Free Rythe Falls by Craig R. Saunders

wounds better than many, see into the distance...granted by his god. Each of his brothers held their own talents. Mostly, their tenacity as warriors...it was possible that his brother paladins were the greatest swordsmen of this age.
                  j'ark had been the finest among them, but he was gone. Brother Unthor, too...dead. And now, distant and alone, Yuthran and Briskle's death-knell came to him from such a remove that he could not even understand the manner of their deaths.
                  They were diminished and soon would be lessened yet again, for Drun Sard, the Watcher of the Order of Sard, was dying.
                  When Drun's power returned to him, the room fell back to the darkness of the night. But the dark was fine. Drun Sard was not concerned about the darkness, knowing that in the dark his god watched over Lianthre instead of this continent.
                  It was the coming battle that concerned the old priest.
                  He wasn't worried about Renir, not overly - the man was tougher than the sum of his parts. But Renir should be free to roam and live, and the Sard should not be lords of this castle, like foreign invaders. They were all free men, and a free people. Caeus was not evil...but stubborn. Ill-mannered, sometimes, perhaps, but a force for light. In a strange way, Drun even liked the creature he'd once known as the Red Wizard. But on certain things, Caeus was intractable. Renir's safety was one of those things.
                  I need to do this right , thought Drun.
                  Caeus would need to be spoken to...and the wizard would not like what Drun would say. Of that, he was sure.
                  Renir is no puppet.
                  As much as Drun Sard liked Caeus as a force for good...he liked and respected Renir Esyn more than most men or women he'd met in his long life. Long hair, long beard and a failing body. He'd met many, many people in his life, and Renir Esyn was one of the finest.               Brave and bold despite being a decidedly ordinary man when their business had begun, he'd proven time and again to be a good man, a staunch ally, and a true friend. He should not be treated like some trinket of a king to be tucked away and used at the appointed time.
                  'If he's to be king, then let him be a man, too,' grumble Drun to himself in the darkness.
                  He really didn't want to speak to the Red Wizard. He knew that on this subject, more than any other, Caeus would be...difficult. But Drun had never shirked a duty in his life, and he wasn't about to start. With a grunt, Drun pushed himself from his seat upon the cold stone floor and stood. Even such little effort now made his lungs burn. For a second, he stood, swaying, desperate to cough but forcing his body to remain calm and still. It would not do to go before Caeus with blood on his robe.
                  Finally, after some minutes, Drun felt up to walking. Didn't want to, his lungs hurt him. His back, right round his ribs, felt like they were being crushed, or squeezed damned hard at the very least.
                  But he'd never shirked anything. The priest set off slowly toward Caeus' quarters with a long face about him.
     
    *
     
    The walk, through the dark corridors of Naeth Castle, up only a single flight of narrow, curving stairs set within one rounded tower, nearly laid Drun on the cold stone floor more than once. Those times he felt like he was spinning, ready to fall. When he did, he put a hand on a wall, rested a while. He was desperate to cough, to breathe deeply, but he knew to take a full breath would set him coughing. If he started, this time, he might not stop.
                  He composed himself in the corridor, beside a slot in the wall, taking the chill air and letting the air flood his burning