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

Tenlon over. Hesitantly he made his way to the king’s side, teeth gritted against the bile rising up in his throat.
    “Notice anything?” the king questioned.
    “Besides the fact that he’s built like a bull?”
    “Yes, besides his obvious size. Look closer,” the king said. “Look at his eyes.”
    Tenlon leaned in, pulling his gaze from the terrible head wound, examining the man’s eyes. The pupils were a perfect black, like deep pools of ink. The rest of his eyes were a normal white, and Tenlon knew something was wrong. No one had eyes like that. There was something vile about the man lying on the floor, something unnatural. Tenlon suddenly felt too close to the body and thought it might reach out and crush him.
    Maybe the man wasn’t dead, his mind screamed. Maybe he was just pretending so he could get closer to the king and kill him. Tenlon rose and backed away a pace.
    “His eyes are black as night. What is wrong with him?”
    “Nothing,” the king answered. “They are all like that.”
    Tenlon had no reply. He knew the great army called itself the Volrathi but had no idea their men were so large. Lightning cracked against the sky outside and he remembered the clouds that had pulled together, swirling around the battling mages. Dark magic had changed the weather and created the storm, which still hadn’t stopped. In fact, it seemed to be growing in strength. That was real power.
    Amoria was the greatest army in the realm, and if they lost so much on the first day, then other nations would surely suffer the same fate. Draxakis was no longer here to protect them. Amoria was alone and far from anyone resembling an ally.
    “I don’t think I can do what you ask of me,” he whispered.
    Healianos ordered the two soldiers to take the body outside. Tenlon stared into the black eyes as they wrapped him up and carried him out.
    “I have much to do,” the king told him calmly. “You are the one I choose. This is not a discussion.”
    Tenlon’s frail shoulders dropped. He nodded in agreement.
    “Braiden!” Healianos bellowed, startling the young apprentice.
    The heavy canvas of an inside wall was pulled aside and an old mage with wrinkled skin and a wispy, white beard poked his head in.
    The king walked back to his reports on the table, speaking to Tenlon without looking up. “This is First Mage Braiden. He will instruct you on what you are carrying and where you will be carrying it to.”
    Even though the conversation appeared to be over, Tenlon felt as if he were in a daze, replaying everything in his mind, seeing again the dead giant’s eyes of black.
    “Boy!” snapped the old mage from behind the wall, bringing him back to reality. “There is much to go over and I don’t tolerate stupidity. Follow quickly now! Come on!”
    The First Mage vanished then. Tenlon paused, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. After a moment he quickly moved to the far wall and slipped behind it.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
     
     
     
    Kreiden moved away from the king’s tent beneath a black sky. Lightning stabbed through thick clouds and his heart was heavy as he made his way toward the message tent at the far end of the camp. The image of the king floated across his mind. That he was loyal to Healianos, there was no doubt. Kreiden wasn’t troubled by what the king had asked of him. He would gladly offer his life for cause and country. It was the thought of what he had to leave behind that distressed him.
    He loved Talia and his years with her had been a joy. But there was always a battle to be fought or a nation to march against. He was a man of war, ill-suited to married life, yet she loved him anyway.
    Natalia was wildly intelligent and wondrously beautiful, and she possessed a deep strength that was a rare quality, not only in women but in anyone. When last they were together, he had promised to return, for his skill in combat was great and he’d always come home before.
    Kreiden knew now that it was a