Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) Read Online Free PDF

the quick panting of fear, and solid blades taking life from endless practice drills, moving quicker than thought, sliding along each other to break through guard and into flesh. Maybe he was old, and old-fashioned to boot, but he preferred to have a solid piece of metal in his hand and not some stick. And among those fighting at his back, a certain number of scars was not a bad thing.
    He realized he'd stopped killing the dummy in front of him. His sword was lowered, its tip hovering just above the floor. He looked over at the huddle of men and women who had stopped their sparring to joke around— a shove here, a nudge there. It occurred to him that Varien, whatever his scheming— and Ehren was certain there was more to it than Varien claimed— was right in one thing: Ehren didn't seem to belong here anymore.
    He closed his hand over the ring, the emerald set in vines, that barely fit over the small finger on his left hand. For reasons of his own, Varien seemed certain Dannel and his family lived over the border, in the steep ridges of the Lorakan mountains that hugged both Solvany and Therand. A long journey from Kurtane, and a place filled with old magics.
    Not anywhere Ehren wanted to be. But as his visit to Rodar earlier in the day had proven, he didn't have much choice in the matter— not if he wanted a chance to come back and continue the search for Benlan's killer that was, as far as he was concerned, still priority.
    Rodar had been in his semi-formal receiving room, making a seamstress' life Hell by gesturing freely while she tried to fit the sleeves of the colorful shirt he wore. The person on the receiving end of the gestures was a First Level minister, and not one who held Ehren in any favor. Halden, First Level Minister of Diplomacy . Ehren had disrupted more than one of his functions, implacably unmoved by Halden's protests when Ehren spotted something— or someone— he felt posed a threat to Benlan.
    Halden had glanced away from Rodar just long enough to give Ehren a cold look and a nod, though Rodar had greeted Ehren cheerfully enough. "Ehren! It's about time you paid a visit to your king, instead of skulking up and down the coast."
    Ehren held his tongue on the reminder of the reason he'd been skulking along the coast; Rodar was sincere enough in his grief for his father, but had been very good at pushing it to the back of his mind. Instead he said, "It'll be the last visit for some time, unless your majesty intervenes."
    Rodar frowned. His face was long and narrow, and the fuzz-short hairstyle he'd adopted did nothing for his features. He flapped an arm in protest— and to judge by the seamstress's alarm, narrowly avoided the stick of the needle. "What do you mean? I was counting on you to stand with me for the fete next week. Halden's managed to gather all the First and Second Level families together— no simple task, ey, Halden?"
    Halden turned a poisonous gaze on Ehren. "Indeed, quite a difficult one, requiring considerable persistence. But the effort is well worth it, to celebrate the start of your second year of rule."
    "Exactly. It's an important occasion, and I want Ehren there." Rodar's jaw set, but it only served to make him look slightly petulant instead of determined. For once his arms were still, his fists resting at his waist, but the seamstress had paused in her efforts to look at Ehren with an uncertain expression, curiosity peeking out.
    "Varien has other plans for me," Ehren said. He'd come straight from his discussion with the wizard, fully aware that he was armed in a way allowed only to the King's Guard in the king's presence. He rested his palm over the cold, smooth curve of his sword hilt; Halden's face tightened as he looked away. Ehren said, "Yours is the final say in this matter, Rodar. The Guard is yours."
    Halden shot him a quick look of anger, and suggested, "I'm sure Varien has good reason to request Ehren's services, Your Majesty."
    "What could be more important than