Read Online River of Spears (Kingdom's Forge Book 0) by Kade Derricks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kade Derricks
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advantage. He had been chosen to guard a valuable asset. They needed him. Needed his skills. He let the silence hang, squeezing for information.
One of the advisers cleared his throat, about to interject. Balerion cut him off with a raised hand.
“We’ll make a run in the next day or two, after we gather some food and before the grass can grow much taller. When we break we’ll run as fast as we can, keeping the Riders under cover, and then use them to burn the rest of the way out.”
“Flee?” It was Tindall. “If we but wait them out, help will arrive. General Reiken will bring aid.”
“Your father cannot save us,” one of the observers spoke up. “How will he get here? Even we didn’t know our final destination until the Riders found a city, and there are hardly any Riders left.”
“Jyrle is correct.” Balerion answered. “Help isn’t coming. We are on our own here, and if we are to survive we must help ourselves. That does not include waiting. We cannot afford to divide our attention now. We must move as one, every man together, to reach the river.
“Nico, please introduce yourself. This is the man I told you about,” Balerion continued.
Near the back of the room, a pair of figures emerged from the shadows. Dain chastised himself. He hadn’t noticed them there. Perhaps that hangover wasn’t quite as nonexistent as he’d thought.
Both Riders remained covered head to toe in wrappings, though their clothing was brown and tan and green now instead of black and scarlet. Only their eyes and fingers were exposed. After seeing the flames leap from their hands he understood why they wouldn’t want anything flammable there. Jensen wore his usual three armbands over his arm and Nico one.
Neither offered a handclasp, and Dain wasn’t offended. Probably worried about damaging their delicate instruments of death.
Dain hadn’t seen a Rider this close since meeting Lupal and Nico the day after their arrival and he was struck again by their small stature. Jensen, the larger of the two would still be sixty pounds lighter than himself and half a foot shorter.
“Nico is now under your care. Keep him safe until we return to the river. He and Jensen are our best chance at surviving this,” Balerion said.
“How’s this going to work if he can’t speak? It’s going to be difficult to protect someone who can’t understand me.”
“I understand you just fine, paladin. And I just choose not to speak.”
The voice sounded strange—oddly false—and higher in pitch than Dain had expected. Common must not have been the Riders’ native language.
“Follow Dain back to his adobe and rest, Nico,” Jensen said in the same odd tone.
Balerion turned to Dain. “For now you and your men are excluded from all other duties. Stay in one of the adobes adjacent to this one. The Tyberons might discover that two Riders remain. They will come for them. Be sure you are ready.”
The grass was knee-high when they made their break for freedom.
Hardly anyone rode—the spearmen had struck the night before and killed all but a handful of the horses. The remaining horses had been confiscated to draw the supply wagons and for a select few outriders. So they walked. They walked for a day and a night before stopping, and the sea of grass rose another two inches. Balerion signaled for the halt and, after a full day of marching, Dain, Tindall, and the others dropped.
No one spoke. Several of the men rubbed their feet and legs. Though his feet may not have agreed, Dain preferred to walk at this point. Those riding were assigned to the outside edges and were the most likely to draw Tyberon spears first. He and the remnants of the patrol were in the army’s center. Nico was too precious to risk at the outer edge. The Pyre Rider was to be kept safe, like a swaddling babe in the patrol’s arms.
“Water,” Dain said. “Be sure you drink enough water or you’ll cramp. There’s salt in the dried pork. Take your day’s
One of the advisers cleared his throat, about to interject. Balerion cut him off with a raised hand.
“We’ll make a run in the next day or two, after we gather some food and before the grass can grow much taller. When we break we’ll run as fast as we can, keeping the Riders under cover, and then use them to burn the rest of the way out.”
“Flee?” It was Tindall. “If we but wait them out, help will arrive. General Reiken will bring aid.”
“Your father cannot save us,” one of the observers spoke up. “How will he get here? Even we didn’t know our final destination until the Riders found a city, and there are hardly any Riders left.”
“Jyrle is correct.” Balerion answered. “Help isn’t coming. We are on our own here, and if we are to survive we must help ourselves. That does not include waiting. We cannot afford to divide our attention now. We must move as one, every man together, to reach the river.
“Nico, please introduce yourself. This is the man I told you about,” Balerion continued.
Near the back of the room, a pair of figures emerged from the shadows. Dain chastised himself. He hadn’t noticed them there. Perhaps that hangover wasn’t quite as nonexistent as he’d thought.
Both Riders remained covered head to toe in wrappings, though their clothing was brown and tan and green now instead of black and scarlet. Only their eyes and fingers were exposed. After seeing the flames leap from their hands he understood why they wouldn’t want anything flammable there. Jensen wore his usual three armbands over his arm and Nico one.
Neither offered a handclasp, and Dain wasn’t offended. Probably worried about damaging their delicate instruments of death.
Dain hadn’t seen a Rider this close since meeting Lupal and Nico the day after their arrival and he was struck again by their small stature. Jensen, the larger of the two would still be sixty pounds lighter than himself and half a foot shorter.
“Nico is now under your care. Keep him safe until we return to the river. He and Jensen are our best chance at surviving this,” Balerion said.
“How’s this going to work if he can’t speak? It’s going to be difficult to protect someone who can’t understand me.”
“I understand you just fine, paladin. And I just choose not to speak.”
The voice sounded strange—oddly false—and higher in pitch than Dain had expected. Common must not have been the Riders’ native language.
“Follow Dain back to his adobe and rest, Nico,” Jensen said in the same odd tone.
Balerion turned to Dain. “For now you and your men are excluded from all other duties. Stay in one of the adobes adjacent to this one. The Tyberons might discover that two Riders remain. They will come for them. Be sure you are ready.”
The grass was knee-high when they made their break for freedom.
Hardly anyone rode—the spearmen had struck the night before and killed all but a handful of the horses. The remaining horses had been confiscated to draw the supply wagons and for a select few outriders. So they walked. They walked for a day and a night before stopping, and the sea of grass rose another two inches. Balerion signaled for the halt and, after a full day of marching, Dain, Tindall, and the others dropped.
No one spoke. Several of the men rubbed their feet and legs. Though his feet may not have agreed, Dain preferred to walk at this point. Those riding were assigned to the outside edges and were the most likely to draw Tyberon spears first. He and the remnants of the patrol were in the army’s center. Nico was too precious to risk at the outer edge. The Pyre Rider was to be kept safe, like a swaddling babe in the patrol’s arms.
“Water,” Dain said. “Be sure you drink enough water or you’ll cramp. There’s salt in the dried pork. Take your day’s
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