Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

chewed.
    “Mmm.” Bertus swallowed as he shrugged a shoulder. “The battle was… unusual. Kevon and another Mage slung fire at Holten, and he at them. Then… he seemed to turn to living flame, and escaped to another place, one opened by magic. Kevon and the other Mage seemed to think that he may have died there, but sent me to fetch you, should it not be the case.”
    “It is good that we are far from there,” Martin agreed, reaching to hold Alma’s hand. “Though Holten was never one for sentiment, he was practical, and would likely use it against his enemies.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, what’s this about an Orclord?”
----
    The torch lights and skyline of Smara showed against the southwestern horizon as Bertus sat watching the sun sinking behind it. The horses had been stabled hours ago, supper eaten and cleared away. The relaxed pace of the day had helped ease the tension that had been growing in his mind since they’d fled Laston, and given him time to think about how to proceed the next few days. Outsiders in Kron were treated differently than residents; catered to, but charged dearly for it. Smara was the center of that practice, and the most extravagant by far.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Martin asked, walking up behind him.
    “No.” Bertus shook his head. “I’ve seen the sights in Eastport, feasted in the palace in Navlia, roamed the halls of the Dwarven Hold.” He sighed. “Your home was beautiful. I’m sorry you had to leave it, sorry that I was the one to tear you from it.”
    “I’d much rather lose my land than my life,” Martin assured Bertus. “You may have saved us, or given us a fighting chance. That is no cause for sorrow.”
    “He should have sent someone else. Someone older, stronger…”
    Martin laughed. “The Kevon I knew, those years ago, would have looked up to you. From what little you’ve told us of your travels, I can only assume there is much more we’ve not heard.” His face grew somber. “I’ll do whatever you ask, follow wherever you lead, if you will keep my Alma safe.”
    Bertus shrugged. “South, then. Until we have to choose to turn east for Navlia, or continue on to the frontier. The palace will have improved defenses after the last attack, but we’d stand out more there than we would blending into one of the units Carlo is commanding on the edge of the wastelands.”
    “Until we must decide,” Martin agreed. “We should turn in for the evening.”
     

Chapter 9
     
    “Faster,” Alanna whispered, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow visible in flickers from a distant torch.
    Kevon grunted, weary already from the evening’s exertion, but thrust yet again.
    The assassin shifted to the side, dodging the blunted wooden practice knife by the width of two fingers at most. She ducked as her student shifted his weight and slashed to the side, passing through the space where her head had just been. She rolled her neck as she straightened, smiling at the slight pop as the tension eased. A raised knee impacted Kevon’s arm on his reverse slash, stalling his attack. The precise application of force at his wrist and elbow caused him to cast aside the wooden knife, and after a few twists of the captive arm, the Warsmith found himself face-down on the dirt floor, unable to act except for twitching at the pain of the leveraged arm.
    “You want to protect her,” Alanna mocked, pressing herself close upon Kevon’s prone form to whisper in his ear. “You can’t even protect yourself from me.” She squirmed a moment longer, as if to emphasize her complete control of the situation, before releasing Kevon’s arm.
    Alanna rose and let Kevon struggle to a seated position and rub at the pain in his arm. “I was there when Carlo taught you not to fear getting hurt. That’s a start.” She sat on a nearby crate and leaned against the wall. “The less you fear, the easier decisions are to make, in combat, in life.” She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it