The Deadwalk Read Online Free PDF Page A

rhyme nagged at the edges of his mind, one he hadn't
shared with his father.
    Let their kingdoms fall before me
    And I shall be her rightful Queen.
     
    The Shraal had it wrong, Rau thought. He would be the rightful King. He would
rein over the entire coast.
    A shadow moved between Rau and the light. He tensed momentarily, going for
the sword slung low across his hips. But the shadow smiled and moved into the
beam of light shining through the doorway.
    “Your Highness.”
    “Captain Larz.”
    “At your service.”
    Rau burst into raucous laughter. “That you are, Captain. Won't you join
me?”
    “A glorious night,” Larz offered, eyeing his commander nervously.
    “That it is.” Turning away to hide the extent of his drunkenness, Rau leaned
his forearms on the railing and stared down into the square. One of the soldiers
had tumbled into the fountain. A group of giggling young ladies were trying
unsuccessfully to pull him out. Larz, following the Prince's gaze, recognized
his man in the fountain and shifted uncertainly.
    “They fought hard for our victory,” he said at last.
    The women's laughter drifted upward to the balcony, followed by a loud splash
as the drunken soldier slipped once again from the ladies' grasp.
    “A hard campaign,” Rau agreed, and almost chuckled at the concerned look on
Larz's face. “They deserve their night of merriment.”
    Larz relaxed visibly. “And you, Your High--”
    The Prince dismissed the title with a wave of his hand. Though they shared a
camaraderie in battle, in the palace Larz was a model of decorum. “Rau,” he
insisted. “We are alone.”
    “Yes, Sir.” Larz glanced at the soldier who, now sobered by the cold of the
fountain, was clambering to his feet under his own power. “I'd have thought to
find you out among them.”
    Rau sighed. “At court we must keep up appearances. Rest assured, I'll have my
celebration later.”
    “When we take Kholer.”
    “The night we take Kholer, I shall run nude through that fountain,” Rau said.
“Regardless of what my father thinks.”
    Unsure whether to smile, Larz merely nodded.
    “There will be weeks of hard battle between here and Kholer.”
    “Our army grows with each village,” the captain said and shuddered visibly.
In an attempt to cover the reflex, he tipped his goblet high.
    Rau looked down into his own and found it empty. He glanced up at Larz. “The
legend of Zal-Azaar, do you believe it, Captain?”
    Larz snorted. “Stories to entertain old women and frighten small children. No
more.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    The captain fidgeted with his gauntlets.
    “If the tale of the Amber turned out to be true,” Rau prompted using his
father's argument to cover his doubts, “why not the Sword and the mythical
princess?”
    “That is a question for men greater than I,” Larz said.
    “Perhaps.” Rau stared into the darkness.
    “You don't believe in the warrior-princess,” the captain asked anxiously. “Do
you, Sir?”
    “Of course not.” His certainty sounded forced, even to his own ears.
    For a moment neither made any further attempts at conversation.
    “Well,” Larz said at length, “I must see to the men.” He laughed with forced
cheerfulness. “We don't want them tearing up our city in their zeal.”
    “Good night to you, Captain.”
    This melancholy mood was not going to pass, Rau thought bitterly. Behind him
the crowd of dignitaries was thinning. The ice-sculptures on the banquet table
had melted into silver puddles, and the lavish spread looked as though it had
been plundered as thoroughly as Kanarek. Empty goblets cluttered every flat
surface. A few had even been thrust into the hands of marble statues and wedged
between the branches of the potted topiary. Exhausted servants desperately tried
to keep the carnage to a minimum and failed.
    Rau turned back into the humid air. Despite the heavy perfume of honeysuckle,
it was as if even the sky pressed down upon