Read Online Beyond the Edge of Dawn by Christian Warren Freed - Free Book Online

short. Adonmeia would no doubt want to toy with his prisoner before killing him. That left Pirneon in a bad way. Compounding matters, he didn’t know whom he could turn to for trust. A final battle was about to play out, and he was trapped as deep as possible. What he needed was time, and that was one commodity he didn’t have.
    “On your feet! Get moving!” he barked.
    Better to get it over with now.

EIGHT
    Trapped
    The sun was already sweltering by the time Pirneon marched his men past the outer perimeter of Adonmeia’s camp. Dark-skinned soldiers stared angrily at the survivors of the raid. Pirneon paid no attention and marched with the pride and authority befitting one of his station. It was a natural arrogance born from years of violence. At the moment, he felt anything but. Sweat coated his body in a thick sheen, and his water was almost gone. It was already midday, and temperatures were well over one hundred degrees. Pirneon hated the desert and regretted his decision to leave one of his canteens with Habrim.
    A burly captain with golden torcs on his upper arms approached them. A large jewel-encrusted saber was tied in a red sash at his waist. Pirneon reluctantly halted his company.
    “Where’s the rest?” the captain growled. His displeasure at having to serve under one of the Vengeance Knights was obvious.
    Pirneon had no love for the man, for they had clashed once before. “Dead.”
    The captain eyed him suspiciously but didn’t push the confrontation. Pirneon brushed past with an air of authority and kept going. Sand had gotten into his boots and made for a very unpleasant walking experience. He was tired, filthy, and hungry. There’d be time to bandy words with common soldiers later. Right now, he still had a third of a league to go before reaching Adonmeia’s tents.
    More soldiers lined the avenue to watch them. None of the survivors had any fight left in them and walked by with hollow stares. There was no sense of victory. No pride in a job well done. Those watching could only guess at the horrors they’d seen the night before. All were secretly glad they hadn’t been selected for the mission. The only thing that inspired confidence was seeing Habrim shackled and in chains. With him here, they knew their long war was almost over.
    Pirneon ignored the stares and growing chorus of jeers. Prisoners such as Habrim deserved to be treated with more respect, he believed, but the man he worked for was a second-rate barbarian and inspired ignorance among his men. Howls of glee soon erupted from the throng of surrounding soldiers. Rocks and clumps of horse dung were flung at Habrim, striking several of their own people in the process. If Pirneon had his way, those responsible would each lose a hand.
    His thoughts continued to darken at the sight of the man pushing his way through the crowds to reach him. Standing at shoulder height, Bradgen was slight of build and far from imposing. His skin always appeared greasy, unkempt. His hair, jet black, ran down in a jagged line past his slender shoulders. The corners of his eyes were tucked and drawn back, giving him a sinister air. A thick moustache accompanied his long beard. His clothes were expensive and well tailored, suggestive of his standing. Pirneon despised the man and had no doubts that he would flee rather than be confronted in a fair fight. Pirneon knew Bradgen was one of the most vicious and sadistic men he’d ever encountered.
    The sheer duplicity in his smile told Pirneon all he needed to know.
    “Your mission was a success,” he said in a nasal voice.
    “At cost. We lost almost three quarters of our men,” Pirneon replied.
    “A minor consequence. You of all people should understand the need for sacrifice.”
    Pirneon remained silent, quietly comparing Bradgen and Habrim.
    “The Caliph will be pleased with this. Come, let us take the prisoner away and see to your rewards. I have a feeling your services will no longer be necessary now that