Honor's Price Read Online Free PDF

duke personally viewed all of the potential applicants, deciding who would be offered a position and where each recruit should be assigned. From the rumors that flowed like water up and down the line, the majority of the hires were being assigned to the regular troops. Recently, several patrols had come under attack, greatly reducing their numbers.
    Kane knew firsthand about one such attack. He and Hob had themselves accounted for a number of those deaths. There’d been at least two more skirmishes since then. Had his friends been involved? He prayed to the goddess that she keep the Damned safe until he was able once again to stand beside them in battle.
    The line shuffled forward again. It should be only a few more minutes before he came face-to-face with the man the Damned were determined to topple from histhrone. It was tempting to take advantage of this unexpected audience to execute the bastard immediately.
    He rejected that idea as soon as he crossed the threshold into the dim interior of the building. Keirthan’s personal guard kept him surrounded, and Kane would have to fight his way through at least two layers of defense to get close to the duke.
    It wasn’t difficult to pick Keirthan out in the crowd. He was the one with an oily cloud of evil clinging to him like a second skin, following his every move. It was not an accident that no one stood within arm’s reach of the man. Even those with little or no sensitivity to magic would be repulsed by the chilly blackness that writhed and swirled around their ruler.
    How many of their countrymen had died to create that abomination? Kane kept his hands away from his weapons, but in his head he imagined the sweet slide of his sword through Keirthan’s flesh, plunging it deep and twisting it hard to make sure the man suffered for his crimes.
    Better yet, Kane wanted to wrest control of that darkness for himself, turn it back on its master, and let it eat its fill of Keirthan’s soul. The image set the mage mark on Kane’s cheek afire, as for the first time in centuries he hungered to wield the kind of magic that was his family heritage.
    Dear Lady, what was he thinking? The last thing he wanted was to touch the blackness that Keirthan had flowing in his veins like poison. He’d seen how that kind of craving for power had warped his own grandfather, turning the man into a coldhearted bastard who sacrificed even his own kin to feed his hunger. If it hadn’t been for the gentle influence of Kane’s mother, he might have very well followed in his grandfather’s path. It had been a hard-fought battle, but he’d walked away from his heritage. Despite his best efforts, the magic still left its mark on him, the one on his face only the most obvious.
    He forced his attention back to the moment at hand,watching closely as Sergeant Markus assessed the group of men just ahead of Kane. Each applicant drew his sword and held it out pommel first. What was Markus looking for?
    The sergeant made his way down the line of eight men. When he’d hefted the last sword in the bunch, he stepped back and gave the men their orders. From the dejected posture of the first two, they’d been turned down. The next five were directed toward a side door, presumably to join the regular troops.
    After they filed out, the duke approached the one remaining applicant. The mercenary started to step back, but then stopped midstep, frozen in an awkward position and clearly not in command of his own movements. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his jaw worked hard, as if trying to force words through his clenched teeth.
    The duke smiled and nodded to Markus as he released his hold on the man’s body and mind. Markus waited until the duke stepped back behind the safety of his guards before directing the merc toward a door in the back corner. Obviously, he possessed whatever quality the duke had been hunting for.
    Markus returned to his position. “The