Arthas: Rise of the Lich King Read Online Free PDF Page A

as—no, more than—his armor or weapons. Horses from good stock such as this one could live twenty years or more if cared for well; this was the mount who would bear Arthas elegantly in ceremony and faithfully on daily rides. He was not a warhorse. Such were a breed apart, used only for specific purposes at specific times. He’d have one when he went into battle. But Invincible would, and indeed already had, become part of his life.
    The stallion’s coat, mane, and tail, gray at his birth, had turned white as the snow that had coated the ground on that day. It was a color that was rare even among the Balnir-bred horses, whose “white” coats were really mostly just light gray. Arthas had toyed with names like “Snowfall” or “Starlight,” but in the end, he followed the informal tradition of Lordaeron knights and gave his steed the name of a quality. Uther’s mount was “Steadfast,” Terenas’s “Courageous.”
    His was “Invincible.”
    Arthas wanted desperately to ride Invincible, but the horsemaster warned that two years old was at least a year too young. “Two’s a baby,” he’d said. “They’re still growing; their bones are still forming. Be patient, Your Highness. Another year isn’t that long to wait for a horse that’ll serve you well for two decades.”
    But it was a long time to wait. Too long. Arthas glanced back over his shoulder at the horse, growing impatient with the plodding canter that seemed the most that Trueheart could summon. In contrast with the elderly gelding, the two-year-old moved almost as if floating, with hardly any effort. His ears were pricked forward, and his nostrils flared as he scented the smells of the glade. His eyes were bright and he seemed to be saying, Come on, Arthas…. It’s what I was born for.
    Surely one ride couldn’t hurt. Just a little canter, and then back to the stables as if nothing had happened.
    He slowed Trueheart to a walk and tied the reins to a low-slung tree branch. Invincible whickered as Arthas walked up to him. The prince grinned at the velvety softness of the muzzle brushing his palm as he fed the horse a piece of apple. Invincible was used to having a saddle; it was part of the slow and patient breaking process, to get the horse accustomed to having something on its back. But an empty saddle was much different from a live human being. Still, he’d spent a lot of time with the animal. Arthas said a short prayer and then quickly, before Invincible could sidestep out of the way, vaulted onto the horse’s back.
    Invincible reared, neighing furiously. Arthas wrapped his hands in the wiry mane and clung like a burr with every inch of his long legs. The horse hopped and bucked, but Arthas held on. He yelped as Invincible tried to scrape him off by running beneath one of the branches, but did not let go.
    And then Invincible was galloping.
    Or rather, he was flying. Or at least so it seemed to the giddy young prince, who crouched low on the horse’s neck and grinned widely. He’d never been on an animal this fast before, and his heart pounded with excitement. He didn’t even try to control Invincible; it was all he could do to simply hang on. It was glorious, wild, beautiful, everything he’d dreamed of. They would—
    Before he even realized what had happened, Arthas was hurtling through the air to land hard on the grassy earth. For a long moment he couldn’t breathe from the impact. Slowly he got to his feet. His body ached, but nothing was broken.
    But Invincible was a rapidly disappearing dot in the distance. Arthas swore violently, kicking a hillock and balling his fists. He was in for it now.

    Sir Uther the Lightbringer was waiting for him upon his return. Arthas grimaced as he slid off Trueheart and handed the reins to a groomsman.
    “Invincible came back a short time ago by himself. He had a nasty cut on his leg, but I’m sure you’ll be glad to know the horsemaster says he’ll be fine.”
    Arthas debated lying, telling