The Silent Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page A

strongholds and any garrison stops afterward. From the mountains, it would be only three or four more days to Count Trocero’s castle.
    He urged his charger on the moment he was beyond Tarantia’s confines. The way was clear, and the day promised to be a calm, quiet one with no hint of foul weather. Already, distant Poitain beckoned him. Nermesa could scarcely wait to reach the sunny province.
    But even more than Poitain, the eyes and lips of an auburn-haired lady-in-waiting beckoned the knight to hurry back.

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    PER INSTRUCTIONS, NERMESA paused each evening at military outposts stretched along his path. The seal and his rank brought him the respect and obedience of the officers in charge. Nermesa almost felt guilty using his authority for such an almost routine mission, but General Pallantides had taught him that he should treat even the most minor of the king’s commands as if the fate of the realm depended upon obeying them. Since the commander spoke from long and hair-raising experience, Nermesa took his words to heart. Yet he still disliked the honor he was accorded each time. The men assigned to these garrisons were good and loyal soldiers who likely had not seen Tarantia in months, perhaps even longer. They would still be out here risking their lives when Nermesa had long returned to the capital and married Telaria.
    Each evening he dined with the commander and passed on what news he knew from Tarantia. In return, the other officer would report what had happened in the vicinity of his garrison. The reports were, thankfully, fairly innocuous. The central region of Aquilonia had been quiet for some time, since Baron Sibelio’s brigands had been brought under control.
    At Samalara—the outpost some two days from Poitain—the garrison not only proved to completely consist of Gundermen, but the officer in charge was a distant cousin of none other than Morannus. The swarthy Dante even resembled Nermesa’s friend and, like many of his people, wore his dark hair bound into a tail.
    When he heard Nermesa’s name, the Gunderman reacted with a startled animation unlike what the Aquilonian had witnessed in any of the latter’s kind. Dante’s eyes fairly bulged, and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words.
    Recovering, the hulking Gunderman finally managed, “Of course I know you, Captain Nermesa Klandes! My cousin has spoken of you well, my lord, and all here know fully the part you played against the traitorous noble, Baron Antonus Sibelio . . .”
    “I did what I must,” returned the Black Dragon in a more subdued manner. He did not like to speak of his own exploits, nor did he desire to correct Captain Dante concerning his elevated station. Nermesa himself was still adjusting to being a baron.
    “Humble words for great deeds.” The Gunderman eyed him under a thick brow. “I toast you again . . .”
    Dante had a propensity for strong rum that Nermesa knew he could not match, and so, after one last drink, the noble bid the Gunderman good night. As with the other outposts, Dante insisted that Nermesa take his quarters, and the reluctant knight did just that.
    Garrisons along the more-traveled trade routes were either stationed at the nearest large settlement or, in the case of Dante’s outpost, near a crossroads. A smaller but valued route heading toward Corinthia meant that much traffic passed near, and so a squat, wooden fort capable of supporting a force of eighty men and several horses was built on the western side. Most of the men slept in a long, flat-roofed barracks, but Dante and his two subofficers had quarters of their own in a separate building directly across from the barracks.
    Beyond the walls but well within the protection of the garrison was a tiny, makeshift settlement of shops and inns that had built up over the past few years. Most of the establishments were intended to offer various comforts for the caravans and riders traveling the trails. There was even a brothel. As with other such stops