Read Online Beyond the Edge of Dawn by Christian Warren Freed - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christian Warren Freed
Ads: Link
tent.
“The Caliph will expect you at dusk. We have much to celebrate.”
Pirneon stood a while longer to watch Bradgen and his retinue slink off with Habrim in tow. The Satrap glanced towards Pirneon before they were lost in the crowd. Pirneon understood that no one was going to be killed at least until the banquet—for good or bad, he wasn’t sure. If his fears turned out to be realized, the enemy wasn’t going to wait very long to attack.
Sighing with frustration, Pirneon went inside. He didn’t like having his hands tied, but there seemed little he could do. This close to Adonmeia’s quarters and already under suspicion, his every action would be watched and closely monitored. No doubt, spies were already assuming their positions around his tent.
Barum looked up at the sound of his arrival. Young and with almost mousey brown hair, the squire was pleased to see his master return unharmed.
“We’ve been watched more closely of late,” Barum told him. “I think they are about to make their move.”
“Tonight,” Pirneon confirmed.
He was pleased with how quickly Barum had caught on to their situation. He was a good squire and well on the path to becoming a good knight.
Barum nodded. “I figured as much and already packed most of our equipment. The horses are prepared as well. There are enough rations to see us out of the desert.”
“Leaving might be more difficult than I had anticipated.”
Barum paused.
Pirneon continued, “Our beloved Adonmeia has arranged a victory celebration in my honor this evening.”
“Weapons restricted, no doubt,” Barum added. “I don’t like it. That worm Bradgen has been collecting more power ever since we arrived. He’s got the most loyal men and gold. This is a dangerous game.”
Pirneon folded his arms across his chest. “Agreed. This certainly gives new thought to the desert tribes being little more than barbarians. I also wouldn’t be surprised to find he has more troops loyal to him than to Adonmeia.”
“This will get bloody.”
“If we survive to see it through,” Pirneon agreed. “There’s more, though. My belief is that Habrim wanted to be captured. I have a feeling that, once he’s killed tonight, a vast army will sweep into camp to claim revenge.”
“But he was promised to be a political prisoner, not executed.”
Pirneon grinned. “Indeed he was. I hate to admit it, but I think we are in over our heads…again.”
“Worse than Antheneon?”
Pirneon laughed. “Much worse, and there’s no innocent princess involved this time. Any suggestions on how we might escape?”
“Not really. Even if this banquet is going to distract the rest of the camp, I can’t see him letting you just walk out. Adonmeia is a petty man.”
“Best get out my dagger vest. I’m going to need it.”
Barum grumbled under his breath but snatched up the vest already laid out on the simple folding wooden chair in the corner. The vest held a dozen three-inch blades, concealed and honed to razor sharpness. They’d saved Pirneon’s life on more than one occasion, and he hoped they would again tonight.
“The sooner we leave this place, the better,” Barum commented as he handed over the vest. “Can’t we find an easy job in a cooler climate next time?”
Pirneon stripped off his torn and stained tunic. “You’re forgetting one thing. First, we have to find a way out of this mess.”
He finished stripping out of his fouled clothes and headed for the private bath chamber he’d insisted on upon accepting this job. As usual, Barum had anticipated his needs. The bath was filled with lukewarm water, the best they could manage given the almost murderous heat in the middle of the desert. Pirneon was tall for a Gaimosian at almost six and a half feet and was forced to scrunch up to fit into the metal tub.
One of the older knights still alive, he’d been there from the beginning of the war until the Fall. After the breaking, Pirneon and a handful of others
“The Caliph will expect you at dusk. We have much to celebrate.”
Pirneon stood a while longer to watch Bradgen and his retinue slink off with Habrim in tow. The Satrap glanced towards Pirneon before they were lost in the crowd. Pirneon understood that no one was going to be killed at least until the banquet—for good or bad, he wasn’t sure. If his fears turned out to be realized, the enemy wasn’t going to wait very long to attack.
Sighing with frustration, Pirneon went inside. He didn’t like having his hands tied, but there seemed little he could do. This close to Adonmeia’s quarters and already under suspicion, his every action would be watched and closely monitored. No doubt, spies were already assuming their positions around his tent.
Barum looked up at the sound of his arrival. Young and with almost mousey brown hair, the squire was pleased to see his master return unharmed.
“We’ve been watched more closely of late,” Barum told him. “I think they are about to make their move.”
“Tonight,” Pirneon confirmed.
He was pleased with how quickly Barum had caught on to their situation. He was a good squire and well on the path to becoming a good knight.
Barum nodded. “I figured as much and already packed most of our equipment. The horses are prepared as well. There are enough rations to see us out of the desert.”
“Leaving might be more difficult than I had anticipated.”
Barum paused.
Pirneon continued, “Our beloved Adonmeia has arranged a victory celebration in my honor this evening.”
“Weapons restricted, no doubt,” Barum added. “I don’t like it. That worm Bradgen has been collecting more power ever since we arrived. He’s got the most loyal men and gold. This is a dangerous game.”
Pirneon folded his arms across his chest. “Agreed. This certainly gives new thought to the desert tribes being little more than barbarians. I also wouldn’t be surprised to find he has more troops loyal to him than to Adonmeia.”
“This will get bloody.”
“If we survive to see it through,” Pirneon agreed. “There’s more, though. My belief is that Habrim wanted to be captured. I have a feeling that, once he’s killed tonight, a vast army will sweep into camp to claim revenge.”
“But he was promised to be a political prisoner, not executed.”
Pirneon grinned. “Indeed he was. I hate to admit it, but I think we are in over our heads…again.”
“Worse than Antheneon?”
Pirneon laughed. “Much worse, and there’s no innocent princess involved this time. Any suggestions on how we might escape?”
“Not really. Even if this banquet is going to distract the rest of the camp, I can’t see him letting you just walk out. Adonmeia is a petty man.”
“Best get out my dagger vest. I’m going to need it.”
Barum grumbled under his breath but snatched up the vest already laid out on the simple folding wooden chair in the corner. The vest held a dozen three-inch blades, concealed and honed to razor sharpness. They’d saved Pirneon’s life on more than one occasion, and he hoped they would again tonight.
“The sooner we leave this place, the better,” Barum commented as he handed over the vest. “Can’t we find an easy job in a cooler climate next time?”
Pirneon stripped off his torn and stained tunic. “You’re forgetting one thing. First, we have to find a way out of this mess.”
He finished stripping out of his fouled clothes and headed for the private bath chamber he’d insisted on upon accepting this job. As usual, Barum had anticipated his needs. The bath was filled with lukewarm water, the best they could manage given the almost murderous heat in the middle of the desert. Pirneon was tall for a Gaimosian at almost six and a half feet and was forced to scrunch up to fit into the metal tub.
One of the older knights still alive, he’d been there from the beginning of the war until the Fall. After the breaking, Pirneon and a handful of others
Similar Books
