Blood of War Read Online Free PDF Page A

just this past spring, though he had been unsuccessful in tapping that power since.
    But what did any of that matter without his family? He was adrift, without direction, lost.
    He wept.
    * * *
    The knock at his door roused him from a fitful doze. He raised his head from the cradle of his arms and blinked to clear away the cobwebs. His room was gloomy; the sky outside his window was overcast. Yet even so, he was able to estimate that it was late afternoon and he had been asleep for three or four hours. The memories tried to encroach again but he managed to keep them at bay.
    He glanced at the door. “Come in, Gaven.”
    Gaven entered and favored Jurel with a bright grin. “How'd you know it was me?”
    An ex-Soldier of God, Gaven had found it difficult to fit in at the Abbey for the first month. There had been too many suspicions. His skill with a sword and tactical training, along with his upbringing as the son of a minor noble, made him a natural leader and shrewdly, Mikal had enlisted him under his command as a lieutenant. He had thrown himself at his assigned tasks with an eagerness and honesty that had ultimately won over the men under his command. His aristocratic good looks and confident charisma, on the other hand, had made him quite popular with the ladies. Still attired in his leather cuirass and tight fitting breeches, his blond hair swept wildly back, he cut quite a figure. It was a rare evening indeed that Gaven was not seen in the company of one beautiful young lady or other.
    Jurel shrugged. “You knock funny.” Jurel had never thought of it. He always seemed to know who was at his door. He shrugged again uncomfortably.
    “Uh-huh,” Gaven grunted, eyeing him askance. “Anyway, listen, I'm done in the yards for the day. Thought I'd pop in and get you out of your cave here.”
    Jurel smirked. “No young ladies waiting in line for their turn tonight?”
    Gaven laughed. “No, not tonight.” At least he had the good graces to blush.
    “So you figured with nothing better to do, you'd settle for wasting some time with me?” His smirk widened. “That's just selfish, Gav.”
    “Well if you were prettier, then maybe I would spend more time with you.”
    With a laugh and a rueful shake of his head, Jurel rose. “Where to?”
    “I dunno. Let's just go where the wind pushes us.”
    With nothing better to do, Jurel shrugged and followed Gaven out the door.
    The Abbey was a huge place. Not as large as the king's palace in Threimes but certainly larger than the temple, it was a long complex of hallways spread out over several stories. In the southwest wing were the living quarters; hundreds of doors lined the long red stone hallways leading to chambers like Jurel's. The northeast wing was the business end. It was there that audience chambers, shrines, temples, workshops, and the huge library with its endless shelves covered in everything from ancient scrolls to the latest literature could be found. It was also where the Grand Hall was. This majestic hall, adorned with tapestries, frescoes and intricately carved stone trim, was lined end to end with benches. At the head of the hall, the Abbot's chair dominated from its place on a dais. This was where the Salosian council met; this was where the future of the Salosian Order was decided.
    Outside, they made their way through arbors and gardens, past stables where workmen and acolytes busily tended to their affairs, through training yards beyond which the squat barracks housed Mikal's forces, and on to a heavy iron door that led through the thick wall that surrounded the Abbey compound.
    In the course of his tutoring, Andrus had informed Jurel that at one time centuries past, this had been a border fortress, the last major outpost between Threimes (though at that time it was not yet Threimes, but unclaimed wilderness that held strategic significance) and the great empire of Kashya in the south. It had been abandoned as useless and soon forgotten by the kingdom after