The Legend of Asahiel: Book 03 - The Divine Talisman Read Online Free PDF

burned against his flesh, but Haze felt only the fire of his own resolve. That Kael-Magus had signaled them to attack meant the information gathered by Torin concerning their enemies must have pleased him. The time for posturing had ended. Numbers and weapons and savagery were what mattered now, for ahead lay only bloodshed.
    And rebirth.
    He would have the Sword, Haze decided, before joining his Illychar brethren beyond these walls. In this, he would counter Rogun’s blow. By arming his kind, yes, but more importantly, by depriving their enemies of the hope and strength the talisman fostered. If he gained nothing else, this alone might be enough—enough to make him lord of the Illychar, master of this world.
    And he would have no better chance than right now.
    But how? Since Torin’s death, the former Fason and presiding regent had all but sequestered the blade along with himself and Marisha. The pair trusted virtually no one. And those they did…
    One by one, Haze considered them—the members of that small inner circle—wondering who he might twist to his advantage. How, exactly, was not yet a concern, only that one or more might be malleable enough to serve him in some capacity, willingly or otherwise.
    He turned, lost in private focus…and nearly tripped over a water bucket neglected by his chambermaid. In desperate need of strangling someone , he almost called to his guard to fetch her.
    Then it struck him.
    Seeking to unravel the truth of events, the Circle had interviewed dozens of potential witnesses. Aside from Allion and Marisha, only two had claimed any knowledge of Torin’s return prior to his death: Pagus, the chief herald, and Stephan, the chief seneschal. Rogun, Haze suspected, had also known, based upon the foresight the general had shown in sending his commander-in-waiting, Zain, through the city’s lower tunnels in search of any who might attempt to flee. Such intelligence might have come from any well-placed spy, including one that had been slain in the fighting. But Haze had wondered at the time of their testimony if either Stephan or Pagus—each a confirmed witness—might have served as Rogun’s mole.
    Now, upon focused reflection, Haze knew it. Not Stephan, for the aged fool was much too loyal to his city and king. But Pagus…Pagus was young and naive, full of ambition. The boy’s narrative had included no mention of Rogun or Zain. Why would it, when some still whispered that Zain himself had assassinated Torin at Rogun’s command? Had Pagus played any part in such treachery, he would surely seek to hide it.
    The boy had refused to even look the general’s way, Haze recalled, while testifying before the council. And though normally buoyant in mood and speech, the herald had been moping ever since beneath a pall of what had looked to be sadness—but might as easily be guilt.
    He could be wrong, of course, but Vorric Haze was short on time, and limited in his options. He would make the boy his pawn, then decide how best to use him.
    Rogun had won the day. He would not win the war.

CHAPTER THREE
    “A RE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” Marisha asked.
    In spite of everything—the fears, the doubts, the gut-wrenching pangs of sorrow and loss—Allion could have laughed.
    “There is precious little I can be sure about anymore,” he said instead.
    “But Rogun has already begun burning bodies, and I’ll not allow him to burn this one.”
    “His might be the greater kindness.”
    Allion stopped what he was doing to glare at her.
    “To make sure,” she explained.
    He held his glare, but ignored her comment and its dread implications. A moment later, he went back to his work, tying another rope into place.
    “There is no need for this,” she pressed. “It is an unwise and unnecessary risk.”
    “He would have done the same for me,” Allion insisted, reaching for another length of rope.
    “Torin would never have demanded this of you. Not under these circumstances. And if he had, then he was