The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

of men and sat contentedly at the edges of the field. Lethos staggered through the maze of the dead, stepping over a lost helmet or bent sword to pick his way to where Grimwold still lay.
    All around him deep hoofprints marked the earth. Lethos found the cloak he had lost during his transformation and pulled it around himself. He crouched over Grimwold, and his friend still remained in a deep sleep. The arrow shaft still protruded from his chest, the gray fledging stirring in the evening breeze like a small flag. Grimwold's body was sprayed with gore, probably from when Lethos had dramatically ripped an enemy in half. Lethos licked his lips and looked around for the rest of his clothes. He found them, torn and bloodied. He would need other clothing. There was plenty to choose from on this battlefield.
    "I guess we sent the raiders off," he said to Grimwold as he peered toward the village. The sky remained clear of smoke, meaning the raiders had at least missed it. Reifell was a large island with many small communities, but these raiders had sought the fatter prizes. So Lethos assumed whoever survived had taken to their ships and fled. In essence he recognized that transforming to a Minotaur had probably succeeded in driving the enemy back into the sea. He frowned.
    "I can't lose control like that," he said, half expecting Grimwold to agree. A sunbird screeched at another that had encroached on its carrion prize, the only answer Lethos received. "The bull can't control me. It's too dangerous. There must be a way to rid me of this curse."
    He surveyed the mangled bodies all around him, then clenched his fist. Corpses from both sides were savaged with inhuman ferocity, many bearing wide puncture wounds in their torsos. All wore expressions of terror in death.
    "Let's get you back to your hall," he said to Grimwold. Lethos possessed great strength as part of his bonding with Grimwold. He would be able to carry his huge friend back to where someone more expert than him could help. "Just let me get dressed and we'll be off."
    Grimwold said nothing, his eyes shut and his skin as waxy as a dead man's.
    And a stone-tipped arrow sticking up from his chest.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Avulash could see again. No longer was he limited to water and white mist. True sight of the real world. His ancient homeland, the stones and grasses of this land calling to him. No, screaming to him. The fragments of Sathkera left behind when the gods had broken it from the world. He set his foot down upon the land and it revealed itself to him, like a scroll flung open across a dining table. All the rich colors, the same as he remembered them from his first discovery, flooded his vision. Here on the shore, where the dull waters of the sea lapped against a beach of gray stones and pebbles, he gazed up the slope of sun-browned grass and saw the explosion of reds and golds awaiting him in the distance. A forest, just as majestic as Sathkera's, hemmed off the beach from the inner islands.
    His chain and plate armor was heavy upon his shoulders as he waded out of the cold surf onto the beach. He felt Sharatar's calling spell vibrating against the center of his forehead. It had guided him through the mists, back again from trackless Sathkera, into the old world once more. Sharatar had done what no seeker had ever before accomplished, and Avulash had done what no other captain of a white ark had ever achieved. As he stood on this shore, the white mist rolled back into the distance, he had both found the path to the old world and confirmed it again with a round-trip to Sathkera.
    He had opened the way.
    The mud sucked at his feet as he trudged ashore. His escorts remained on the rowboat, allowing their captain the sole honor and pride of this historic landfall. Avulash spread his thin, tired arms and let his white hair fall back as if he were embracing an old lover. In many ways, he was. The cold breeze caressed his