Free The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) by Jerry Autieri Page A

The second day brought more drudgery and no further comment from Thorgis, beyond the minimum necessary. Syrus had grown irritated enough with the boy's reticence to stop referring to him as a lord, and it still elicited nothing more from Thorgis. The High King's sword remained strapped to his back, and Thorgis's own sword was at his hip. The High King's sword seemed to be what weighed on his mind, for he constantly touched it as if to be certain it was still on his back.
    The third day brought them within reach of Tsaldalr. The entrance was at the bottom of a steep shoreline cliff. The city of Raffheim loomed in the distance as a brooding gray square of rock. Too distant to see details, Syrus imagined the warriors patrolling its walls. He also recalled the stories Grimwold and Lethos had shared about its highest tower. He could scarcely believe he looked upon its misty outline as it dominated the entire city.
    "We will pick our way down to the cave entrance," he said. "Once inside, we will have to establish our camp and determine where to go next. The map only shows the entrance, and nothing more. We'll be exploring from here out."
    Prior to this, Syrus wanted to scout the area for hunting potential. They had enough food for a week, then they had to procure their own. Syrus thought Eldegris had been amazingly trusting in his abilities, or he believed his son capable of more than he currently demonstrated. Perhaps he was sending them into certain death, and food was of no concern. That made no sense, yet Syrus knew the High King withheld much more than he shared about this mission.
    By midday, black clouds moved in from nowhere. The forest went silent but for the gentle stirring of branches or the crunch of their feet over dead leaves.
    "A storm is coming," Thorgis said.
    Syrus had a barb ready for this, but swallowed it. Instead he nodded, and they sought high ground. They did so in the silence Syrus had grown accustomed to. A long month stretched out in front of him, and he hoped before that time Thorgis's stony disposition would soften. As they tied their belongings into tree branches, Syrus noted the sky above had turned a strange shade of greenish black. Thunder boomed and a heavy rain opened on them with startling ferocity. They had not even set up a lean-to yet before they were soaked. Thorgis was cursing his way out of his mail coat, the most emotion Syrus had witnessed from him in the entire journey. While well oiled, the iron links were susceptible to rust and a heavy rain like this would destroy mail as efficiently as a cluster of spears.
    They searched for a place out of the wind, but it came in strong gusts from every direction, blasting them with stones, branches, and other forest debris. Syrus had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Beyond the thunder and hissing rain there was a constant rumble like stones falling down a mountain. He heard trunks cracking and the trees surrounding them bent in the wind. The wind shoved them through the forest.
    "The Finger of Urdis," Syrus said. His voice was lost in the howl. Thorgis stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. Through the trees, a black cloud plowed through the forest and tore up both trunks and earth.
    They both broke into a run at the same time. Once a decade, the evil god Urdis took revenge on the land for his banishment from the company of the gods. He raked a finger across the world in the shape of a swirling wind of chaos, tossing ancient trees into the air and throwing even the largest ships from harbors onto the roofs of halls.
    No man could outrun the god's finger if it decided to seek you. Within the forest, trees snapped flat and the air grew full of projectiles. His skin already burned with cuts and bruises from flying rocks and branches. He could hear nothing but the deafening roar of wind, and see little beyond the cloud of leaves and dirt surrounding him. Thorgis had disappeared from sight.
    Syrus hurtled away in blind terror, repeating Fieyar's