Read Online The Tomb of the Dark Paladin by Tom Bielawski - Free Book Online Page B

Lord
    "The lightning rained down in the courtyard and we were all forced to look away. When it stopped, Barthal and Sir Ederick were gone."
    Carym sighed heavily. 
    "What will you do, Bishop?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
    "What we must, to avoid war. But I fear we may have already started one." The bishop's voice was strained, his expression pained. He looked about the courtyard at the damage and the bodies of the dead Myrnnish folk who had also been under the sway of the hurkin. 
    "Hurkin are powerful wizards, Bishop. You couldn't have known."
    Bishop Rohan nodded in agreement, though his expression proved that he did not agree. He strode angrily to the black wagon with the red skull and crossed sword emblem on the door. Rohan flung open the door in anger and was going to climb in, but Carym climbed up ahead of him.
    "Empty," he said as he climbed inside to look. The interior of the wagon was nearly bare, save for a cot and a trunk. The trunk held only a few papers and the uniform of a wizard of the Hurkin Horde. Carym looked at the papers closely and tried to read them but they were written in the language of the Hurkin Horde, a dialect of Hurkrish spoken only by the hurkin military. He stepped down from the wagon and handed the papers to Bishop Rohan. "Do any of your intelligence agents know Hurkrish?"
    "Yes," he said, thumbing through the papers. Rohan ordered a nearby soldier to fetch someone named Hilket. "I'll have these analyzed by Hilket; he has been a most promising squire."
    "That name sounds hurkin," said Carym suspiciously.
    "It is," replied the bishop, sighing as he stuffed the papers inside his jacket. "Hilket has suffered at the hands both human and hurkin for grievances he never committed. Do not judge him."
    Carym nodded at the rebuke, it was well-deserved. "Where did Bart and Ederick go, Bishop?"
    "I don't know," he said, frustrated. "I recall a flash of light before they disappeared, but that's all." He nodded. "As much as it pains me to say so, you are right," the bishop said. "Delfyd Rhi blames the Hand for what happened. There have been other attacks in other towns throughout Myrnwell. Many have died at the hands of these werewolves. Delfyd Rhi said it is Zuhr's fault these spawn of the Shadowfyr have come to Myrnwell to hunt and kill its people."
    "More dead," he said with a heavy sigh. "Will it ever end?"
    "Indeed," agreed the bishop. "However, an entire squad of Delfyd's own men are dead; we lost only two. He believes the entire ordeal was contrived by us. The people in the great city of Obyn were never quick to support the Hand. And now with the appearance of werewolves and this," he waved his hand at the courtyard. "It will only be a matter of time before Delfyd gathers an army to confront us."
    "So we just run?" asked Genn, casting an angry glare at the bishop. Carym laid a restraining hand on her arm lest her quick temper earn her punishment; she shook free of him. "This is our home! I want to stay here, Carym. Here!"
    "There is little choice, I fear," said the bishop, choosing not to acknowledge the woman's lack of respect. "The Hand must leave Myrnwell too, we cannot risk a war that will endanger innocents and turn them against Zuhr."
    "You are abandoning us?" demanded Genn, actually stomping the ground in her frustration. "After all we have been through here? After we have devoted our lives to your cause?"
    "Please don't look at it like that, my child."
    "Don't 'my child' me!"
    "Genn, please!" urged Carym. "Remember who you are sworn to serve!"
    "It's alright, Carym. I understand her anger," offered the bishop. "But there is no time for consolation. You have to leave, now."
    "The bishop is right, Genn. It is time to leave, regardless of the circumstances."
    Genn scowled but said nothing more.
    "You must be careful, my son. Those werewolves are very dangerous and they will not stop hunting you."
    "And they are damned hard to kill," he growled.
    "Yes, I'm afraid they are. They always