Aegis of The Gods: Book 00 - The Shadowbearer Read Online Free PDF Page A

him enough. “Can they can manage?”
    “If we had a few weeks or if I had more than a thousand Ashishin plus your Alzari, yes, but you want this done in days. Why? It’s not only the lives of these Astocans at stake. There is a possibility I will lose some of my own men as well.”
    “I understand, Pathfinder Kaden.” Stefan stared through the slit of an entrance to his tent and into the night. “A King once said to me, ‘a good commander is one who shows an interest in the plight of his enemy, especially after their defeat. Such an act goes a long way in turning the mind of one’s enemy to seeing more than a simple conqueror.’ ”
    “A wise man. But what of my Ashishin? Essentially, you might be working them to death, and putting your men as well as what’s left of the enemy you’re trying to save at risk at the same time.”
    “Doesn’t your Tribunal proclaim the Shins as servants to all?”
    Kaden regarded him in silence for a moment. “Fair enough.” The Pathfinder tipped his head. “Whatever is the Tribunal’s wish, I am but an extension of their orders.”
    “Good. Now, do you think your Pathfinders will be able to prevent any Shins from losing control?”
    “We can try, but there are no guarantees in this. However, if one of them does succumb, we should be able to stop them before they do any damage.”
    “That will have to do,” Stefan said.
    “Knight Commander?”
    “Yes?”
    “Why did King Nerian summon the Alzari back to Seti?”
    “I’m wondering the same thing myself,” Stefan answered.
    “If something should go wrong tomorrow, Nerian’s decision will be partly to blame.”
    “Then let’s make sure nothing does.”

C HAPTER 3
    I n the shadow of the Sang Reaches, Stefan surveyed what remained of the Astocan encampment. Located in a vale with a tiny pass for an entrance, the expanse of fields had been quite defensible with an easy retreat into the mountains. Too bad the positioning was all for nothing.
    Burned and ripped canvas, broken poles, and ramshackle wagons spread in a haphazard fashion about the ground. Hanging from a tree branch was the corpse of one of the Astocan captains. Below him, another soldier leaned on the trunk, a spear driven through his chest. The acrid pall of smoke hung so thick Stefan covered his mouth to choke down a cough. Brown, tattered brush crowded once verdant fields. Pieces of weapons glinted amongst the trampled grass. Stefan’s men had gathered the majority of the Astocan soldiers and led them off. A few of the remaining officers had managed to flee into the mountains. The ones left behind were incapacitated by their wounds. Some lay on makeshift litters, while others rested on grassy mounds. Moans and groans echoed among them. Many were unmoving and silent—eyes staring sightlessly.
    One Astocan—skin so dark it shone—coughed and attempted to rise to his feet as Stefan approached. Several punctures from what must have been scorpio bolts and a missing arm prevented the soldier from doing much more than getting to his knees. The man clasped a hand to the two thin slits at the side of his neck that always reminded Stefan of a fish’s gills. The matching ones on the other side fluttered open and closed. Red trickled between the Astocan’s fingers, and he crumpled.
    An Ashishin wearing the colors of a Devout priest hurried to his side. She placed a hand on the soldier’s chest. Blood oozed from the wounds and bubbled from the man’s mouth. Head down, the Devout prayed. An answering rattle issued from his lips. He gave a final kick and lay still.
    Robes a brighter red than the dried blood on the ground, Ashishin Matii moved from one man to the next, mending those not too far gone. Soldiers beyond the point of saving were passed on to the Devout. Dressed in white and gold, these higher ranked Ashishin bent to offer prayers for the dead and dying. More often than not, the mortally wounded chose to convert to the Streamean religion the Devout