The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two Read Online Free PDF Page A

one’s dying yet in battle, then where is the blood coming from?”
    Talwyn shrugged. “I guess it’s up to us to figure that out—more of that bad luck you mentioned.”
    They looked up as footsteps came closer, and Jair’s hand automatically fell to the
stelian
sword at his belt, the weapon he carried as one of the Sworn’s elite
trinnen
warriors. Mihei, one of Jair’s fellow
trinnen
, was approaching with an unfamiliar guest. Mihei reached the edge of the firelight and stopped, bowing to Talwyn and her father.
    “My apologies for the interruption, Cheira Talwyn, Chief Pevre.”
    Pevre shook his head. “We’ve finished the working. Who’s this with you, and how did we come to have a visitor on the eve of battle?”
    The newcomer stepped into the firelight, and Jair raised an eyebrow, recognizing the cut of the man’s jacket to be Dhasson military issue, although it was stripped of its insignia. “Honored Chief and Cheira,” the man said, making a deep bow. “My name is Captain Davin, and I’ve come with a message for Prince Jair, from King Harrol.”
    Jair motioned for Davin to join them and be seated. Mihei returned to his post. “These are dangerous times for a ride through Margolan,” Jair said cautiously, trying to read Davin’s face and posture. “Is father well?”
    Davin made the sign of the Lady in warding and then cast a glance toward Talwyn and her father, as if he feared they might take offense at the gesture. “The king’s well, thank the Lady. But I’m afraid these are dangerous timesin Dhasson as well. Plague has spread from the Margolan border, and it’s reached the outskirts of Valiquet. So many farmers have died or fled from the plague that food is becoming scarce in the cities. The king sent soldiers out to recover what he could of the harvest, since much of it was left to rot in the fields and on the trees. I’m afraid we’ll eat through the winter stockpile long before spring.”
    “And hunger means unrest,” Jair murmured. Davin nodded. “What else can you tell me, Captain?”
    “Your father’s called up all the regiments on high alert. Dhasson doesn’t have coastline on the Northern Sea, but there’s plenty of shoreline along the Nu River, and the chroniclers warned the king that the last time invaders came from the north, their raiders went as far south as Trevath before they were beaten back.”
    “So father’s going to make sure they don’t get past Dhasson this time?”
    “Yes, my prince.” He shook his head. “Granted that I’ve been on the road for several weeks, but when I left, the army had its hands full keeping the peace. Frightened people drink more, and pick more fights. It’s as if there’s been a month of full moons, what with people losing their senses. The wretches at the madhouse went on a rampage and broke down the gates. No one knows why, or where they’ve gone. Even the Sisterhood is having a grim time of it. Word has it that some of their mages have been frightened out of their wits by something only they can see.” He shivered. “We’re past the Feast of the Departed, but there are ghosts walking in every crossroads and burying ground. They won’t lie still, and even the hedge witches can’t make them rest quietly. These are bad days, m’lord. Never seen the like of them.”
    Davin reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded parchment. It bore the royal seal pressed into scarlet wax. From the way the seal made a dim glow as Jair broke it, he guessed that it had been spelled to open only for him.
    “Problems?” Talwyn asked, turning to watch as Jair read down through the bold, sweeping pen strokes.
    Jair’s mouth formed a hard line as he scanned the letter. “They’ve had more problems with the Black Robes,” he said dryly. “Damn Shanthadurists. He put an armed guard around the barrows while the Sworn is on the northern leg of the Ride, but there’ve been grave robbings and goat killings at cairns and crypts all around the