Read Online Frostborn: The Iron Tower by Jonathan Moeller - Free Book Online Page B

this. None of my ravens will go anywhere near the thing, and they reacted much the same to the standing stones of the dark elves.” 
    “I can hardly blame them,” said Ridmark. “I don’t want to go near the thing.” 
    “Yet here we are,” said Morigna.
    Ridmark nodded, his eyes turning back toward the Iron Tower.
    “Why?” said Morigna. 
    He blinked. “Pardon?”
    “Why are you doing this?” said Morigna. 
    “I should think that obvious,” said Ridmark.
    “No,” said Morigna. “You owe me a straight answer.”
    “Why?”
    She smiled. “Because you have seen me naked.”
    To her delight, that seemed to discomfort him. Even embarrass him. Perhaps he had liked what he had seen.
    “In fairness,” said Ridmark, “you were covered with so much paint at the time that I barely saw anything.”
    “So you were trying to see past the paint, then?” said Morigna. 
    For a moment he met her eyes without blinking, and Morigna felt something electric shoot down her spine.
    She had to look away first.
    “As amusing as this discussion is,” said Ridmark, “we have more important matters at hand.”
    “No, we do not,” said Morigna. “Why are you doing this?”
    “Doing what, exactly?”
    “All of this,” said Morigna. “Trying to stop the return of the Frostborn. Trying to rescue an assassin of the Red Family from the Iron Tower. Trying to get back the soulstone and help Calliande find her memory and this Dragonfall of hers. Why do all of it?” 
    He was silent. 
    “You do not have to,” said Morigna. “Why are you fighting to save the realm from the Frostborn? The realm turned on you and cast you out.” 
    “Because I deserved the banishment and more,” said Ridmark, “because I deserved death for what happened to…”
    “You did not, you idiot,” said Morigna. “Mhalek killed your wife. Aye, and do not dare accuse me of not understanding. I saw Nathan Vorinus die, but the urvaalg killed him, not me. Mhalek killed your wife, you fool. He would have killed her regardless of what you did.”
    His eyes narrowed. “You don’t…”
    “I have gotten the entire story out of the others,” said Morigna. “If you had not been a Swordbearer, Mhalek would have outpaced you to Castra Marcaine and killed her, and you could have arrived to find her corpse.” A muscle twitched in Ridmark’s jaw. Part of Morigna’s mind noted that pushing him like this was probably a bad idea, but she was too angry to care. Ridmark Arban was the boldest warrior, the strongest man, that she had ever met, and the fact that he hated himself due to the calumnies of his inferiors infuriated her. “Do you think Mhalek wanted to escape? Or to bargain for his life? No, he knew he was finished. So he determined to make you suffer as much as possible. That was why he linked his blood to Aelia’s. Not to escape. To make you pay.”
    “And how,” said Ridmark, his voice a soft rasp, “could you know that?”
    Morigna shrugged. “Because if I was defeated, I would try to make my foes suffer as much as possible before I perished.” She poked him in the chest. She expected him to grab her arm and push her away, but he remained motionless. “So do not throw your life away for naught. Calliande might sing you sweet words about continuing to live, and one is sure Brother Caius could give you a sermon about the evils of suicide. But I will give you a harder truth, Ridmark Arban. Mhalek killed thousands of people and murdered your wife. Throw away your life to atone for imaginary mistakes, and you shall give Mhalek his final victory.” 
    “Then what,” he said, “would you have me do, hmm? Turn my back on Jager and Mara and Calliande? Let Shadowbearer do what he wills with the soulstone? The Old Man was Shadowbearer’s servant. What he tried to do to you is what Shadowbearer will do on a larger scale to the whole world if he brings back the Frostborn.”
    “I would have you take what is yours,” said Morigna. “You