Destiny Read Online Free PDF

experienced High Priest once again was that arresting gleam in his Mistress’ jet-black eyes, which could only mean one thing: blood and power.
    “Isuzeni, bring him to me,” the Dark Lady ordered in her firm, velvet voice.
    “Yes, my Lady,” the High Priest replied. He snapped his fingers towards the entrance of the tent.
    A few moments later Narmos entered, carrying his conjuring axe in one hand and the skull of necromancy in the other. He was followed by two enormous Moyuki, between them dragging the semi-conscious King: Dasleo of Erenal.
    “So this is the great King Dasleo, patron of the arts, great benefactor of the Order of Knowledge. Wake him up!” ordered the Dark Lady.
    One of the Moyuki grabbed a pail of water from one of the servants and emptied it over the King. Dasleo came to his senses amid moans of pain. The two Moyuki raised him by his arms and the King remained hanging like a puppet. Isuzeni stared at him. This was a broken man, both in body and in spirit.
    “Did you ever believe, insignificant worm, that you could stand before me? Me?” the Empress accused him. The fury in her voice was unmistakable.
    King Dasleo tried to speak.
    “I… I had… no choice…”
    “How do you dare say such a thing? Did my heralds not deliver my proposal?”
    “I couldn’t… surrender the city… you’d have killed us all…”
    “You’ll never know that, you miserable little king of the mid-east. What I do want you to know before I finish with you is that by refusing you’ve condemned all your people, all your kin, to die. Your city is burning, there’s nobody left alive from your royal household, and your kingdom is nothing more than a memory.”
    “No… no… my family…” stammered the king between sobs.
    “Yes, I killed them all, your wife and your two sons, and let me assure you, they suffered. That’s the price to pay for those who dare to oppose me. You’ve delayed me four weeks, and time is something I don’t have now. For that I’ll make you pay for your impertinence in true agony. Nobody opposes my designs! Nobody!”
    The Dark Lady drew her red steel sword and taking a step toward Dasleo, made a sweeping stroke. Isuzeni watched the defeated king’s face. His eyes opened in a mixture of surprise and pain, his stomach split open and the man’s entrails spilled out onto the floor.
    “Pick them up and show them to him!” ordered the Dark Lady.
    The Moyuki did so.
    “Look upon them, proud King, they’re the last thing you’ll ever see.”
    Dasleo, his face distorted, looked at his guts and died amid convulsions, trying to mutter something unintelligible.
    “Take him away from my presence,” the Empress said disdainfully.
    Isuzeni watched the proud King of Erenal being carried out. In fact, he had stood up to the Empress’s troops and done it extraordinarily well. Undoubtedly he was a master of strategy, with a truly sublime knowledge of the art of war. But alas for him, the armies under Isuzeni outnumbered his by five to one, and the arcane arts of his acolytes had helped to sway the fight. Even so, Dasleo had caused great losses, and what was even worse, had delayed the advance of the main section of the army. This had infuriated the Dark Lady.
    “And the other false monarch?” demanded the Empress.
    Isuzeni glanced at Narmos and nodded. His acolyte left the tent, to return a moment later, followed by a Moyuki carrying something covered with a cloth in his hands. Isuzeni stepped toward the Moyuki and pulled aside the cloth, revealing the head of Caron, King of Zangria.
    “Just as you requested, my Lady: the head of the King of the Zangrians on a silver platter.”
    “Hah!” Yuzumi exclaimed, in what Isuzeni took to be laughter. “You’ve made my day, High Priest. I didn’t expect you to carry out my wishes so literally.”
    “I live to please you, my Lady.”
    “And today you have indeed pleased me. That fiend had the audacity to kill my heralds. I hope there’s nothing