Free Broken Crossroads (Knights of the Shadows Book 1) by Patrick LeClerc

structure, and tall plants and saplings grew up through gaps in the blocks.
    They crept up on the tower and found it unoccupied except for the birds and small animals who scurried away at their approach. Conn stepped through the empty gap which had once been a doorway, scanning the interior. Trilisean glided in behind him, drifting off to the right, her back against the wall.
    The inside of the tower was some fifteen feet across, the walls ending unevenly about ten feet from the ground. Hollows were visible where supports for the upper floor must have rested, but the beams themselves were long since rotted away, the sockets now filled with dried grass and twigs by nesting birds.
    The earthen floor was strewn with fallen stones and choked with undergrowth. Conn prodded the floor with his spear and found a rusted axe head. Several small bones were scattered about, but from what creature, he had no idea.
    He looked at Trilisean. She raised an eyebrow and indicated a point on the ground. He followed her gesture and recoiled at the sight of an ivory brown spider lurking in the weeds, the span of its legs nearly six inches across.
    The thief stepped carefully but calmly over to it, brushed aside the foliage with the toe of her boot, revealing the skeletal remains of a human hand, tangled in the grass.
    Conn relaxed, a bit embarrassed at his reaction. Trilisean stooped, examined the hand and then stood, holding a small, blackened object.
    Conn looked a question at her as she scrubbed at the thing. She displayed it with a smile. It was a ring, glinting dully through ages of tarnish where she had scraped at it.
    Conn shook his head. “You could kiss a man and count his gold teeth,” he breathed.
    Further search told them nothing. The bridge had fallen and the tower been swallowed by the forest years ago. Perhaps centuries, but neither of them could say. The road leading to the bridge was lost in the undergrowth. They could only guess its course because they knew it to be there. They found no sign of recent human occupation, no tracks but their own. They began to breathe easier.
    “Wonder what this tower was for?” said Conn.
    “Bridge toll? Guard tower for the bridge?”
    “I suppose. I just never heard of any roads or bridges out this way. Not enough left of anything to tell who built it.”
    “I'll mark it on the map,” said Trilisean. “Maybe some scholar will pay for the information. This might be a new ancient civilization for them to poke around at.”
    “What about the ring?”
    She shrugged. “Looks to be silver. It has a stone, but I won't be sure what until I can give it a good cleaning. The band is smooth, fairly wide. No inscription I can see.”
    They continued their trek. A few hours after noon, Conn halted and pulled out the map.
    “That should be the way up.” He pointed at a break in the brush on their left. “That saddle up ahead looks like this spot here,” he pointed at the map, “so the temple should be on the west face of this hill here, which,” he pointed at a green rise off to the left, “should be that.”
    “You think so?”
    He shrugged. “The map shows a hill just before that saddle. That is a big thing sticking up in the right place, so I say we go have a look.”
    “Lead on, o wise one.”
    They made their way through the woods up the rise. Conn found a game trail and avoided the densest brush.
    As they approached the crest, he stopped.
    She raised her eyebrows as he turned toward her. He pointed at the ground before him.
    Trilisean advanced and saw the sunken bed of an old road. A few paving stones were still visible, although most were uprooted or buried. It was two carts wide, and had clearly been quite the thoroughfare in its time.
    She shrugged, indicating the road with a tilt of her head. He nodded.
    They moved slowly up the old road, Conn five yards ahead on the right side and Trilisean back and on the left, both moving quietly and straining eyes and ears for signs of