City of Sorcerers Read Online Free PDF

here." The speaker and a companion, both wearing light summer cloaks of indigo blue, came walking up the path to meet them. Two members of Athlone's hearthguard snapped a salute from their posts by the chief's tent.
    Sayyed and Savaron rose peacefully to their feet. "Greetings, Lord Koshyn,"
    Sayyed said.

    Koshyn of Clan Dangari returned the greeting. "I didn't Want to interrupt your time at home," he said to Athlone, "but I thought you ought to hear something interesting,"
    Stools and more wine were brought out, and the five men sat down under the awning. Lord Koshyn grinned broadly at his old friend. Only a year younger than Athlone, he had been a chieftain for a longer time, though the years had not been as kind. His fair hair was gray and thinning, and the faded pattern of blue dots tattooed on his forehead was almost lost in the weathered brown of his skin. His once athletic body was stockier, slowed by aching joints. But his smile was as infectious as ever.
    Although not a magic-wielder himself, he was one of sorcery's most influential supporters among the chiefs and one of Athlone's closest friends.
    He sat thankfully on his stool, stretching his legs out before him, while Savaron poured some rich honey wine in a flagon and passed it to him. Koshyn sipped his drink and thought, for the thousandth time, how closely Savaron resembled his father.
    They were so much alike, not only in their tall physical build, their brown hair, eyes, and mustaches, but in their characters as well. Savaron even had his father's habit of cocking an eyebrow when he was questioning something. Like now.
    Koshyn, noticing both men were looking at him the same way, couldn't help chuckling. 'Tm sorry," he said between gusts of laughter. "Athlone, as a sire, you certainly have thrown true in your son. By Surgart's sword, you couldn't have done better." He wiped his face with his sleeve and grinned again a bit wistfully, thinking of his own sons, dead before they reached manhood. Athlone, he decided, was a very lucky man.
    Lord Koshyn settled back on his stool and said, "So, I didn't come here to compare you two. I brought someone who has a tale to tell." He turned to the other Dangari beside him. The young man, just out of boyhood, was staring at Lord Athlone with something close to awe. He had never met the sorcerer-chieftain face-to-face, but he had heard all the tales about his deeds. He bowed his head to the Khulinin lord and glanced at his own chief.
    "Go on, lad," Koshyn prompted.
    The young man tugged at his dirty blue tunic. "I rode in the Induran today, Lord,"
    he said. "At least part of it. Unfortunately, I went with your daughter, Rafnir, and Moreg from Clan Wylfling down a box canyon."
    Athlone nodded. He had already heard about that wrong turn.
    "Well, while we were trying to turn around in the canyon, Moreg rode his horse over a big mound. I was the only one who saw the horse fall, so I stopped to help him." He leaned forward, his excitement overcoming his shyness. "Lord Athlone, I've never seen anything like it! His horse stepped through a crust of dirt onto what looks like a roof."
    "A roof?" Sayyed exclaimed.

    The Dangari demonstrated by slightly steepling his hands. "A timbered roof like we use in burial chambers. I think we found an old burial mound."
    Athlone leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his interest piqued. "A burial mound? In a hidden box canyon? How curious!" He paused, mulling over this news.
    "You said Moreg fell. Is he hurt?"
    "He's got a bad headache, but his clan healer said he'll be fine." The Dangari's face saddened as he added, "The horse snapped its leg; we had to kill it."
    Lord Athlone laced his fingers thoughtfully and said to Koshyn, "Are you thinking of riding out there tomorrow?"
    The Dangari chief gave a slow smile. "Of course. Late afternoon, after the council meeting. I thought I might bring some strong men and shovels."
    Athlone returned his smile. "I know some others who might be interested