Path of the Sun: A Novel of Dhulyn and Parno Read Online Free PDF Page B

indeed.
    “We’ve just had a quiet sea voyage across the Long Ocean—that wasn’t rest enough for you?”
    Dhulyn was silent a long moment. “So much happened on the far side of the ocean.” She laid her fingers on his wrist, as if she needed to touch him to speak of it. “I’m not sure that the few weeks we spent with the Nomads and the Crayx returning to Boravia has given us enough time to fully digest it.”
    Parno stroked the back of her hand with his own fingertips. “You haven’t been worrying at this, have you? We were tested,” he acknowledged. “Our Partnership, even our Brotherhood. We have come out of it stronger, as steel leaves the forge.”
    “And we have learned things about ourselves we did not previously know,” Dhulyn said. “What does your Pod sense tell you? Can you feel any of the Crayx nearby?”
    Parno closed his eyes and reached out with his inner sense in the way he’d been taught.
    #Greeting# #Enjoyment#
    He smiled. “They’re just going through the Straits, planning to stop at Navra to pick up some jeresh.”
    “Not for Dar, I hope. She shouldn’t be drinking until the babes come.”
    “No,” Parno said, letting the link fade. “Just for trade.”
    “Still, in some things, we’re left with more questions than answers,” Dhulyn said.
    “There’s one answer we can always count on,” he said, touching his fingers to his forehead. “In Battle.”
    “And in Death,” she said, a smile in her voice.
    Parno pushed himself upright. “Toss you for the post by the door,” he said. “Maybe you used up all your luck winning Kari’s gloves.”
     
    Dhulyn began her patrol on the starboard side of the deck, her bare feet soundless, one hand out for balance and the fingers of the other resting lightly on her sword hilt. As her eyes scanned for movements in the shadows, her mind returned to worry at the possibility that in Menoin they would find another Pasillon. This was not the first time she and Parno had brushed up against the legend. It was not uncommon, even now when their numbers were relatively few, for Mercenary Brothers to fight on opposite sides of a battle. In fact, to be killed by a Brother was widely considered the best way to die. More than thirty Mercenaries had been killed at the ancient battle of Pasillon when the victorious, maddened by their triumph, forgot that their contracts required them to spare any Mercenaries who had fought on the losing side. When they had seen what was happening, the Brothers from both sides united, holding off much greater numbers until, at nightfall, they could cover the escape of three of their own.
    Those three had carried the word, and after that night, the leaders of the victorious army had learned exactly how costly their victory had been. Since that day, “Pasillon” had been a rallying cry for Mercenary Brothers everywhere and a reminder that the Brotherhood protected its own.
    Dhulyn was on her third pass around the deck when the soft cry of a night bird made her pause and crouch into a patch of darkness formed by a sail locker. It didn’t take her more than a breath or two to see the dark shadow where it paced along the port rail, slowing every now and again to edge around here a barrel of pitch, there a rack of boarding axes. Dhulyn leaned her head back, brought her hand up to her mouth, and returned the night bird’s cry. The ship had changed not at all since her own Schooling, and Dhulyn already knew exactly where every crew member or apprentice aboard the Black Traveler should be, who had what assignment on this watch, what they looked and smelled like. This was someone else. According to Parno’s signal, one of the Princesses, but which one?
    Dhulyn took a deep breath, released it slowly and, sinking into the Stalking Cat Shora , began to follow. The hunting Shora heightened her senses, making her aware of the slightest noise, the smallest movements, including even the beating of her heart and the flow of her own