The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

creating a fire barrier for any who climbed from below.
    Garret dared not wait, he had only protected a hundred feet
or so of the wall that stretched on for what now seemed an eternity. Running
once more, he approached the next cauldron and began to lift it as Borrik
slammed to the stone wall opposite him. Together they lifted the second immense
container of boiling fluid and repeated the process.
    By the fourth cauldron some of the invaders peaked the wall,
but Garret dared not stop, hoping his men could handle the foes.
    “Borrik, we must continue!” he shouted, to a replied nod.
    There was no one else able to lift the giant cauldrons. Even
the great werewolf was having issues, his skin beginning to blister on his
hands and arms as the fur burned away.
    Minutes passed and the men upon this western wall managed to
hold their foes as the king and great wolf dumped cauldron after cauldron,
working their way northward along the wall, but they were too slow. Ahead, more
and more of the foreign men topped the wall and the defenders could not hold
them. Garret witnessed as the unnatural invaders pounced upon his meager
forces, biting and clawing them ferociously. They drank the blood of those they
felled before leaping to the rooftops beyond, to be lost again in darkness. He
had seen another drink the blood of her foes.
    It was no use, and Garret abandoned the next cauldron,
rushing past it to help those falling back upon the wall. Borrik leapt into the
air, out of his way, and took up the fight as well. Within seconds, the masses
of the enemy began breaching the wall everywhere the burning oil did not
protect. The city would fall on the very first night.
    With that thought Garret got his wish as his vision turned
red and a chuckle escaped his lips, before he drew his massive blade and began
hacking the unholy creatures to bits. He stomped ahead on the wall, allies
trying to make a clear path as he came. The one-armed king, a giant among men,
cut a path of gore upon the great stone wall as hundreds of the creatures
poured over the edge to meet the defenders.
    Approaching a group that did not flee at his approach,
Garret swung low, knowing the things would easily leap above his blade. Then,
mid swing, he changed the angle of his attack and bending one knee he arced his
blade upwards, catching more than half of the creatures across the abdomens,
effectively severing each of them in two.
    Five or six at a time was not going to be enough, however,
as his forces upon the west wall began to fail at an increasing rate. There
were more enemies than allies, and within moments the wall would be lost. Garret
charged ahead, swinging his blade wildly, hacking anything that did not evade
him. The city was lost. There were too many to hold off with such diminished
forces. Even the few remaining werewolves realized it, as they all howled into
the night as if of one mind. If things were not bad enough, as Garret focused
his attention on a throng of enemies topping the wall, a series of explosions
sounded as a great wind blasted him, driving him back a step. He had failed
Valdadore’s people.
    * * * * *
    Seth soared along on his great, black, leathery wings,
feeling at one with the night. His magical wind propelled him on at an alarming
speed that made his eyes water and his flesh rise in goose pimples. Flying was
amazing, even with everything that had gone wrong in the last few months. Right
now he did not have the luxury of dwelling on all of his mistakes. He could not
afford to repeat them, either. It was best to focus on the present, and what he
could do to fix it.
    Reaching out, he once again checked his progress. Sigrant’s
camp grew nearer by the second, and Valdadore was only a few miles beyond that.
He had noted the small contingent breaking off from Sigrant’s forces, and
checked in every few moments to see their progress. At first, when the two
forces seemed to collide it appeared that Valdadore was winning. Now, however,
the tide