Siege of Night Read Online Free PDF

saw. His mind was completely broken—from the horrors within the Dead Forest, or this wounded axe-wielding killer, or who knows what!”
    He marched across the room and snatched Athel by her shoulders while bringing his face dangerously close to hers. He said in a low growl, “There are already rumors of this Gate Keeper running rampant throughout the city. False reports are becoming more and more frequent, even from beyond the borders of the city. I don’t need the ramblings of a madman aiding a rumor that is already gaining strength by the day.” He shoved her aside then stormed from the room.
    Athel leaned against the stone wall and eyed the fresh corpse still hanging limply from the cuffs. Her thoughts were not of pity for the man, who clearly didn’t deserve his fate. No, her disappointment strung from the fact he could no longer be questioned. He had not been lying; of that she was sure. As to whether or not he was mad, she would have liked more time to determine if that claim were true. It was certainly possible. You know, Father, the Gate Keeper might be real . With that thought, she decided it was time to cross blades with a few of the soldiers—just to relieve some frustration, of course.
    * * *
    Athel marched through the white, dust-covered streets as blasts of cold air rattled her beaded hair. The winds never really stopped, only slowed in between bursts, giving her a chance to get her sense of direction before having to squint tightly against the frosty wind yet again. The few who roamed the streets gave a quick nod as they passed, knowing full well who Corzon’s daughter was. She didn’t even notice most of the time, due to constant squinting against the elements and the very real distraction of what she had just witnessed. A little fun in the arena will take my mind off things .
    Dronin viewed the games differently than other cities. Warriors were held in high regard no matter their rank or position in society. In fact, slaves sold into the games considered themselves lucky to be stationed here in the war-obsessed city. Here they would share quarters with the regular soldiers, and would even be given a chance to join their ranks if they could prove their worth —a very realistic possibility, given that skill with a blade always proved a better gauge for judging character than morality ever would.
    The arena bustled with activity as it usually did, no matter the time of day. Even when tournaments were not taking place, it was used daily by soldiers and slaves alike to perfect their craft, a craft that held the key to an unpredictable future. For a soldier on the battlefield, life and death could be determined in a fraction of a second. A countermove one man had practiced at full speed ten thousand times before, hoping his foe had only utilized it five thousand, could be the key to staying alive. For a practitioner of the games, the threat of death was always present, but the chance to win one’s freedom or even join the city’s military far exceeded the fear of a shortened life, so the inhuman training was taken quite seriously, given what was at stake.
    This afternoon was no different. Dozens of shirtless men feverishly yet gracefully danced across the hard, cold sand. The clacking of wooden swords echoed off the lower stone walls as well as the rows and rows of sturdy wooden benches that scaled in levels on and on up the marvelous structure. The wood, used to seat thousands, was a sign of how much the games were held in such high regard. Wood, while not exactly rare, was not especially plentiful either, and to use so much for anything...
    The high walls kept the freezing wind from blasting the combatants, so even though it was still plenty cold, going shirtless through the rigorous routines was not nearly as harsh as it would appear. In fact, sweating profusely while wearing a shirt was considered far more dangerous in the cold, thin air.
    Through days and weeks of practicing with the Dronin