The Fabled Beast of Elddon Read Online Free PDF

another pair were out in front. The
driver was only a few feet away, the reins clutched in his big hands, casting
wary glances at the trees around them. He had a clay jug beneath his bench seat
and drew it out now and again to take a long swallow.
    “Could
I have some of that?” Ryia asked. “I think I need it more than you.”
    The
old man glanced over his shoulder. He licked his lips and ran a hand over his
mouth. “I’d give you some if I could.” He frowned. “But I don’t believe this
here jug will fit through them bars.”
    “You
might have brought a cup with you,” Ryia said.
    “Aye.
I didn’t think--”
    “You
could just let me go. Stop the cart and let me out.”
    “I’ve
nothing against you, miss,” the driver said, “nothing personal like, but I
think these fellas might object.” He nodded his head in the direction of the
guardsmen. “And I’ve my own skin to think about.”
    The
driver turned away, resuming his vigil, and Ryia slumped once more against the
side of her cage. She suddenly felt like crying but refused to let the tears
fall. She would not give these men the satisfaction of seeing her weep. She had
to be strong, no matter what happened next.
    Sir
Egan’s treachery had been a surprise. She had always known the knight was half in
love with her, or that he wanted her at least, the way that men do. She had
caught him on many occasions admiring her in a very unscrupulous way. He was
too old by far. He was handsome enough, perhaps, but not as handsome as Tristan.
The thought of Sir Egan touching her made her skin crawl. Still, she had tried
in subtle ways to encourage him, just enough to keep her safe from harm. But somehow
she had miscalculated.
    The
afternoon was wearing on toward evening when they emerged from the woods into a
barren landscape of broken stones and jagged rock. The road disappeared
altogether, but the cart continued on, moving toward a cleft between two
massive angles of rock.
    The
cart passed through the cleft and for several minutes all she could hear was
the sound of the wheels crunching over loose stone and the clip-clop of the
horse’s hooves. The sun was gone and the long shadows enveloped them, obscuring
the details of the mountain and the men who road beside the cart. They appeared
like wraiths on shadowy steeds, following along in the gloom.
    They
emerged on the other side of the cleft, coming out onto a wide plateau of naked
stone and there, ahead of them, was the ruined city of Ibridion. The city was built
from the same stone as the mountain, so that it was all but invisible until one
drew close. At a glance, the lines of the city appeared too straight to have
been made by human hands, the arches too perfect. She could see a fair number
of square cut windows in the faces of broken towers reaching up into the paling
sky. There was an eerie silence about the place, a sense that it was holding
its breath, waiting for something or someone. Perhaps it was merely waiting for
her. The thought sent a chill down her spine.
    The
wagon came to a halt at the edge of a wide courtyard, surrounded by pillars of
rock. At the far end of the courtyard, two great wooden doors, twice the height
of a man, were set back into the surface of a stone wall. The doors were old
beyond measure, the wood aged until it appeared like iron, each door a patchwork
of smaller squares with a metal stud at the center of each. In the middle of
the courtyard was a circular depression, and there was set a thick column of oak,
the top of which had been carved in the likeness of a beastly face with a beak
and curved horns.
    The
driver turned the wagon so that the door to the cage faced the courtyard. A
breeze wafted through the space, moaning softly, sounding to Ryia like the
voices of the dead. She felt the hairs along her arms prickle and her flesh grew
cold. This was not a good place. This city had seen evil beyond imagining. This
was a place of beasts and monsters.
    Two
of the guardsmen