The Skeleton King (The Silk & Steel Saga) Read Online Free PDF

much had happened, so
much had changed. She’d fled her home, escaping Castlegard only to find traitors
holding the frozen keep. Knights of the
Octagon turned to the Dark, Kath shivered at the memory. They’d fought
their way out, with Sir Tyrone paying a hero’s price, another bitter loss. Using
the signal tower as his funeral pyre, they sent warning to the Octagon. Kath
prayed her father understood but she feared her actions made her an exile. The
loss weighed heavy on her soul. And now they rode north, into the land that
birthed all her childhood nightmares. Five companions dared the wrong side of the
mountains, chasing an ancient evil into the north. It sounded like a bard’s
ballad, but Kath knew the dangers were all too real, the odds deathly grim. She
gripped the crystal dagger, praying the gods lent their hand to the trials
ahead.
    The horses trotted around a bend
cast deep in shadows. A rotting stench slapped Kath in the face, the stink of
carrion. Jerked from her reverie, she stared at the dead horse.
    “Caw!” A lingering raven
squawked a warning and then launched into the gray sky.
    Kath steadied her stallion, holding
her breath against the stench. Still saddled with the Octagon’s maroon livery,
a confusion of tracks surrounded the rotting feast. Mountain lion, wolf, bear,
and a few she didn’t recognize, come to claim the prize of easy meat.
    Duncan swung down from his gelding. “Not much
meat left, just skin and bones.” Slapping away the shroud of flies, he knelt to
examine the saddlebags. “Judging from the smell, I figure the Mordant has more
than a fortnight lead on us.”
    Bryx trotted close, nosing the
carcass, issuing a low growl.
    Danya patted her mare and looked
pale, her voice flushed with anguish. “He doesn’t even unsaddle the poor
beasts.”
    Blaine nudged his warhorse close, concern on
his face. “He runs them into the ground and then discards them. Horses and
people make no difference to the Mordant, just tools to be used.”
    “No, you’re wrong.” Kath shook her
head, remembering the bitter fight at the Crag. “To the Mordant, people are bears
in a pit, goaded to fight. He incites kingdoms to war and then sits back to
enjoy the bloodshed. When the fighting’s done, he claims the spoils from both
sides.” She looked back at the ruined carcass. “In the Mordant’s world, the
horses get off light.”  
    The monk murmured, “She has the
truth of it.”  
    Duncan finished his search, wiping his hands
on a patch of ferns. “Saddlebags are empty, no clue to the Mordant’s intent,
just like the other horse.” He vaulted into the saddle, fluid grace beneath
black leather. “The dead horse is message enough.” His mismatched gaze found Kath,
one cat-eye golden and the other sapphire-blue. “The Mordant races to reclaim
his power. His lead is too great for us to stop him.”
    The truth could not be denied, yet
it did not change her need to put an end to the ancient evil. “Then we’ll just
have to follow and find another way.”  
    Duncan nodded, “Just so,” but his smile did
not reach his eyes.
    Kath turned her stallion downhill
and asked for a trot. A clop of hooves followed. The rotting stench fell away,
replaced by the crisp scents of cedar and pine. Trees twisted by the wind
crowded close. Kath peered beneath their boughs, wary of ambush. Everything
seemed sinister north of the Spines, the steel-gray sky, the gloomy forest, the
winter-cold wind, and the ever present ravens, as if the land held its breath,
waiting for evil to strike. Chiding herself for such dark premonitions, she
gripped her sword hilt, reassured by the feel of good Castlegard steel.
    Strung out in a line, they rode
down through the foothills, the shadows stretching toward twilight. Kath
yearned for the sunlight. Her warhorse must have sensed her unease, pulling
ahead of the others. Only Duncan
kept pace, his dark gelding matching strides with the sorrel stallion.
    The trail curved out onto a