Free The Sons of Hull by Lindsey Scholl

instructorship south of the Range. His mother had told him about it, assuring him that it was a good way to start in life.
    Telenar could not help but notice his disappointment. “Listen, I happen to know that one of the king’s advisors needs an acolyte. It’s only a run-and-carry job, but it will keep you at court, if that’s what you want.”
    The boy brightened immediately. “Really? Oh, that would be wonderful, Patronius . But I don’t want to be any trouble.”
    “Nonsense.” He stood and rounded his desk. Opening the door, he called for a servant.
    “Kerprack, take this young man to Advisor Naffinar’s chambers. The Councilor is not due back yet, I believe, but see that Owahn is boarded and prepared as an acolyte for his return.”
    “Of course, Patronius . ”
    Telenar turned to his candidate and smiled. “See? Naffinar’s a friend of mine. Drop me a message sometime and let me know how he treats you.”
    Owahn was still thanking him as Kerprack directed the boy down the corridor into the Advisor’s block, and Telenar smiled graciously until they disappeared. Once out of eyesight, however, he leaned wearily against the door-jamb. If time was short before, it was almost nonexistent now. The chosen one would have to show up on his doorstep within the next week for them to have time to prepare for the Dedication. Less than one cycle—that was all that was left. Surely, Zyreio’s Advocate had been discovered and was in full training by now. Of course he was! The Ages were very definite about this: one brother was seven cycles the elder. Not the fairest of arrangements, but who can question Kynell? Indeed, Telenar already had a suspicion of the Obsidian servant’s identity. That boy Corfe had been sent by him, of this he was certain. The presence of evil had stuck to the young candidate like a disease. As soon as he had entered, Telenar could sense it. Compassion for the pawn had overwhelmed him, but so had fear. If the enemy was so operational as to send a decoy, how could Telenar and Kynell’s young Advocate hope to defeat him?
    He heard his name called. It was the king’s man, Chiyo.
    “Telenar! I’m so glad I could find you.”
    Telenar was genuinely relieved to see the tall, lithe soldier. Chiyo was not native to Keroul. He had come from a land far west to serve what he styled “the only nobility in Rhyvelad.” His loyalty was as unswerving as his manners and Telenar had soon found in him an understanding friend and confidante. Yet for all his poise, Chiyo was a fearsome warrior and had soaked his blade in a fair share of Cylini blood.
    The man’s pale, delicate features assumed an air of concern as he neared the priest. He stopped and crossed his arms. “You do not look so well.”
    Telenar slouched. He could be honest with his friend. “Time is running out, Chiyo. I still haven’t found him.”
    “Ah. You mean he hasn’t found you.”
    “Whichever way, we haven’t connected. The Dedication is next breach season at the latest. It could even be in late autore. That gives me less than a cycle to find him, train him, and locate the site. Zyreio’s Advocate is already active. And all the king cares about are those blighted Cylini! Doesn’t he care about the next ten thousand score? If Zyreio wins, the next five hundred and forty cycles will be seasons of despair and war, with nothing to stop it.” He paused for a breath, then added quietly. “I’m beginning to think that all he cares about is war.”
    Although Telenar spoke of his livelihood, Chiyo took no offense. The people of the West were known for their stoic manners. “War is an increasingly necessary evil, my friend. The king knows that. Perhaps that is all he cares to know at the moment. But come,” he insisted, brightening. “The very same man wishes to see you on the East Wall. He asked that I come and fetch you.”
    “You’re a good man, Chiyo,” the priest responded, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “The king