The Sorcerer's Bane Read Online Free PDF Page A

done?” he whispered.
    Nadja shushed him, but he rose higher and stared. He recognized the surge and retreat of the water, slight though it might be. It was the movement of the sea. It could be nothing else. Had they dug a tunnel to the ocean? Had they opened a way to some underground cavern full of seawater? Did they seek to drown Corium in her sleep?
    Nadja gripped his shoulder then, from behind. So intent was he that he sought to shake her hand off. Surprised at her strength, he snapped his head around.
    Nadja was not there. Instead, a fanatical priest loomed above him. The man released him and picked up one of the cairn stones. The priest lifted the heavy, head-sized stone upward in both hands with the clear intention of striking down and dashing out Gruum’s brains.
    The stone flashed down toward Gruum’s face. He rolled away, and the priest missed. Gruum had his dagger out and he buried it in the man’s leg. The priest did not react with pain or fear. He reacted as might a man who felt nothing. He reached for a fresh stone to smash down.
    Gruum pulled the dagger out of the man’s thigh and reached higher this time, gutting the priest. The man only grunted, but kept chanting and grimacing. He lifted his new stone high overhead, his muscles standing out with the strain.
    Stabbing again and again, Gruum ruined the man’s belly. Entrails slid out of gaping wounds. The stone still came down, and caught Gruum upon his wrist, smashing it painfully. He dropped his dagger and scrambled away. The priest staggered after him, but now the lost blood took its toll. The priest looked no less determined in his task. He did not retreat. He slid on the stones, his sandals making streaks of blood as he shuffled forward. His arms refused to lift the stone fully overhead, but still he kept coming.
    Gruum had his feet now, and he had his saber out in his good hand. He had trained himself for years to fight almost as well with his left hand as his right, and tonight the work paid off. He cut off the man’s hands with the first slash, causing the head-sized stone to fall and clatter down upon its countless brothers.
    The priest kept shuffling forward, slower now, stumps still upraised although they no longer carried a stone. He kept up the bass chanting as well, his lips working and buzzing as if nothing was amiss. Suddenly, his mad eyes focused upon Gruum’s own, and he spoke words that were intelligible as speech.
    “Mote of flesh and dust,” the priest said, in a voice so deep it could not be his own. “Fear the priestesses.”
    “You speak to me now ?” Gruum asked. He lowered his saber a fraction.
    “The witches of Anduin build that which must not be freed,” said the priest. The man took a last step forward, half staggering. His stumps flowed blood as he held them upraised before his body, as if he believed he still held aloft a stone with which to dash out Gruum’s brains. The blood ran down to his elbows and dribbled from those twin spots, splashing upon the cairns like rainspouts in a storm.
    Disgusted and frightened, Gruum took off the man’s head. Behind him, the other priests rose from their positions of worship. Each of them picked up a handy stone and headed in his direction. They moved in shuffling trots, however, and he soon outdistanced them.
    Gruum found Nadja waiting for him in the black, dirty chutes that led up into Corium. She so startled him, he raised his sword to her. She laughed then, and he recognized the sound. He let his saber down slowly.
    She lit a candle for him, a small one of the type people carry in pockets for dark moments such as this one.
    “You left me,” he said.
    “You didn’t stay quiet.”
    Gruum considered her for a moment, and then nodded. “All right. I think it is time for us to go see your father.”
    “Must we?” she asked.
    “I’m definitely going. Come along or not. It is up to you.”
    Nadja smiled at him. “Of course it is,” she said.

-7-

    They made their way