Ravens Shadow 02 - Tower Lord Read Online Free PDF

habit.”
    “You will not!” She glared at him. He smiled back. She gritted her teeth and returned the knife to its sheath.
    He placed the bow and quiver of arrows next to her. “Keep it. I’ll make myself another.”
    ◆ ◆ ◆
    The next day saw them walking the road again. Al Sorna’s pace hadn’t slackened at all but she was finding it easier to keep up, no doubt helped by the recent improvement in her diet. They had been going for an hour when Al Sorna came to a halt, his head tilted upwards, nostrils flaring a little. It was a moment before Reva caught it, a scent on the westerly breeze, acrid, corrupt. She had smelt it before, as had he, no doubt on many more occasions.
    He said nothing but left the road, walking towards the forest. It was beginning to thin as they travelled north, but there were still patches of thick woodland in which to camp or hunt. She noted a change in his movements as he approached the trees, a slight curve to the shoulders, a looseness to his arms, fingers splayed as if ready to reach for something. She had seen the priest move in a similar way, but never with such unconscious grace and she realised in a rush that the Darkblade was the priest’s superior, a thing she always thought impossible. No man could best the priest, his skills were born of the Father’s blessing after all. But this heretic, this enemy of the Loved, moved with such predatory grace she knew any contest between them would end only one way.
I was a fool,
she decided.
Trying to take him like that. When the time comes to kill him, I must be more guileful . . . or better trained.
    She followed at a short distance. She still carried the bow and wondered if she should notch an arrow but decided against it, her archery skills were hardly a threat to whatever might await them in the trees. She drew her knife instead, eyes continually seeking movement, finding only the sway of branches in the wind.
    They found the bodies about twenty yards in, three of them, man, woman and child. The man had been lashed to a tree and gagged with a hemp rope, dried blood stained his bare chest from neck to waist. The woman was naked and her flesh bore the marks of prolonged torment, bruises and shallow cuts. One of her fingers had been hacked off, whilst she still breathed judging by the amount of blood. The boy could be no more than ten years in age and was also naked and similarly abused.
    “Outlaws,” Reva said. She peered closer at the man tied to the tree, seeing how the hemp gag gouged into the flesh of his cheeks. “Looks like they made him watch.”
    Al Sorna’s gaze was moving over the scene with an intensity she hadn’t seen before, scanning the ground as he moved, tracking. “This happened at least a day and a half ago,” Reva said. “Any tracks will be stale. They’ll be in the nearest town, drinking and whoring with whatever spoils they got here.”
    He turned a fierce gaze on her. “Your World Father’s love seems to make you cold.”
    His anger made her take a firmer grip on the knife. “This land is thick with thievery and murder, Darkblade. I’ve seen death before. We’ve been lucky not to have drawn any outlaws ourselves.”
    The fierceness in his gaze faded and he straightened, losing the predatory readiness. “Rhansmill is closest.”
    “It’s out of our way.”
    “I know.” He went to the body of the man and used his sailor’s knife to cut the bonds securing him to the tree. “Gather wood,” he told her. “A lot of wood.”
    ◆ ◆ ◆
    It took another day to get to Rhansmill, an unimpressive huddle of houses clustered around a water mill on the banks of the Avern River. They arrived at night, finding the place in the throes of some form of celebration, numerous torches had been lit and the townsfolk thronged around a semicircle of garishly painted wagons.
    “Players,” Reva said with distaste, seeing the frivolous and occasionally lewd depictions on the sides of the wagons. They made their