The Last Praetorian Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the demon spun to the shattered ground.
    Chuckling, t he wizard tucked the heart into his pouch, saying simply, “They are very valuable you know.” He smiled mirthlessly and hopped back on his carpet. “We will be ready for the next phase, Praetorian.” He clasped Tarion’s hand and smiled, “Good luck Tarion; we’re all counting on you!”
    “Good luck Alexandrus,” Tarion waved as the wizard deftly flew back into the air and disappeared into the city.
    “I’m glad they’re on our side,” Fanuihel sighed, looking back out over the gate. “Still, the necromancers did their job. Whoever is the commander out there is reforming.”
    The elf was right. Battalions of giants rushed up the roadway led by a yellow bearded general in gilded armor.
    “King Johaan has taken charge,” Tarion laughed. “If I can depend on anyone to push the entire host into a trap, he’s the man!”
    True to Tarion’s desire, Johaan formed his giants into a long phalanx of pikeman. They leveled their tree-like halberds, herding the trolls, ogres and goblins back to the walls. Growling and cursing, the trolls grappled the chains and hauled the beast away from the wall and back to the gate.
    The bloody horn struck the portal and the Gate Towers trembled—BOOM!
    “We’ve made our stand here. Seal the doors below, I’d best get to the square,” Tarion told Fanuihel. “If we fail, make your way toward the docks with as many men as you can. I trust you with the evacuation of the city until Ancenar takes over!”
    “ What of you Tarion?”
    “The emperor will not leave—he’s made that clear! My duty is in Roma.” Tarion turned his sharp green eyes on Fanuihel and he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s either a giant’s axe or his majesty’s knife in my back one last time!” He held out his hand.
    “Don’t despair my friend,” Fanuihel told him. “We will get through this day; we must.”
    Tarion nodded, but for the first time, he didn’t believe it. A cold fatal cloak wrapped him. His heart was dead. His blood was like ice. Why? He shook off the feeling of dread, falling back into his old habits. Despite his secret doubts, Tarion’s demeanor was one of calm, confident control as he strode down the stairs of the tower and stepped out onto the pavement of the inner court.
    There the balance of his forces waited hidden within the walls, ready to defend the city. Thousands of eyes were upon him, watching his every move with the terrible agitation that impending doom heaps on the mortal and immortal breast alike.
    Tarion stopped. Perception was reality, so experience taught him, therefore Tarion looked as unconcerned as possible. He gazed around the court at his forces, calmly putting on his gauntlets as if he were attending a ball and not the end of the world. One of the Praetorian Guard brought his horse.
    BOOM—behind him, the main gate bent inwards. The pavers of the street jumped from their bedding. A shuddering gasp went up from the host, fearing their commander would be trampled by the behemoth! Instead of withdrawing from danger, Tarion rashly approached the gate and put a hand to his ear as if listening to someone knocking lightly on the timbers. The legionaries chuckled wryly at the grim jest. The behemoth smelled Tarion and stopped, snorting in fury. The Praetorian ignored it and in a leisurely manner, mounted his horse—BOOM!
    Tarion spurred his mount and cantered around the inner square, riding along the lines of troops. He would make the Destructor’s host pay dearly for entering his city! Drawing his dwarf-forged sword and brandishing it high, Tarion roared, “Stand fast, soldiers of Terra! It is not our lives that we risk this day but the fate of our world! Stand fast and fight darkness with fury! They wish death; therefore let us give them Death!”
    “DEATH!” they roared in answer.
    “Death!”
    “DEATH!”
    The steel gate bent inward—BOOM!
    “Stand ready and let us defend our world to the