Read Online Darkness Rising: Disciples of the Horned One Volume One (Soul Force Saga Book 1) by James Wisher - Free Book Online Page B

yourself with this tantrum.”
    “Stay out of this, old man. I’m going to teach this snot you can’t insult the heir to the North and get away with it.”
    Sig ran toward him, arms out wide. It appeared he planned to crush Damien like a great bear. Damien waited, perfectly at ease, until the last second when he dodged left, grabbed Sig’s outstretched arm and dropped his full bodyweight to the sand. He dragged Sig down with him, twisted his arm and wrenched it up, stretching the shoulder joint just short of dislocation. He planted his knee in his opponent’s back. Under him Sig groaned.
    “It’s not fair,” the giant boy whimpered. “I’m the strongest.”
    “Strongest?” Damien stood up and pulled his tunic off. A gasp from behind him said Ann saw the scars crisscrossing his back from his failure to master iron skin. His chest sported a matching set. “You dare claim to be strong yet you haven’t got a single scar. Your master didn’t train you, he let you play with a sword and told you you were a soldier. We’re done here. Leave me and my friends alone or so help me I’ll send you to the healer for a month.”
    Sig buried his face in the sand and his body shook. Damien slipped his tunic back on and walked away. The last thing he wanted was to sit and listen to the boy cry.
    Ann came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? Your back…”
    “I’m fine and the scars are old.” He looked at his feet, embarrassed that he’d lost control. “Thanks for standing with me.”
    “You didn’t need much help. I feared I might have to carry you out of the arena.”
    Damien smiled and held out his arm. “Your confidence in my skills warms my heart.”
    She linked arms with him and they walked out of the arena together.

Chapter 13
    D amien sat on the edge of his bed holding his sister’s letter and read it again. He’d been studying at The Tower for a little over three years and would be taking his final exam in an hour. Ann said she had no doubt he’d pass with flying colors and have all his restrictions removed. That would be nice since Jen wanted him to come home for the summer solstice the day after tomorrow and celebrate with her and Dad. Unless the masters removed his restrictions he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the tower.
    He grimaced and tossed the parchment on his desk. It would be great to see Jen and Lizzy again, but he didn’t know what sort of reception to expect from Dad. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Now that there was no chance of him becoming a warlord there’d be no pressure on either of them. They could just be father and son rather than master and student.
    A quick pace around his little room did nothing to relieve his anxiety. He stopped in front of his footlocker, dug out a pair of thin leather gloves, tossed his tunic on the bed so it wouldn’t get sweaty, and pulled on the gloves. A pair of curved sabers appeared in the air in front of him. Damien grasped the hilts and ran through some basic forms. He’d discovered after his duel with Sig that if he wore gloves he could grip weapons he conjured himself, as long as they didn’t actually touch his skin.
    He leapt, spun, and twisted, swirling the blades around his body. Lost in the movements, his worries fled to the back of his mind and vanished, at least for a few minutes. A thin sheen of sweat soon covered his chest. Though he’d never be fast enough to stand toe to toe with a warlord, Damien felt pleased that he’d maintained his form for three years without a sparring partner.
    After a couple of minutes he stopped and blew out a breath. “Enjoying the show?”
    “I didn’t think you’d noticed me.” Ann pushed the door the rest of the way open and sauntered in. She wore one of her typically snug, low-cut dresses. “With everything a sorcerer can do, why do you insist on using those swords?”
    Damien reabsorbed the energy in the blades, stripped off his gloves, and dug a towel out of his trunk.