Warrior Reborn Read Online Free PDF

that he was bound by some rough cloth as if he were a mummy. Bandages, perhaps?
    “And who might this great laird of yours be, this man who seeks to hire strangers to his cause?”
    “Torquil of Katanes,” one man said, his voice hushed. “Laird of the MacDowylt.”
    At last Chase’s eyes cooperated with his brain’s commands and opened. Not bandages but a woolen blanket covered him, wrapped around and under him. With a superhuman effort, he rolled himself from his stomach to his back, lying still when he finished, unable to do more than breathe through the weakness gripping his body.
    “Yer lad over there is moving around.”
    “So he is,” the original voice agreed. “Am I correct in assuming we’d be well paid if we were to choose to throw our lot in with this Katanes of yours?”
    “For yer service, he offers a full belly and a roof over yer head. He offers a home at Tordenet Castle.”
    The original speaker chuckled. “I’m quite capable of finding my own food and shelter, lads. That’s precious little incentive to raise my weapon in battle on your great laird’s behalf.”
    “He also offers silver,” a third voice added. “The amount of which will be dependent upon yer usefulness with that weapon you brandish about.”
    “Done, then,” the first man boomed. “How do we find our way to this Tordenet Castle of yours?”
    “You follow this trail. Two days’ ride to the northeast and you’ll come upon her. You canna miss her, for she gleams in the sunlight like a white jewel in the distance. Tell the guards that Artur, right hand to Ulfr, sent you.”
    “That I will, Artur, right hand to Ulfr. Go in peace.”
    Chase’s heart pounded as he lay there, his eyes blinking against the light. This was insane. Everything he’d heard was utter gibberish. He needed help, not some bad reenactment of Shakespeare.
    “So, you’re back from Hela’s clutches at last. Strong enough to sit up, are you?”
    The hand that grabbed Chase’s was massive, fitting for the massive man it belonged to.
    “Don’t try to stand yet, lad. Get your wits about you first. You’ve been out for quite some time. How is it you come to be here?”
    Excellent question.
    “Depends on where ‘here’ is,” Chase managed, his voice cracking as he looked around the clearing.
    Because wherever “here” was, it sure as hell wasn’t the least bit familiar.
    The big man poked at the campfire with a long stick before he sat down next to it. “ ‘Here’ is an easy day’s ride from the coast. Does that help?”
    The coast. How was that even possible?
    “Washington?” Chase croaked, reaching out to accept the flask the big man offered. Couldn’t be. That was over eight hundred miles from the Lazy J.
    He started to say as much but the drink burned down his throat in a cold rush, shutting off his breath for a moment, leaving him to suck air in between his teeth.
    “Not as I’ve heard it called, lad. Pictland it is. Or was, I suppose. Scotland, they call themselves now.”
    Scotland? A second drink hung in the back of his throat and he choked, coughing as the big man laughed and reached over to pound on his back.
    “Easy, lad. The mead is bit strong, but always good for what ails you.”
    He must be dreaming. None of this was possible, no matter how real it felt. The last thing he remembered was standing in his room, in the middle of an earthquake, his skin glowing with that crazy green light like some kind of . . .
    Chase’s mind froze as if he’d taken a slap to the face, an old memory shoving its way to the front of his thoughts.
    Green light exactly like his father had always described accompanying a burst of Faerie magic.
    Another memory followed on the heels of the first. The pounding chant of “Now, now, now!” in those last moments before he’d blacked out.
    A thrill of excitement tightened his chest. That shooting star had been a message sent for him, his father’s promise to him fulfilled. He just hadn’t