Free Shadow Of The Mountain by D.A. Stone Page A

those races when you’re as young as you are, but you’ve got the frame for it.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Why was everyone so interested in that race, though? Had he done something wrong?
    “First Mage Braiden tells me you wished to study dragons at Odenna and that you did very well on the entrance exam. He also told me you qualified, so you would have made it. Congratulations.”
    “I…that is all I ever wanted to do,” Tenlon said as he exhaled a deep breath.
    “Yes, I know, a sad state of affairs.” The king waved his hand, moving back behind the table. “Draxakis fought with Shadowfist so many years ago, and had we been able to breed him, today would have been a very different day. But that is not a discussion for the here and now. I‘m sure you are wondering why you were brought to me.”
    “Very much, sir.”
    The king cleared his throat. “I have something here that I need to get to the coast. An artifact. You are a mage apprentice and a good rider, so you will carry it for me. Kreiden Baelik will accompany you, along with a small escort.”
    At the mention of the champion’s name, Tenlon immediately recognized the golden-haired warrior near the entrance. First Sword to the king? This continued to get worse.
    “The old mages dug up all sorts of antiquated shit from Corda’s archives before the battle, texts and artifacts I’ve neither the time nor inclination to begin to understand. Anything they thought to be useful was brought with us. And now…” The king shrugged his shoulders. “Should we fall here, there are a few pieces that cannot be allowed into enemy hands. You will be carrying one such piece to safety.”
    Tenlon was frightened now. This was really happening. He was just a boy, a student, not a warrior-in-training. It all sounded like an extremely dangerous task, even with an Amorian escort. Anything could go wrong on such a ride, especially with the Volrathi so close.
    “I am honored, sir, but…” The words already sounded so lame it damn near made him cringe. “You must have others who can handle this.” A look of annoyance flashed across Healianos’s bearded face.
    “The artifact is heavy so I need someone small. The artifact needs to have its enchantments adjusted, so I need someone familiar with the Arts. I have no desire to send good cavalrymen into hostile territory to protect some random mage who rides like a fucking old woman.” His words gained force. “My lead mages have all been slain and their understudies will likely follow them in a few hours. You will do as I order, without question. And you should consider yourself lucky. I’m giving you a horse and an escort out. Few will get such a chance in the coming hours.”
    The king seemed to be fuming now, his anger held in check by some unseen thread that was twisted and frayed, in danger of snapping any second. What could he say to the king or even begin to offer? What could anyone offer the man except compliance?
    “I will do what you ask of me,” Tenlon told him softly.
    “I knew you would.”
    Suddenly the flap of the tent’s entrance opened and an Amorian soldier began making his way backwards into the chamber.
    To Tenlon’s horror, the man was carrying a corpse towards them with the help of another. The body was garbed in black armor and the two seemed to strain under its weight. It was the first time Tenlon saw a soldier of the Volrathi up close.
    The corpse was dropped on a sheet of canvas and Tenlon stared at the largest man he’d ever seen. His neck and arms were bulging with muscle and veins wrapped around his biceps like buried snakes. There was a nauseating gash on the top of his head that exposed his insides, and when the soldiers dropped him Tenlon swore he saw a chunk of skull and brain dash out with the blood. The young apprentice thought he might vomit.
    “A bigger one, just like you asked,” one of the soldiers said, breathing hard. The king bent down and began to examine the giant, waving