Warrior of the Ages (Warriors of the Ages) Read Online Free PDF

Surely his people would not object. Mercy was not killing. Plunging the stolen spear brutally upward, through flesh and muscle, forcing a path past bone he pierced beneath the ribcage of the soul hanging there.
    Unwilling to lift his eyes to the sight of this victim of scourging and torture, it wasn’t until blood and water ran thick and hot down his arm, splashing into his mouth, that he glanced up. And then the realization of what he had just done burned into his very being with blazing clarity. Longinus began to scream.
    Where am I? Am I blind? Dark sat on him. How did I get here? Longinus wanted to touch his eyes to be certain they were still there, but his body was shaking so violently he couldn’t feel his limbs. A cloak wrapped around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe. And blood…he felt it trickling down his face, over his lips, warm and salty. It was not his. Awareness of what he had done seared through him. His dishonor scorched lava hot in his veins, and the memory burned into the core of his being. There could be no atonement. Anguish formed a scream in his throat, but all that came out was a strangled sob. The pain in his heart should have turned every atom of his being to ash. He welcomed the pain. It was all the penance he could offer.
    Clarity came to Longinus in drops. It was night. He was not blind. The blood was actually sweat and it was all his. There was no cloak, only bedclothes twisted around his neck. Without the use of his arms or legs, he managed to turn, escaping the choke hold of damp sheets around his throat. He could breathe. Awareness of his limbs arrived slowly and he cautiously moved them in the strange bed. Memory synapse gelled. I am not on the hillside. I have not been called Longinus for millennia. Where am I now? Who am I this time? He sat up. Kahtar, I am called Kahtar this time.
     

     
    MOONLIGHT FLOODED HER bedroom on Pearl Street and Beth sat straight up, wide awake. After a moment she slid to the edge of the bed and felt around the floor with her toes until she located her slippers. Debating exactly what had roused her, besides hunger—which wasn’t unusual. It felt as though she’d been laughing really hard and she tried to remember what she’d been dreaming. It was vague, but it had involved friends that she didn’t have, and food, really good food that, in this little village, was as elusive as friends. Thudding across the hardwood floor in fuzzy, heeled slippers, she shoved the lid off a cooler and stared at the sad contents.
    The ice had melted and a container of strawberries floated in the water, she snagged it and crossed to the window. The late night rain had left stifling humidity in its wake and not even a breeze stirred the hot air. Kicking a long leg out the window she maneuvered onto the fire escape and tiptoed around the south side of the house to peek at the small house next door. She caught a whiff of something wonderful. It had to be a restaurant. As a matter of fact, she was fairly certain it had starred in her dream about food.
    In the moonlight she could tell that the restaurant’s hedges had been trimmed, and wondered when that had happened. Her own grass had become a sea of yellow dandelion, though she liked the overgrown look of her flowering bushes. Clusters of snowball flowers glowed creamy in the pale light, ghosting bright against dark leaves. Dropping soggy strawberries into her mouth, Beth breathed the scent of lilacs and joy settled through her so intense that her eyes watered.
    “Thank you,” she whispered into the night, wondering again why she was so happy in this place. Why she had spent an insane amount of money to buy this behemoth of a house sight unseen in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio? Where winters had to be miserable and even springtime was stormy and hot, and good food existed only in her dreams! Leaning against the newly painted wall, Beth slid down until she was sitting on the metal fire escape, propping her feet on the