Firehurler (Twinborn Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

face as clearly
as his gifted hands could ever have managed.
    “At the last meeting of the guild, when I found out
about my new station, I remembered to recommend you,” Davin said. “I had some
of your work along with me for them to review, and I had to somewhat sheepishly
confess to my own dereliction in not presenting your case sooner. Needless to
say …” Davin reached over and gave Kyrus’s medallion a meaningful flick. “…
they were impressed. Oh, to be sure, there were a few who thought that despite
your talent, you should progress through the ranks the same way everyone else
has to, but these are difficult times. The Typesetters Guild is gaining
prominence as they refine those blasted machines that make a mockery of our
art. We cannot let a brilliant scribe languish as a journeyman when his works
should be heralded as those of a true expert. Now enough of all this seriousness.
Let us celebrate!”
    Davin picked up his mug of ale, and the other guests
did likewise, raising their voices in toasts of congratulation for Davin and
Kyrus both. Another mug found its way into Kyrus’s hand, and he lifted it along
with the others. Few among the guests were hard drinkers, and the night’s
revelry was fairly brief. Kyrus, who rarely drank anything more potent than
wine, was the first to pass out.

Chapter
3 - After the Bloodless Night
    By dawn, most of the men were emotionally spent. With
the long night finally past, the threat of the goblin attack seemed to
diminish. It was almost as if, believing the goblins would attack at night, the
threat seemed over with the arrival of the morning sun. Few of them had slept
much during the night, between the added watches and chain armor pressing down
on their chests like the heavy hand of waiting death.
    The cheer of morning seemed to banish such dark
thoughts. The singing of morning birds and the rosy cheer of the day’s first
rays of sunlight seemed at odds with the thought of death lurking out among the
trees. There was some talk that perhaps the goblins had thought better of their
attack, and silently withdrawn back from wherever they had come. Some believed
what they were saying; others just needed to hear some words of confidence to
assuage their uncertainty and nervousness. Brannis did not like it.
    Let the men say what they would, but Brannis had the
nagging feeling that the goblins were scheming something. They would not
have delayed their attack just to cost our men a night’s sleep, would they?
Perhaps …
    There had been no hunting the previous night, so the
morning meal was to be nothing but cured meat strips and water—hardly an
appetizing prospect. Brannis made his way over to claim his dawn feast from the
army’s stores and ran into Iridan, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, appearing a
bit wobbly on his feet.
    “Fair morning, what say?” asked Brannis with a smile.
    Brannis had managed a restful sleep despite the
circumstances and felt refreshed. His dreams had been growing more vivid of
late and he seemed to sleep the deeper for it, not awakening throughout the
night as so many of the other knights had.
    Strange to have such vivid dreams about such mundane
drivel. What about copying texts for stodgy old men should be so worth
remembering? Am I trying to tell myself I would be best off retiring and taking
up a trade? The thought amused
Brannis. He had never used to remember what he dreamed at night and wished it
was not always the same bland stuff. Why not fair lasses and glorious
battles some night?
    “I would not know; it is still last night for me,”
Iridan said. “I never thought I would envy anyone a night’s sleep in full
armor. Guess I was wrong on that count. Hey, when can we call off the goblin
watch and let me get some sleep?”
    “I will have some patrols search the surrounding area
for signs of the goblins. I do not think they can hide from us in daylight in
any threatening numbers. If the patrols do not turn anything up, well, I guess
we will