Read Online The Vlakan King (Book 3) by Jim Greenfield - Free Book Online Page B

never gone more than a day's walk from Peradon. Where do I go? Do we know where the Talos Company is? Uncle Loric's stories always said they wandered around the world. If I find them, why would they believe me?"
    "They do wander," said Brevin. "Loric Greyrawk is one of the Talos Company. But some have homes that they return to now and again. I know where a few of them live. I think Blackthorne would be the most likely choice as he travels infrequently with the company."
    "Blackthorne the sorcerer?" asked Davan.
    "I didn't meet him," said Jaele. "But I heard he is unpleasant."
    "That is true," said Brevin. "But he could also contact the others quickly. You will need Kerreth's involvement for the Talos Company to help. They will follow his lead without question. Blackthorne is your first step. I would strongly recommend it."
    "Where does he live?" asked Davan.
    "Calendia," said Brevin. "And that is where I am heading. You could travel with me. I am ready to leave immediately."
    Jaele nodded her head. "I'll pack the things you will need." She stood up. Davan grabbed her hand.
    "Mom, I'm not ready to leave home."
    "And I'm not ready for you to leave either, but the choice is not ours. You must take some large steps Davan. You must find Kerreth and find your father to cure him. I don't know what else to do."
    "Your choices are wise," said Brevin. "Trust me."
     
    Sneppe left the back door where he had heard their discussion. He walked back to his camp where his soldiers waited for him. Sneppe was burly man, scarred and prematurely aged. The camp was two hundred yards into the woods behind the inn. His men watched him approach but gave him no acknowledgment of rank; they had been together too long in too many difficult situations.
    "Dogbitter!"
    "Yeah sergeant?" Corporal Dogbitter stood a head taller than Sneppe, wiry with cold blue eyes.
    "Davan is heading west with Tarbin."
    "Do we go with him?"
    "No. We are still needed here. There might be more Vlakan hunting for them. The inn must be protected. Polesnap and Docaw. You follow Tarbin's wagon. He'll know you are there so no need to show yourselves. Try not to alarm Davan. Loric told him the Talos Company was protecting him but did not tell him about us."
    "Sergeant, I'm getting tired of this forest," said Pappa. "How much longer until we are relieved?"
    "Two weeks until Leto's squad arrives, but if more trouble comes we will remain longer."
    "I understand that, I just wanted a notion."
    "Who's on patrol now?"
    "Gileas and Linal," said Dogbitter. "They are taking opposite directions around the town."
    "Good. I want someone watching that back door to the inn at all times. The lower loading door can be seen at the same time. I was able to walk right into the inn and no one noticed. We can't have another Vlakan get through. Is that understood? The Talos Company does not fail."
    "Yes sergeant," said Dogbitter. "We would have caught the last one if Loric hadn't been here. He just moves too fast for us to keep up."
    "Yes, Gileas had seen the Vlakan first; Loric just outran her."
    "Just be sure we don't need Loric next time, because he isn't here. We have to stop the Vlakan assassins. Keep alert. I'm taking a nap."
    "We'll try not to wake you Sarge," said Pappa. "We'll kill the Vlakan quietly."
    "Good. See that you do."

Chapter 6
     
    The kingdom of Masina on the continent of Amloth was a jewel to behold. There lived more artisans in that kingdom than all Landermass combined and each artist worked with a passion not found in other kingdoms such as its neighbor Eslenda. On Anavar there were flourishes of culture now and again in Calendia, but not much in Wierland or Curesia. For their part, the Daerlan of Liannest kept to song and gardens in their creative efforts and the Tuors were very primitive in their arts and songs except for the fabled Culver of Paglo, a poet of no small renown. The Anetheans were sculptors, Zidar fine craftsmen in wood, but it was the Masinans who drew all