Read Online Curse of Kings (The Trials of Oland Born, Book 1) by Alex Barclay - Free Book Online Page A

that he had to carry out for The Craven Lodge, after no more than four hours’ sleep. Because he had slept long and peacefully the previous night, he was wide awake. And he was still alone hours later when the candle finally burned out.
    A shaft of light eventually appeared at the bottom of the door, and the latch rattled again. Arthur Rynish, with a lantern in his hand, walked in.
    â€œI’m sorry, Oland,” he said. “It took longer than I thought.”
    â€œWhere did you go?” said Oland. “Why did you leave me here?”
    â€œThere was something not quite right on our journey here,” said Arthur. “It unsettled me. And I needed to make sure that we were safe.”
    â€œYou could have left me a note.”
    â€œWhat you are doing is dangerous, Oland. Were I to have left you a note, and you were discovered, a link would have been made between us. And that cannot happen. For you to carry out this quest, it must be alone.”
    â€œKing Micah’s letter said that I was to have a companion,” said Oland.
    â€œI don’t think you should,” said Arthur. “But that’s just my opinion. What I will tell you is that you cannot be connected to my brother or me. You don’t know the Rynishes, you’ve never heard of them – do you understand?”
    Oland nodded. “Why?”
    â€œStop,” said Arthur. “Stop asking questions. I’m telling you things for your own good, for the good of everyone. Say as little as possible, and you will remain in as little danger as possible.”
    â€œDanger?” said Oland. “Why? Do you think anyone else knows where I am going?”
    â€œJust my brother and I,” said Arthur. “And… had you considered… whoever left the letter for you?”
    Oland shook his head. “I hadn’t, no.”
    â€œRegardless,” said Arthur, “you are in danger, at the very least for leaving Castle Derrington – for running out on Villius Ren and The Craven Lodge.”
    Oland did not say that it had been very clear that Villius Ren wanted him dead.
    Â 
    The following morning, when Oland awoke, Arthur Rynish was sitting in the chair opposite him.
    â€œYour bag,” he said, pointing to the floor. “You left your bag in the cart.”
    Oland sat up and pulled the bag towards him. He wondered where the little monkey was. Was he still nearby?
    â€œEat and let’s go,” said Arthur. “We have many miles to travel before we reach the Dallen border.”

S THE NIGHTS PASSED , O LAND’S HOPE WANED . A RTHUR Rynish’s often sullen mood brought no comfort. Oland welcomed the brief stops in the deserted houses and outbuildings, and wondered who were the strangers that had left food for the tailor – always for one, never for two. Oland knew that, despite emerging from the shadow of The Craven Lodge, for now, he was still invisible. And when, over a week into their journey, they reached the official crossing between Decresian and Dallen, his invisibility was all he thought of as he buried himself under the canvas.
    There was just one route from Decresian into Dallen, and it was carved through the vast forest that separated them. A group of border guards was stationed in a small wooden building at the official border, but every traveller knew that there were guards hidden everywhere in the trees.
    As the horse slowed, Arthur whispered to Oland. “It’s Terrence Dyer from Garnish,” he said. “A merchant of misery, the greyest of men. Hard to believe he’s the son of Gaudy Dyer.”
    Arthur brought the horse and cart to a stop.
    â€œThe Tailor Rynish,” said Terrence grimly. “Welcome, again, welcome.”
    â€œThank you, Terrence,” said Arthur. “How are you?”
    â€œIn the throes of life,” said Terrence.
    â€œHow’s your father?” said Arthur. “It must be thirteen years since he left