Red Sky at Dawn Read Online Free PDF

make sure the straps were tied. As he neared a group of three, the dark fear flared up, this time showing an image of Crushaw with a blade at his throat, and Roskin turned and sprinted as hard as his back – still sore from the lashing he had received for escaping – would allow. He drew his dagger as he neared where the general slept and prepared for whatever enemy he might find.
    When Roskin reached his friend, he found him wide awake and alert, without a hint of trouble. Still, for nearly half an hour he searched the area for any sign of danger, but nothing was awry. For the first time, the rush of fear had given an image not connected to reality. Finally satisfied all was well, he gave up his search and returned to Crushaw.
    “What was that?” the old man asked.
    Roskin, exhausted and pale, shrugged and sat at the edge of the wagon’s bed.
    “Couldn’t sleep?” Crushaw persisted.
    “Just thinking about home.”
    “We’ll get you there, young master.”
    “I know, Red. I have faith.”
    “It won’t be easy. We’ll need more troops to get through. Some have been telling me about the mountains. We’re too outnumbered to fight those orcs.”
    “What’s your plan?”
    “There are several plantations between here and there. We need to free more slaves to swell our ranks.”
    Crushaw explained that the Slithsythe Plantation, with its strategic location near the Crimson Road of the wilds, was the exception rather than the rule. The orcs surmised that it made sense to station troops there to guard against both slave escapes and potential invasions, but most plantations, especially those this far inside orc territory, had very few soldiers on the grounds, and in fact, many relied solely on overseers and lowly orc field-hands for protection. Crushaw believed they would have little trouble freeing a dozen plantations.
    The entire camp began to stir, and Roskin returned to his campsite to gather his things before the day’s march began. Between the images of Dorkhun in ruin and Crushaw in danger, he was already drained, and the march loomed as daunting. Still, he gladly accepted the sore legs and feet, for each advance towards the land of the Marshwoggs got him one day closer to home.
    ***
    As he watched the runaway creep among the sleeping orcs, Suvene wondered what the rock-brain was up to. Given the extraordinary disregard for life these slaves showed, Suvene half expected the dwarf to kill someone in his sleep. When the runaway was within arm’s reach of Suvene, it suddenly and without warning turned and ran towards the phantom. Suvene couldn’t believe he was a prisoner to such a stupid and foolish lot.
    He knew enough of geography and astronomy to know that they were at least a month from the mountains, moving at their current pace, and they were traveling exactly the direction he had guessed they would. Now, all he needed to do was free himself and reach one of the two fortresses near the Pass of Hard Hope, where thousands of well-trained orcs were garrisoned. If those soldiers could be forewarned, an army could be roused to greet the slaves before they crossed the mountains.
    Each day, Suvene studied the slaves’ habits to find his best opportunity for escape. Through the night and during meals, they were well-guarded, so those times were out. During the day’s march, the hunting party moved in a fairly broad perimeter around the mass, so his odds of slipping by them if he did manage to get away from the wagon were slim. The only time that offered his best hope of escape was during the daily drills.
    While the slaves drilled with the stolen weapons, the guards that watched the orcs often became enthralled by the sparring and would ignore the captives for several minutes at a time. All Suvene needed was a day when they were camped near terrain that would offer adequate cover, and he would slink into the brush or tall grass or trees and disappear during the drills.
    He had already practiced removing the