Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

camp and the world of now.
    “We have a problem,” she said, crouching on the ground before him.
    “I have a problem. It feels like a blacksmith cracked open my head and poured some melted iron into it,” he said.
    “You shouldn’t take so many memories at once, but still it seems you did what needed to be done and have protected something that will now need,” she said.
    Grimm looked at her through watery eyes with surprise.
    “Of course, I know,” she said softly.
    She was a little jealous of his knowledge and power now but spoke truth. She knew what was next, what had already happened while she searched for the drunken Northman.
    “We have to leave. Today,” she said. “You, me and Josette, if she’ll come.”
    “And why’s that?” Grimm asked.
    “Because the king’s arrived.”
    “So what? He looks like a child I’ve never been less impressed by someone.” He spat.
    As Grimm spoke, he looked at the keep. A thick, dark snake of smoke started to rise from the courtyard and stain the sky like a dark thought.
    “What’s that?” he asked.
    “It’s books, Grimm. Lots of books.”
    ***
    Dagosh’s men were busy piling up the bodies of the dead onto blood-drenched wagons. It was a nasty job, but better he did it than anyone else. At least, they’d do it with some respect. The Red Bastards had the good sense to leave his people the hell alone. Each one had been left, untouched, weapons and armor still in one piece. They clearly didn’t want to piss off their new allies, or at least, wanted a day to rest before getting in another fight.
    They had won the battle and he felt nothing but tired. He’d imagined it was some glorious adventure, but realized he just wasn’t angry anymore. He’d been filled for so many years with such a pit of rage. It was like a fire that drove him onwards, but now, looking at the dead faces of the men and women he’d saved from slavery, trained, and become friends with, his rage left him. He felt cold without it.
    He thought he was rescuing them, giving them some meaning and pride back in their lives. Now they had no lives at all. When this was over, he was going to hire the Cold Death out as guards only and do easy work. This was just too hard.
    He looked up to see smoke rising from the Keep. It was a deep dark color and it looked like trouble. The fire lit inside him again in an instant.
    “Cold Death,” he yelled to the hundred or so men and women who were collecting the bodies,
    “To arms!”
    ***
    Never trust a king. Never trust people who all look the same, have little uniforms with strange symbols and carry stupid looking weapons. Goldie was a good judge of when people were lying, play acting and when he had seen his new friend Thellas talking with Elizebetha, he saw the truth of it. A man holding himself back from violence. He looked like a drunkard getting ready to hit his wife.
    He was quite used to smiling at someone when he really wanted to stick a dagger in them. His father had taught him that skill early on. Now he could smile while the dagger was actually in them, but naive old Elizebetha just followed them into the Keep and probably thought all her troubles were over.
    The courtyard fell silent when they disappeared through the huge open doorway. He saw the king’s troops, standing still but silently preparing, tightening straps, straightening armor, testing bowstring and whispering to each other. There was no one to fight. The Reds were in their camp and were clearly part of the king’s plans, but the Blackrock loyalist were here and the Cold Death were only minutes away. The king had brought enough men to deal with them both.
    Goldie watched, face unmoving, as soon as the red-clad men came back out of the Keep. They carried armloads of expensive looking books and leather bound volumes, throwing them roughly in a pile on the ground. He’d seen her library and knew where they came from. After two or more trips, they had quite the pile. One man bent down