Read Online The Grave Thief: Book Three of The Twilight Reign by Tom Lloyd - Free Book Online Page A

was lying as though fighting them. The pungent smell of sweat hung in the air, for the heavy drapes covering the window to keep in the warmth also kept the air close and stale.
    Guilt slithered down Isak’s spine again. Horman’s left hand had been amputated at the wrist and the wound refused to heal fully. His right elbow had been repaired after a fashion, and the old injury to his knee was only marginally worse, but it was the overall effect of a daemon’s possession that had taken the greatest toll on his father’s health. He had wasted away in the weeks following the fall of Scree until he looked as pale and weak as a corpse. The effort required for eating proved too much for him most days and he rarely managed more than a couple of mouthfuls.
    ‘Is this how they’ll all end up?’ Isak muttered, ‘all broken and beyond the help of healers? Maybe tonight’s death-omen will be the saving of my friends.’
    Outside the door he heard the sharp click of halberds on the stone floor: his guards were letting him know that a friend had arrived; anyone else would have warranted a verbal greeting. He shut the door to his father’s room and rubbed his hands over his face to wake himself up.
    ‘My Lord?’ Tila said as she entered cautiously, Count Vesna at her elbow. Both were still in their formal clothes, although Tila had a thick woollen blanket draped over her layered grey silk dress now. She’d taken out the gold flower-head pins she’d used to put her hair up and the long dark tresses now spilled down to her waist.
    ‘You were waiting up for me?’
    ‘The guard on the gate let us know when you returned,’ Tila said, coming into the room and casting a glance towards Horman’s door.
    ‘He’s fine.’ Isak could see she was itching to ask about where he’d been, but she understood her position within his inner circle. As Duke of Tirah, Isak’s word was law, and they all had to adjust to that.
    ‘My Lord?’ Vesna echoed Tila, his eyes also fixed on the white-eye.
    The maid caught the count’s tone and, with a curtsey to Isak, hurried out without even waiting to catch Tila’s eye. When the door was shut, Isak removed his tunic and Eolis before throwing a few more logs onto the fire.
    ‘Isak,’ Vesna said, dropping the formality once they were alone, ‘you look troubled.’
    ‘My friend, when can you last remember me any other way?’
    ‘Enough of that,’ Vesna said firmly. ‘What happened at your meeting?’ The count was without his broadsword but his tunic was fastened up to the neck, as it had been earlier.
    The white-eye paused; there was something different about the famous warrior. He thought for a moment. ‘You’re not wearing your earrings,’ he commented, pointing to Vesna’s left ear where the count normally wore his two gold earrings of rank. ‘I hope my return didn’t disturb anything important?’
    ‘No, my Lord,’ Vesna said in a flat voice.
    ‘Good. She’s still unmarried, you remember?’
    ‘Yes, my Lord,’ Vesna replied, refusing to rise to Isak’s needling.
    ‘Isak, what’s happened?’ Tila asked, firmly changing the subject. ‘Is everything all right?’
    The white-eye sat heavily into a chair facing the pair. With all the chaos of Scree’s aftermath, they had yet to officially announce their betrothal. There was a grim mood throughout the city, made worse by the onset of winter. He knew they would happily forego the state wedding offered by Lord Bahl - and by him - but neither one wanted to broach the subject until the period of mourning had finished. The Farlan had lost many soldiers, men and women, and the urns were stacked high in the Temples of Nartis. There had been no comforting words from the priests to disperse the anger and resentment which lingered like a black cloud.
    ‘You know about my dreams,’ Isak said eventually. ‘It was a reminder of those.’
    ‘What sort of reminder?’ Tila said, suddenly alarmed.
    ‘One that made an impression. But