Free The Sheening Of The Blades (Book 1) by Kari Cordis Page A

Truth and you do with it what ye will.”  The acolytes swirled though one more time just as he opened his mouth, distributing heavy skins thick with silky fur.  The temperature had already dropped rather dramatically, summer evening notwithstanding.
    Galeb settled the beautifully tanned pelt over his knees and began, “The Battle of Montmorency was the culmination of all the dark, endless centuries of the Ages of War.  Since Raemon had turned his face to evil, the thousands of years that had passed had been spent trying to stem the tide of Tarq, swarming from their desert hole like ants over a carcass.  With the power of Raemon behind them, they were a formidable, insatiable, tireless foe, literally unstoppable.  They gained on us, by the will of Il, through all the long, bloody centuries.  It was the last stand, there at Clarmorency, north of the Kendrick by several leagues and just west of Ramshead.  All the Realms had warriors there, for in those days we all gave our lives equally to defend any border, and this battle had been in the gathering almost twenty years.  The Tarq had poured in from the Kendrick’s mouth, but it was their discovery of a way around Ramshead that allowed them to sweep down from the north in such droves that they vastly outnumbered the gathered Realms.  All that could be mustered were there, and word has come down of the great despair of that day.  The high ground had been thought to be the last refuge, and to see it taken, aswarm with the foe, to see Raemon walking down, long-strided and vicious and proud in front of his unbeatable army…well, it was a dark hour.”
    His voice had gone quiet, respectful, like he was discussing a family member that had passed on.  Ari caught Loren ’s eye, just a gleam now in the fast-fading light.  They’d grown up on stories of Montmorency, played at Enemy and Hero since they were old enough to whack each other with sticks…but neither had ever heard this version.  When gods walked among men…
    “ But Il’s ways are not ours, and often He brings us to darkness before we can see light.  And so it was that day.  When Raemon strode, uncontested, to the middle of the Battlefield, he gave a great laugh and cried out in his overloud voice:
    “ Now, Realms, kneel to me and I will spare you utter destruction.  Or, if you wish, keep fighting—” flippancy and casual cruelty were ever his way “—and I will repopulate your lands with real men.  In fact, that will save me the trouble of chasing down your pitiful survivors!”
    “ And in all that great, silent, grim theatre there was no answer for him…save one.  Clear and pure as the great clarion bell at Merrane it was, and it belonged to the Empress.  She cried, “Hold, Raemon!  These Realms do not yet belong to you!”  And she strode forth until they two stood alone amongst all that immense host, but yards apart.”
    Galeb was as much a master of storytelling as Banion.  On the entire verandah, not a sound was heard, his audience spellbound.
    “And Raemon smiled a slow smile when he saw her, for she was beautiful beyond the knowledge of men, and long had he desired her.  “I will consider a bargain,” he proposed to her, and his voice was dark with foul meaning.”
    “ You wish a union with me?” she roared and all could hear them, for Raemon used his unwholesome power and the Empress spoke with the power of Il and with His Justice.  “Yield this Battlefield,” she cried, “and take your foul hordes back to the Sheel or you will know such burning bonds as are not even imagined in your furnaces!”
    But Raemon just laughed and leered, and then he began to grow taller, swelling himself until he towered dozens of feet in the air, the Ruby Triele on his chest almost incandescent with power.  Then, still laughing his unholy laugh, he reached out one hand toward the Empress and bent his will to draw her to him, finally, by pure force. ”
    “ A great beam of his foul red light