Reckoning (The Empyrean Chronicle) Read Online Free PDF

offered a splash of color—scarlet velvet, silk
lined and glossy, the reflection of lantern light danced across its surface.
    Danica had no intention of interrupting her story to acknowledge
Cormik and favored him only with a cursory glance and a slight narrowing of her
eyes. Cormik’s lips curled upward in a cold parody of a smile as he turned his
attention to Elias. He placed a hand casually on his rapier.
    “Well met, Elias. My father tells me you are entering the
fencing competition.”
    “No, Cormik. I’m afraid you were misinformed.”
    “That’s a shame. Considering your father’s reputation with a
blade, I figured you would be the only one to offer a decent challenge.”
    “Sorry to disappoint.”
    “No matter. With this,” Cormik said as he drew his rapier,
“I’d have an edge over even the great Padraic Duana himself. Forged of Kveshian
steel it is one of a kind, the work of a master.”
    “You can’t use an edged blade in the fencing contest,” said
an incredulous Asa.
    “Of course not,” said Cormik, with an exaggerated roll of
his eyes. “I have a thin leather fencing sheaf which fits over the blade,
rendering it as harmless as a practice foil. It is designed so that one can
train with a blade of quality. I have already cleared it with the referee, your
father as it were.”
    “Yes,” Asa said, clenching her jaw, “I am aware.”
    “I asked the good mayor,” Cormik said coyly, “if as a prize
he would reward the victor with a kiss from comely Asa, but sadly he declined.”
    Elias felt Asa stiffen at his side, but, remembering his
father’s admonishment, he refused to rise to Cormik’s bait. “Well, Cormik, I
wish you the best of luck.” He turned away, hoping that Cormik would leave them
in peace.
    “That’s mighty neighborly of you. Speaking of which, my old
man told me that your father’s giving some thought to selling us the
distillery. Likely it’s best for all. Your pa can retire and with your share of
the coin in addition with the no doubt substantial dowry you will receive from
marrying Asa you would be able to buy yourself a nice house, or small farm of
your own.”
    Cormik knew as well as his father, that the Duanas would
never sell, and while his attempt to get a rise out of Elias was transparent,
it irked him nonetheless. “Dowries are an outdated tradition, and I will have
no part in it,” Elias said as mildly as he could, choosing to skirt the larger
issue. He felt silence drop over the crowd as Danica abruptly stopped her
story.
    “Be that as it may—” Cormik said.
    “We will never—and I mean never—sell to your greedy, fat,
poor-excuse-of-a-man, father,” Danica said, her words spoken forcefully and
slow and laced with venom. “And my brother could humiliate you in the fencing
circle.”
    Cormik stiffened and his nostrils flared as he inhaled a
sharp breath. “You hear that folks,” he said, raising his voice so as to be
heard by the score of bystanders, “Elias has challenged me to a duel. I’ll see
you in a quarter of an hour, Duana, providing you don’t follow in your father’s
footsteps and give up the sword so that it may be taken up by better men.” Cormik
turned on his heels, flourished his cloak, and strode away.
    Elias seethed. His anger distributed itself equally between
Cormik and his sister. He fastened his black eyes on Danica. “I was trying to
ignore his taunts and be the better man, but now you have forced my hand.”
    Cowed, she bowed her head. “Elias, I’m sorry...I just can’t
bite my tongue around that pompous fool.”
    Elias sighed and said, not unkindly, “Since when could you
bite your tongue around anyone?”
    Danica smiled ruefully and Elias found himself returning the
gesture—he could never stay mad at Danica for long. “Besides,” she said, “you
don’t have to fight him. No one will think less of you if you don’t enter the
contest.”
    “Hell, Elias, you can best him, Kveshian steel or not,” Lar
said.