Read Online Dark Magic by B. V. Larson - Free Book Online

him and there was no fear in their eyes when he met them.
    That changed when he reached the last outpost, a simple rickety wooden watchtower that was really just a covered platform on stilts made of four pine logs. Up on top of the watchtower, the single guardsmen waved them to stop before following the road into the Deepwood.
    The companions stopped, but Brand was annoyed.
    “What’s the problem? Is this not a free road, or has some council seen fit to levy a tax on people exiting the Haven?”
    “No sir,” the guardsman called down nervously. “I would only like you to wait to see what they want.”
    They followed the pointing arm of the blue-cloaked guard. Behind them came a small patrol of four horsemen. They came at a gallop.
    They waited, and Brand felt a mix of emotions. If they brought word that he was needed here at home, that would indeed form a conflict within him. But part of his mind hoped they would bring bad news. That part of him shifted excitedly on his back and stuck its handle out into the cold wintery air.
    As they drew up kicking mud, he realized one of the blue cloaks was Freya. The horses snorted, stamped and blew out plumes of white steam.
    “Well, what do you want?” demanded Tomkin from his high perch. Brand for the first time wondered why they had brought the manling along. All he had done thus far was weigh down their horse.
    The commander of the patrol looked shocked and eyed Tomkin distrustfully. When he spoke, he made no mention of Tomkin, however. People must have learned by this time that Brand kept strange company.
    “Ah, milord,” said the leader, who wore the insignia of a captain. “Sorry for the intrusion. I’m the local commander of the Hamlet garrison. Might I ask if your presence here indicates some kind of... problem?”
    Brand shook his head. “No, I’m not here to slay some new giant, if that’s what you are worried about, captain. We are just passing through into the Deepwood. We are on our way into the west on a diplomatic mission.”
    “The west? That must mean the Kindred, then. Few travelers dare the journey to the Black Mountains these days.”
    “We’ll be fine,” said Brand with confident smile.
    The captain chuckled. “I’m sure of that. But let me ask you something. If you happen to find evidence of a lost child, would you please check on it for us?”
    “What child?” asked Telyn.
    “A boy, less than ten years old. He’s been missing for three days. We have hope, but in our hearts we fear the worst.”
    “Have you searched the forests for him?” asked Telyn.
    The captain looked regretful. “We have, but few dare to go more than a mile into the Deepwood these days. For the most part, men have walked along the borders of the forest and shouted. In days past we would have mounted a company of searchers, but now even the bravest trappers run out of the trees when they see their own shadows.”
    “I understand,” said Brand, nodding. “We’ll keep an eye out.”
    “What’s the boy’s name?”
    “Ari. He’s of the Sacken clan.”
    They bade them farewell. Freya was the last to leave, giving them a final wave.
    As they turned back to face the Deepwood, Brand’s face turned to a scowl. They had not yet managed to enter the shadowy gloom beneath the trees and already they’d heard tales of evil. Looking at the forest, he could feel the presence of the place. It was not like the Haven wood. Somehow, these trees were darker of aspect, taller, less clean. The wood itself did not seem rotted or diseased, far from it; the trees were bigger and thicker. But there was less birdsong and fewer fresh scents. What sounds there were seemed to be furtive ones, from creatures that rustled about, hidden in the lush undergrowth. The scents too, were of unwholesome dankness, as if the swollen trunks of the trees and the thickets that grew in profusion beneath their spreading branches were only the surface. As if things more noisome, moist and laden with fungus