Free The Tomb of the Dark Paladin by Tom Bielawski

travel in packs, like true wolves."
    "How do we kill them?" asked Carym.
    "Magical fire will harm them, from what I've read. Perhaps it will kill them, perhaps not."
    "My flames did seem to slow them down," agreed Carym. "It seemed to be the only thing."
    "The only other thing that could help, would be weapons made from silveryl."
    "Thank you, Bishop. It has been an honor," Carym said and bowed. Genn wore an expression of displeasure. "We will go immediately."
    Bishop Rohan embraced Carym warmly. Then he moved to embrace Gennevera, but the woman moved away from him. 
    "Very well, Carym and Gennevera. Go with Zuhr's blessing. May his strength be your strength, may his speed be your speed!"
    "And you as well, Bishop. Where will you go?"
    "Alfheym," he said simply, his eyes alight with pride.
    "Alfheym," Carym repeated in amazement. "The Crimson Elves will take you in?"
    "I do not yet know what reception we will face, but Zuhr has shown me that this is what I must do. There is another legion of the Hand in the north that we will meet in Alfheym."
    "They will help you," Carym said confidently. "They must."
    The bishop didn't seemed inclined to discuss the matter and simply nodded. Horses had been brought up for them, stamping their feet in the cold air, anxious; as though they knew they were about to embark upon a journey. 
    Carym knew Gennevera was upset, angry beyond words but he did not truly understand why. He found himself angry with her for it. She had been through a lot and had become devoted to her new faith and her new Sisters in Zuhr. She spent many hours in grueling martial training and had precious little time to spend with him; and he with her. She seemed to take this as a personal affront, as though the bishop were punishing them somehow. She was being irrational. What other choice did the bishop have?
    He shook his head ruefully, trying to understand the female mind. He put his hand on Genn's shoulder but she only turned away. Her raven tresses were somehow glowing, even though the sun had long set and the moon was hidden behind gray clouds. Carym sighed, exasperated.
    "Carym," said the bishop nodding to the middle of the courtyard. "Sir Ederick's horse."
    Carym walked to the noble horse and patted him on the neck. "Where did your master go?"
    The open flab on the knight's saddlebag caught Carym's attention. He peered inside and saw a black box with the Hurkromin logo on it. Rohan was at his side and he handed the box to the bishop.
    "What is it, Bishop?"
    "You had best leave this with me, Carym." The bishop solemnly closed the lid. "It is the cursed gold of Hurkromin!"

C H A P T E R
    F O U R

    ~
    Cannath, puppet-ruler of Hybrand, looked out from his chambers in the rooftop tower of Castle Hybrand. The sea was frothing today and a harsh wind blew in his face, mirroring the bitter remorse that had become his life. He was drunk, again. After the coronation by Umber's high priest things in Hybrand had deteriorated. Rapidly. His army had been disbanded and his men forced into service in the Hurkin Horde. "The Horde," he growled bitterly. He might have tolerated such a thing better had the men been sent to the front in Nashia or elsewhere. For any human to be pressed into service of the Horde was a death sentence. They were little more than slaves to their hurkin masters and often used as battle fodder alongside bumbling oroks to save the skins of their masters. It was terrible. Those of his men, and those men who served the Arnathian army, gallantly fought to the death. The city seemed empty now. Even the deceased Craxis and his Arnathian troops stood silently in an empty warehouse by the pier. Coronus was forced to house his dead troops there to keep the gulls and carrion eaters from ruining his soldiers.
    Cannath pulled hard on his bottle of whiskey and slammed it down on the sill, breathing hard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and noticed, not for the first time, that his stubble had grown into a