Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)
Page 58
The Soldier turned his head towards the door he was guarding. The stone entryway to the Tomb of the Moon was sealed completely shut, and had not been opened since the funeral of Azbaar Ingel. He leaned his ear closer, trying to hear inside of the tomb. Had he actually heard a noise from inside? Impossible, he convinced himself. Nothing in the Tomb of the Moon was alive. It was sealed so tightly that not even the vermin that inhabited every inch of Precedin could penetrate its shell. The Soldier shook the silly thoughts out of his head and returned to his post, looking out upon the mighty city.
Since the appearance of the bridge of bone over Lake Moonsong, Precedin had changed. There was not a single soul that had slept peacefully since the storm, knowing that the armies of Dargon were likely on the move. The citizens had fled the city by the thousands, clogging the gates and streets with carriages and horses, leaving their homes behind for Dargon to claim. Only those stubborn, or brave enough to fight, had stayed in the city. The army barracks were full of soldiers and militia, but others would be needed to bring medical aid and supplies to the front lines, and to quench the many fires that would consume the city when a siege began in earnest.
A great sigh escaped the Soldier's mouth. How he longed to be one of the men leaving the city with their family, heading for the safer western cities. Alas, duty would keep him at his post for the remainder of his life, for a guardian of the Tomb of the Moon was bound to its protection until death claim him or another take his place. He suddenly turned his head again. Was his imagination betraying him or had he actually heard something from behind the large stone door? This was the only entrance to the dark chambers of the tomb, and it had not been opened since Azbaar's death. Impossible, he convinced himself once more and then returned to his post.