in the kingdom of Bor. They had had to pay a very large amount to very important wise man that lived in Killian, Kiyats County south of the kingdom, for him to teach them and train them. But it had been worth it. Over time, he had gotten used to it and Erion felt that this communication was almost "normal"; in some aspects even better, since they could communicate in silence. And they could do it without anyone around her understanding. It was like speaking a foreign eccentric language.
    Erion took out his picks for the last time that day, and opened the small chest with more difficulty than he expected. Inside it was a charm enshrined in a pendant. The amulet was shaped like a dove. Mithir looked at him and smiled.
     

CHAPTER 2: THE ROYAL BOX

     
    With a stroke of the spur, the warhorse began his ride around the track of the tournament. Abakai leaned forward to get the maximum range with his spear and prepare for impact. His opponent came from the front at a blistering pace, while the large audience held their breath.
    The knight he was competing against was Elynath, champion from the Mark of Calen. A warrior of great experience, equally feared and respected by all his contenders, and had also been a champion of the tournament of the kingdom of Bor twice. They said his white horse, Mephineus, was the fastest of the ones competing; a thoroughbred of the Aurum Emirates. The spear struck the armor of the opposing knight with a huge roar.
    Vargarr watched, carefree, from the Royal Box. As a Major from the Bor Army, he had the privilege of attending this box as guest of honor at any occasion. He always tried to attend when the most famous knights participated in the competition. He enjoyed thinking that, with a little luck, one of the gentlemen would die during the joust. This would make the show more vibrant and interesting. It was so tedious and boring when the warriors turned out unharmed! Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
    “Who do you think will win?” Lakajev asked, as he sat on Vargarr's left.
    “Elynath has more experience, and still has a formidable arm. He's a famous knight and most people see him as a favorite,” the Major answered.
    “How about