Read Online Beyond the Edge of Dawn by Christian Warren Freed - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christian Warren Freed
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Habrim is safely in our custody. I’m sure you are anxious to be on your way.”
“What about the remainder of the war?” Pirneon asked.
Bradgen paused just enough to arouse suspicion. “Events are underway to ensure the proper end is metered out. The Caliph will soon be crowned lord of the desert.”
They stared at one another a moment longer.
“But come,” Bradgen continued. “Enough talk of war and kings. You and your file are heroes now. I’m sure the Caliph will wish to reward you handsomely during the banquet this evening.”
“Banquet?”
“Yes. The Caliph felt, as did I, that your victory was inevitable and all should know of your courage and dedication to our people. Think of the boost in morale this will inspire among the ranks.”
Pirneon wasn’t overly concerned about morale. He was more worried about the enemy forces he was certain were gathering nearby like a terrible storm in the restless dune. It was only a matter of time before that storm struck. He doubted he or Barum would live long enough to witness it. Something in the way Bradgen’s narrow eyes stared at him as they wound through the camp unsettled him. Pirneon began searching for evidence of concealed archers strategically placed along their route of march. That Bradgen was armed and more than willing to kill him if the opportunity arose went without saying.
Pirneon was caught in a dangerous game well beyond his ability to undertake. He cursed his ill fortune. This was the third consecutive job that had ended poorly. He’d narrowly escaped the last job with his hide intact.
He briefly recalled when Adonmeia’s agents had first approached him in a border town in western Averon. Capture Habrim and end the war. That was his charter. It sounded simple enough, but even then he’d held reservations. Rulers were deceptive by nature, and Adonmeia was a master. It was his way or no way. There was little room for the free will of a Gaimosian in the new desert empire.
“Adonmeia had no way of knowing I would succeed,” he ventured.
“Name me one ruler you have come across who plans to fail,” Bradgen countered. “Kingdoms aren’t built on bodies. We need people to serve in our new empire. Habrim’s capture gives us that resource.”
“Slaves.”
“What’s in a name?” Bradgen smiled. “The important thing is that you were successful, and our plans can continue from here.”
Pirneon took ill at the thought of Habrim’s people being reduced to slavery. “What happens to Habrim?”
“That is for the Caliph to decide. Reinforcements are already pushing forward from the southern tribes. Perhaps you noticed the open areas in camp? The war will soon be over. Habrim is the catalyst.”
He was bragging now and probably felt there was justification for it. Pirneon knew escaping had just gotten deadlier. He ran over a dozen different scenarios, and none had worthwhile outcomes. His best bet lay in killing Adonmeia and Bradgen at the banquet and escaping in the confusion. However unlikely, it was still possible. He needed to get to Barum at once.
Hundreds of large canvas tents were being erected on either side of the avenue. They were clearly expecting the arrival of a massive amount of troops. A major offensive was about to begin, not the gentle subjugation Bradgen explained.
“What of my payment?” Pirneon asked after deciding he wasn’t to glean any more useful information.
“All monies will be paid as soon as the prisoner has a collar around his neck and is on his knees in front of the Caliph.”
Deciding there was no harm in risking it, Pirneon admitted, “I gave the Satrap my word he would not be killed.”
Bradgen paused. “Ah…did you? The ever-famous sense of Gaimosian honor. His fate is no longer in your hands, but rest assured all will be properly taken care of. Don’t trouble yourself over such a trivial matter. Habrim will be dealt with, and you will be on your way.”
They stopped outside of Pirneon’s
“What about the remainder of the war?” Pirneon asked.
Bradgen paused just enough to arouse suspicion. “Events are underway to ensure the proper end is metered out. The Caliph will soon be crowned lord of the desert.”
They stared at one another a moment longer.
“But come,” Bradgen continued. “Enough talk of war and kings. You and your file are heroes now. I’m sure the Caliph will wish to reward you handsomely during the banquet this evening.”
“Banquet?”
“Yes. The Caliph felt, as did I, that your victory was inevitable and all should know of your courage and dedication to our people. Think of the boost in morale this will inspire among the ranks.”
Pirneon wasn’t overly concerned about morale. He was more worried about the enemy forces he was certain were gathering nearby like a terrible storm in the restless dune. It was only a matter of time before that storm struck. He doubted he or Barum would live long enough to witness it. Something in the way Bradgen’s narrow eyes stared at him as they wound through the camp unsettled him. Pirneon began searching for evidence of concealed archers strategically placed along their route of march. That Bradgen was armed and more than willing to kill him if the opportunity arose went without saying.
Pirneon was caught in a dangerous game well beyond his ability to undertake. He cursed his ill fortune. This was the third consecutive job that had ended poorly. He’d narrowly escaped the last job with his hide intact.
He briefly recalled when Adonmeia’s agents had first approached him in a border town in western Averon. Capture Habrim and end the war. That was his charter. It sounded simple enough, but even then he’d held reservations. Rulers were deceptive by nature, and Adonmeia was a master. It was his way or no way. There was little room for the free will of a Gaimosian in the new desert empire.
“Adonmeia had no way of knowing I would succeed,” he ventured.
“Name me one ruler you have come across who plans to fail,” Bradgen countered. “Kingdoms aren’t built on bodies. We need people to serve in our new empire. Habrim’s capture gives us that resource.”
“Slaves.”
“What’s in a name?” Bradgen smiled. “The important thing is that you were successful, and our plans can continue from here.”
Pirneon took ill at the thought of Habrim’s people being reduced to slavery. “What happens to Habrim?”
“That is for the Caliph to decide. Reinforcements are already pushing forward from the southern tribes. Perhaps you noticed the open areas in camp? The war will soon be over. Habrim is the catalyst.”
He was bragging now and probably felt there was justification for it. Pirneon knew escaping had just gotten deadlier. He ran over a dozen different scenarios, and none had worthwhile outcomes. His best bet lay in killing Adonmeia and Bradgen at the banquet and escaping in the confusion. However unlikely, it was still possible. He needed to get to Barum at once.
Hundreds of large canvas tents were being erected on either side of the avenue. They were clearly expecting the arrival of a massive amount of troops. A major offensive was about to begin, not the gentle subjugation Bradgen explained.
“What of my payment?” Pirneon asked after deciding he wasn’t to glean any more useful information.
“All monies will be paid as soon as the prisoner has a collar around his neck and is on his knees in front of the Caliph.”
Deciding there was no harm in risking it, Pirneon admitted, “I gave the Satrap my word he would not be killed.”
Bradgen paused. “Ah…did you? The ever-famous sense of Gaimosian honor. His fate is no longer in your hands, but rest assured all will be properly taken care of. Don’t trouble yourself over such a trivial matter. Habrim will be dealt with, and you will be on your way.”
They stopped outside of Pirneon’s
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