Die for the Flame Read Online Free PDF Page A

pulled the blanket over his head.
    “Here, let me help you,” said Lillan, grabbing Clarian’s cot and turning it over, dumping Clarian onto the cold, stone floor. She took a pitcher of water from the nightstand and dumped it over his head. By now he was awake and angry and trying to sit up.
    Lillan turned to a large soldier who stood behind her, grinning, and said, “Get him ready and bring him up to Rokkman’s office as soon as possible.”
    “Certainly,” said the soldier, trying to hold back his laughter.
     
    The stone stairs were wide and gray and worn with little depressions where many feet had trod over the years. Clarian followed the soldier up, level after level, and down dimly lit corridors until the man finally stopped outside a large wooden door.
    “Wait,” he said to Clarian. He entered and shut the door behind him.
    Clarian was starting to feel a bit better. The water dashed in the face had infuriated him, but it had shocked him awake. He had washed the dust of the journey off and changed into clean clothes from his saddlebags. A spare breakfast of bread and a cup of milk had been provided. His body was stiff after the hurried journey, but he tried to ignore the discomfort and managed the hike up the endless stairs and down the shadowed hallways behind the young soldier. He wasn’t going to show any weakness to Lillan or Rokkman, especially Rokkman, who, after all, was not a young man but could ride with the best of them.
    “Go in,” said the soldier as he opened the door wide for Clarian.
    The room was large, with a window in one wall, a fireplace filled with burning logs, a wall of books, several chairs, and a large desk to one side. Rokkman was standing by the fire. “Come in, Clarian,” he said, pointing to a chair. “Sit down.” Rokkman peered intently at Clarian.
    “In a moment, I will take you to see Norrodan, the Flamekeeper,” he continued. “He knows we have arrived, and he is anxious to see you. You must bow before the Flamekeeper. He is a holy man. Treat him with great respect. He is the leader of our people. I cannot tell you what to say. I do not know what you will be asked to do. But be assured, the Flamekeeper will have an assignment for you. As I explained back on the frontier, all of us are in desperate danger from the Maggan. You, me, your dear mother, we all face this grim situation. Think of what your father would have done were he in your shoes. Is any request too great on this dark day?”
    “But I have no idea what I will be asked,” said Clarian. “And I don’t know what I could do to help. I will be a soldier if that is what he asks. Beyond that, what could he ask? What more could I do?”
    A man in a blue robe appeared at the door and nodded to Rokkman.
    “It is time to go.” Rokkman led Clarian from the room and down a corridor and then up a flight of stairs, stopping at a wooden door that had emblazoned on it a symbol of a flame. Rokkman knocked.
    The door opened, and a small, sharp-featured man showed them into a room much like Rokkman’s office. Clarian studied the old man and then glanced sideways at Rokkman as if to ask, “Is this the Flamekeeper?”
    “He’s not the Flamekeeper. He’s the Flamekeeper’s assistant,” said Rokkman.
    “Ha, ha, ha! You thought I was the Flamekeeper! That’s a good one!” the old man said, laughing.
    “Thank you, Dellan,” said Rokkman, grinning.
    “I’ll go see if he wants to see you now,” Dellan said with a chuckle.
    Dellan crossed the room to a door with the violet flame painted on it. He came back quickly and motioned to both Rokkman and Clarian.
    “He’ll see you both.” Dellan led Rokkman, with Clarian following, into a great room, where they saw a blazing fireplace; several chairs by the hearth; tapestries on the walls; rich carpets on the stone floors; books lining the walls and piled on several tables; a huge desk near the fire; and over the fireplace, a tapestry showing a white flame in the center