Read Online A Rage in the Heavens (The Paladin Trilogy Book 1) by James A. Hillebrecht - Free Book Online

“Silence may buy you a golden coin, but noise will certainly get you a lot of trouble.”
    With that, she slipped quietly down the corridor and peered through the far door that led to the men’s section, and she wasn’t surprised to find no guards on duty; the Debtor’s Gaol was usually guarded only by bars. The lock on this door was as simple as the first, and she was soon walking slowly down the men’s corridor, carrying the bowls which made her seem as one of the cleaning wenches. The first cell held no familiar faces, nor did the second, but as she peered into the third, she spotted the young man she was seeking, lounging against the near wall.
    “Good morn to you, Jeremy,” she said. The man looked up, and his face flashed with momentary astonishment as he recognized his visitor. He quickly got his expression under control and came casually over to the bars, ignoring the curious glances of his own cell-mates.
    “Adella,” he said softly. “What in the name of wonder are you doing here?”
    “I’ve got some information I’d like to sell,” she answered simply. “Something the blue-bloods would be interested in. You think you might be able to handle that for me?”
    Jeremy’s eyebrows rose at the reference to the aristocracy.
    “I have a few contacts that might serve,” he said carefully. “What sort of goods are you offering?”
    Adella smiled. “Details on the fall of Carthix Castle to the Northing barbarians of Alacon Regnar.”
    Jeremy flinched, his eyes widening as the significance of the information dawned on him.
    “I may have a buyer for you,” he said quietly.
    * * * * *
    Shannon hurried along the eastern road through the pre-dawn darkness, racing both the sun and her father, the bedroll and backpack already chafing her shoulders, but she had no time to pause and adjust the straps. Every few minutes, she cocked her head, listening for the sound of hoof beats from behind, coming down the road from the village, the sign that she had lost her race. She was moving as quickly as she could, a steady jog which she had held for nearly an hour now, but the pace was beginning to tell, her light backpack growing heavier with every step, her breath a feeble dragon’s fire in the cold air. So far, she seemed to be winning, the only warning sounds the first calls of the sparrows and robins as they sensed the failing of the night and prepared their songs to welcome the morn.
    He won’t leave until first light, she told herself again, having no more success convincing herself. Darius had saddled Andros, his magnificent warhorse, late last night in preparation for an early departure, and she knew the stallion’s impatience would not be checked by something as minor as darkness. Even now, they might well be eating up the distance between them, charging along this very road, closing her lead with every stride.
    Her father was going to war. His abrupt announcement and short explanation upon his return from the woods should have staggered her, shocked her, but it fit too perfectly into the tension which had been building for the last week, the daunting sense of impending change.
    The anxious feeling which seemed to have found embodiment in the form of the great sword.
    That made Shannon swallow and quicken her pace, ignoring the protests of her already-straining lungs. Ever since Darius had returned with that fell weapon in his hands, she had been unable to get it out of her mind, its meaning and significance slipping into all her thoughts, as if its appearance had altered her fate as well as her Father’s. Cold and potent it lay in its scabbard, and though others might see no more than a bright blade, her eyes were keener. A deadly being in sword shape it was, as unlike its brethren as Darius was to other men, and as she had stared at it, some tie of blood had helped her to sense rather than hear that haunting voice which until then had spoken only in her father’s ears.
    Shannon shook her head again,