Blood's Pride (Shattered Kingdoms) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Evie Manieri
because
you
want to worm your way back into Lady Frea’s trousers.>
said Ingeld, grabbing a pair of clean leggings out of the laundry basket.
Daem leaned back against the wall.
Ingeld vowed as he strapped on his sword: a cheap, newish blade he’d somewhat hilariously named Valour’s Glory.
The Book
give out as the fate for those who die of boredom?> Daem yanked his tabard off over his head even as the others were still dressing.
Rho asked him.
<
I
can’t go. Lady Frea has me assigned to day-patrol> Daem reminded him.
Ingeld insisted.
us – being a Norlander doesn’t mean what it used to mean. I was there at the taking of Thrakya when they brought in mercenary archers –
archers
! The bow is a coward’s weapon. You’ll see, when we go to Onfar to be judged, I bet he counts one kill with a steel blade like ours the same as ten with a black one.>
asked Daem.
Ingeld replied hurriedly.
added Rho.
Ingeld, dressed now, had no answer for that; he and Ongen headed for the doorway, both of them grabbing their white sun-proof cloaks on the way out. Rho leaned against the wall and waited patiently for Daem to put his boots on. Then he noticed that once again Ongen had left his book lying on the table. He took the key from its hiding-place under the chair, unlocked the strongbox in the corner, and tossed the volume in with the rest of their books, papers, pens and ink. By that time, Daem was ready to go.
hear them planning something> he told his friend. He hated himself for letting Ongen worry him, but he couldn’t help it.
Daem’s sympathy was reassuring. He was still carrying the little jar of candied fruit; he took one out and pressed it into Rho’s hand.
take the last one.>
Amused in spite of himself, Rho tucked the dubious gift into his pocket. he said wryly,
Chapter Three
Eofar stood in the middle of his bedroom tipping the little bottle back and forth, watching the red liquid slide from one end to the other. He hadn’t slept. In the darkness of his windowless room, he found it too easy to torment himself with the morbid fantasies he’d built up, layer by layer, over the last five months. Several hours before sunset he’d given up, dressed in the same limp shirt and trousers from the night before and sat back down to berate himself for the fact that after all the elixir had cost him, he lacked the courage to use it.
First he told himself that taking it would be foolhardy – he had no way of knowing what it would do to him. Even if it was harmless to the Shadari, no one could possibly know what effect it might have on a Norlander; it might even poison him. Then he had told himself
you
want to worm your way back into Lady Frea’s trousers.>
Daem leaned back against the wall.
The Book
give out as the fate for those who die of boredom?> Daem yanked his tabard off over his head even as the others were still dressing.
<
I
can’t go. Lady Frea has me assigned to day-patrol> Daem reminded him.
us – being a Norlander doesn’t mean what it used to mean. I was there at the taking of Thrakya when they brought in mercenary archers –
archers
! The bow is a coward’s weapon. You’ll see, when we go to Onfar to be judged, I bet he counts one kill with a steel blade like ours the same as ten with a black one.>
Ingeld replied hurriedly.
Ingeld, dressed now, had no answer for that; he and Ongen headed for the doorway, both of them grabbing their white sun-proof cloaks on the way out. Rho leaned against the wall and waited patiently for Daem to put his boots on. Then he noticed that once again Ongen had left his book lying on the table. He took the key from its hiding-place under the chair, unlocked the strongbox in the corner, and tossed the volume in with the rest of their books, papers, pens and ink. By that time, Daem was ready to go.
hear them planning something> he told his friend. He hated himself for letting Ongen worry him, but he couldn’t help it.
Daem’s sympathy was reassuring.
take the last one.>
Amused in spite of himself, Rho tucked the dubious gift into his pocket.
Chapter Three
Eofar stood in the middle of his bedroom tipping the little bottle back and forth, watching the red liquid slide from one end to the other. He hadn’t slept. In the darkness of his windowless room, he found it too easy to torment himself with the morbid fantasies he’d built up, layer by layer, over the last five months. Several hours before sunset he’d given up, dressed in the same limp shirt and trousers from the night before and sat back down to berate himself for the fact that after all the elixir had cost him, he lacked the courage to use it.
First he told himself that taking it would be foolhardy – he had no way of knowing what it would do to him. Even if it was harmless to the Shadari, no one could possibly know what effect it might have on a Norlander; it might even poison him. Then he had told himself
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