Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) Read Online Free PDF Page B

large table dominated the centre of the room. On it sat a chessboard with pieces made of gold and silver. King Aemon stood beside it, garbed in a simple monk’s robe. A pitcher of water mixed with wine sat on the table, along with two crystal goblets. Aemon leant on the table studying the position on the board. It looked like a game was already well under way.
    There were no servants, and the bodyguards withdrew. Kormak watched them go. It made him wary. In his experience, kings rarely spoke in private with the likes of him, and never without bodyguards. Aemon was a powerful mage, but he must know that a guardian could kill any mage at such close range. Maybe the king was making a statement of trust, or maybe he was just as mad as some people suspected.
    “Have you made up your mind about my request, Sir Kormak?” Aemon asked.
    “I will go to Terra Nova on your behalf, your majesty. The matter of the sarcophagus must be investigated.”
    Aemon looked up from the game and measured out his thin smile. “That pleases me, Sir Kormak.”
    “But it does not surprise you, Sire.”
    “No, it does not. I knew you would find the right path.”
    “That’s one way of looking at things.”
    “There are usually many ways of looking at something, Sir Kormak. Most people can find one they agree on, given time.”
    “There are some things I will need to aid me in my investigation.”
    “Name them.”
    “I will need your authority to investigate in any way I please, and help from any of your officials I encounter.”
    “Naturally. All cooperation will be given.”
    “I need your permission to follow this investigation no matter where it may lead, no matter who it incriminates.”
    Aemon turned that over in his mind. He was aware that such an investigation might have consequences that might prove uncomfortable. He said, “I would expect nothing less.”
    “And I want Captain Rhiana to accompany me. She has proven useful in the past. She can sense the Old Ones and the use of power, and she can look after herself.”
    “She is free to accompany you if she wishes.”
    Aemon looked up at the portrait of King Varlan. It sneered down at him. He noticed Kormak watching him, and rubbed his eyebrow with his left hand.
    “I hated my father,” Aemon said. “He was a gross brute who ran the kingdom into debt to pay for his pleasures. He broke my mother’s heart and very near led Siderea to ruin. He took out his temper on any who were within his reach. All his rages were justified. At least to him.”
    He paused, looked at Kormak sidelong. “Does that surprise you, Sir Kormak? How unfilial I am?”
    Kormak shook his head. “Very little surprises me these days, your majesty.”
    Aemon nodded and gave his attention back to the chessboard. He moved a knight towards the centre, got up and walked around the table, and sat on the other side of the board. “I vowed I would be nothing like him. And I have done my best to keep that vow.”
    “I believe you, your majesty.”
    Aemon leant forward, squinted down at the rows of silver pieces. He reached out to move a prelate, then pulled his hand back. “Did you hate your father?”
    “I barely knew him. He died when I was eight years old.”
    “Killed by the Old One Adath Decurion, the so-called Prince of Dragons,” Aemon said, almost to himself. He reached out and moved the prelate, decisively this time. He glanced at Kormak and said, “Oh yes. I know all about it. My intelligencers would hardly be worth the gold I pay them if I did not.”
    “Yes, killed by an Old One, your majesty.”
    “And you don’t remember him?”
    “He was a big man, black-haired. A blacksmith.”
    “That is a position of some significance in Aquilea, is it not? Maker of weapons, shaper of iron, brander of runes and so on.”
    “As you say, your majesty. He was a brave man. He died trying to save me from the Old One.”
    “And the Old One spared you. How curious!” Kormak sensed that the king was trying to