Free The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2) by Everet Martins Page A

also black, and around his belt Walter counted at least four blackened daggers. The king’s Black Guard.
    “Malek, you said you just increased our security, how could this have happened?” the king demanded.
    “I don’t know. It will not happen again, I assure you my majesty. I will personally inspect the guard’s stations securing entrance to your quarters.”
    “No, I shall not abstain any longer,” the king said, clenching his long fingers into a fist. That fist is all wrong for punching, Walter thought.
    The king’s eyes glazed over and he stared into the crackling hearth. “Lajoy, tomorrow we mobilize the armies to the west and the east,” he said. The white unkempt beard covering his face did not move when he spoke. “I can’t believe it. It’s actually true, the reports spoke true. We must crush these monsters before they spread and breed and become too much trouble.” Ezra trailed off to himself, mumbling.
    A hand gently grasped his shoulder, guiding him away from the parted door.
    “Are you sure that’s wise, my lord?” Malek said.
    Walter resisted the pull of Baylan’s hand. The king’s posture sagged and he scratched at his beard.
    “Allow me to check for other wounds,” Malek said, gently placing his hand upon the king’s bald head. White translucent spines, segmented like the legs of a spider slowly materialized from the wizard’s hand and then stabbed into the king’s skull. Walter’s breath caught in his throat and he placed his hand over his mouth to block any potential sound.
    “I think we should discuss this issue more before we take military action, don’t you agree my lord?”
    The king stared off for a long moment, eyes unblinking. “Yes,” he whispered. “No,” he said louder, gray eyes hard with resolve.
    “Warmaster, send the first battalion to the Nether and the second to Breden, and have them also comb the western coast up to the Great Retreat.”
    “Yes my King,” said Lajoy. The Warmaster slammed his dark chest plate with his fist.
    “These creatures, Death Spawn, shit of the Dragon, piss of the Phoenix in my house, my family!” Ezra shouted, standing with fists balled at his side. “Whoever did this will pay,” he said, sitting down on the bed, placing his hands in his lap. He stared into the fire again, muttering incoherencies.
    He turned to Malek and the life returned to his eyes. He sputtered, “You, you wizard. How did you get here?”
    “It is your advisor, Malek, my king.” Malek rubbed at the glowing crystal that hung from a chain around his neck.
    “Ah, yes, yes that’s right. You are my advisor, that’s good, yes. Is that right? I don’t trust you, how can I if I don’t know who you are?” Ezra said, scratching a bushy eyebrow.
    “My lord, you are clearly under a great deal of stress, perhaps you should think a bit more before deploying the Falcon.”
    “Perhaps, yes.”
    Lajoy hesitated before the door and frowned.
    Walter’s gaze flicked into the black, angry, deep set eyes of the Black Guard Warmaster.
    “We have ears,” Lajoy said, staring at Walter.
    A hand dug into his tunic and pulled him through the door, stumbling on his feet. He came face to face with another guard decked out in midnight armor. He had long blonde hair that looked white against his helm. Walter felt the blood rush to the surface of his skin, burning and tingling all over his body.
    “Who are you?” the king demanded.
    The blonde Black Guard pushed him before the king. “No sudden moves,” he sneered. Like you could stop me blondie?
    “Your lordship sir,” Walter dropped to one knee. “I am Malek’s companion I —”
    “Were you behind this?” the king roared.
    “What?” Walter blinked rapidly and turned his head to the side. He saw the two guards meet each other’s eyes, waiting for a reason to use their weapons. Lajoy’s expression changed as he looked Walter up and down. In all likelihood I’ve done something to give away my training. There was