The Written Read Online Free PDF Page A

Durnus’s words
made sense, but Farden didn’t like the sound of them. Something did
not feel quite right. The old vampyre spoke up again. ‘The Arkmages
have sent word that you are to find a man named Jergan in the south
of Albion. My research indicates that he might know what this book
is, and who could of stolen it.’
    ‘Jergan. Who is he?’
    ‘It would seem that he was once
a scholar in his own right, who lived at Arfell before the war. He
might have come across this book before when he lived with the
dragon-riders.’
    ‘Jergan worked with the
Sirens?’
    Durnus made a face. ‘He is
Siren. He returned to Nelska and studied in Hjaussfen before the
war broke out. But apparently ten years ago he was attacked by a
lycan somewhere on the ice fields and fled to Albion, living in the
mountains to the north where he’s been under the wolf-curse ever
since. I’ve just heard word that a year ago he took up residence in
the Dornoch hills in the south and is now living alone somewhere on
the moors. It would seem the locals have lost many a sheep,’ he
paused. ‘Even the thought of a lycan makes me sick. Ugh.’ Durnus
shuddered. Farden smiled, distracted. A lycan in Albion sounded
dangerous. ‘When do I leave?’ he said, and stood up to stretch. But
as much as he tried to shake himself awake, the more he could feel
the tiredness creeping over him. The fatigue spell he had cast the
day before to keep him moving was finally starting to wear off.
    The vampyre wagged a finger at
him. ‘Tonight Farden, you rest, and no arguments. You have plenty
of time for a good night’s rest and slumber. It’s not as though the
Arka will fall apart overnight,’ said Durnus.
    ‘As long as nothing happens to
their gold, then I think we’re safe,’ murmured Farden, and the
vampyre laughed. ‘Politics, Farden, politics and rules. That’s all
they care about. People like us belong out here on the fringes,
where it matters. Somehow I can’t see us cooped up in a hall
debating the finer points of civilisation,’ he said.
    The mage nodded. He wandered
around the vampyre’s room and flicked through interesting-looking
parchments and book covers. ‘So you don’t miss it then?’ he asked.
Durnus threw him a quizzical look.
    ‘The city?’
    ‘Being in the thick of it,’
    Durnus shook his head. ‘No. I
thought that was one of the reasons you came here Farden, like I
did, to get away from all the pressure and the gossip and the
politics.’
    Farden muttered something to
himself as he picked up another book. ‘I know,’ he said aloud.
Durnus looked at the sleepy mage. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
    The mage shook his head wearily
and he managed a smile. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ The vampyre nodded
and grinned, showing a sliver of fang between his chalk lips.
‘Fancy some wine?’ he offered, and pointed to table in the corner
of the room. An ornate green bottle filled with a dark liquid sat
there, with two glasses nearby. Farden picked up the bottle and
wiggled the wooden stopper until it came free, and gave the liquid
a careful sniff. ‘As long as it’s not the blood of some poor local,
then yes, I would, please,’ he said, narrowing his eyes at his
friend. Durnus laughed, and gestured to the chair. Farden sat.
    Despite his tiredness the mage
remained holed up in Durnus’s room for the rest of the evening,
their tongues wagging over war, peace, murder and magick, washing
their words down with plenty of wine. After a while the night
stretched into early morning and Farden finally left the vampyre’s
room. His head spun with tiredness and long conversation. He could
feel himself starting down a trail of thought that he disliked very
much.
    The mage wandered through the
dark corridors of the Arkabbey and tried to calm himself.
    As Farden lay down on his cold
bed thoughts began to bounce around his head like insects around a
candle, second-guessing and doubts rife in his shallow dozing.
Smothered by the darkness of his