The horses hesitated at the bridge, confused, and Markal and Nathaliey had to coax them onto the stone path and up to the height of the arch as it curved over the gurgling waters of Blossom Creek. The water level was lower than Markal had ever seen, but it was still flowing for now.
Memnet stopped them at the top of the bridge. “Stay south of the Tothian Way. Avoid Veyrian scouts, and most of all, don’t let the marauders spot you. I don’t know what they are, or the extent of their powers, but they have magic about them, perhaps equal to your own.”
“Understood,” Markal said.
“Jethro has been digging in the library for information. If he finds anything, I’ll seek a way to get it into your hands.”
“How will you do that?” Nathaliey asked. “We’ll be hidden, and we’re leaving Aristonia behind.”
“There’s nothing west of here but army camps and bandits,” Markal added. “And in the mountains, griffins, giants, and other dangers. You can hardly send word by mounted courier.”
“If it’s necessary, I’ll find a way,” Memnet said. “Now,” he added, clapping them each on the shoulder, “I bid you best wishes. Find the order of paladins. Get the sword into their hands and make sure they know its lore.”
He left them. As he came down off the bridge on his way back to the gardens, something glittered in his hand with reflected light. The orb. Was he playing with it, or had he started to rebuild his magic?
“Well then, here we go,” Nathaliey said when she and Markal had led their horses down the other side and off the bridge. “Say goodbye to soft beds and hot meals. To feet that don’t ache and to uninterrupted sleep.”
“It could be worse,” Markal said. “Last time you crossed the bridge you were running for your life.”
“And I’m with you—that’s an improvement over my former company.” She grinned. “And by that, I mean, thank the Brothers that I’m not traveling with Chantmer.”
“Imagine a journey of three hundred miles with Chantmer as your only company.”
“Imagine it? I’ve done it!” Nathaliey said. “Well, maybe not alone, but close enough. We went to Veyre three years ago, just the two of us and a pair of acolytes who were well cowed and stayed out of his way as much as they could. That left me to suffer Chantmer’s attention, such as he granted me.”
“Narud isn’t such great company, either,” Markal said. “Not unless he spots a bird with unusual plumage or some unknown insect, and then he won’t shut up.”
She grinned at this, and he felt a flood of affection for her. So much had changed between them, from Nathaliey’s growing power to Markal’s supposed elevation to the rank of wizard, but their easy familiarity had not dimmed.
“All right then,” Nathaliey said. “On we go. Griffins and marauders and who knows what else await us. Should be delightful.”
And with that, Markal and Nathaliey continued up the road, on their way to the barbarian kingdoms of the west. The gardens of Memnet the Great receded in the distance behind them.
-end-
Thank you for reading The Red Sword. If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon to help others discover the series.
The trilogy continues with book #2, The Black Shield. To receive notice when my next book is released, visit my web page to sign up for my new releases list, and get a free copy of the first book of the related fantasy series, The Dark Citadel, as a welcome. This mailing list is not used for any other purpose, and your email will never be sold or distributed.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Red Sword (The Red Sword Trilogy Book 1) Page 28