Black Spice (Book 3) by James R. Sanford Read Free Book Online Page B

couples wait for this day to get married.  It’s supposed
to be lucky.”
    Lerica
tapped Kyric on the shoulder.  “Did you get me a present?”
    “I’m
sorry.  I didn’t even think of it.”
    She
tried to make an exaggerated frown, but ended up giggling.  “I have one for
you.”  She dug in the pocket of her pack and pulled out a mass of wax with a
wick protruding from it.  It was different shades of brown.
    “It’s
a candle.  I made it from scraps,” she said.  “It was supposed to be
multicolored, but they all melted together.”
    “Thank
you.  We’ll light it together tonight,” Kyric said, his words sounding false
even as he spoke them.  Suddenly he was afraid that it would not come to pass.
    The
far side of the hills lay covered with stunted trees, and they wove a path
through them, trying to stay concealed as they went.  No one spoke.  When the
ground leveled out, Aiyan said, “Ready weapons.”  He unslung his longbow and
nocked an arrow.  Kyric did the same.  Lerica hadn’t wanted to lug her crossbow
the length of the island.  She had brought a fancy dueling pistol that Kyric
didn’t know she had, and now she drew it from her sash.  Mahai shrugged.  All
he had was his war club, and it was always in his hands.
    A
watery, gargling sound issued from Kyric’s abdomen, so loud that the others
stopped and looked at him.  Great.  I’m going to get us all killed because
my stomach can’t take red pepper .
    Mahai
led them down a ravine that took them to within a mile of the town.  A thick
belt of palms and broadleaf shrubs lay directly ahead of them.  The drums grew
louder, the beat remaining steady.  As the ravine began to shallow and open
into the woods, Mahai ducked, backing away.
    “A
dozen Hariji,” he whispered, “Guarding the main trail to the cassia grove, about
a hundred paces to the north.”
    Aiyan
took a peek.  “We’ll crawl till we get into the trees, one at a time.”
    They
crawled for a while, Kyric much more worried about these poisonous snakes he
hadn’t yet seen.  They stood when they reached an intersection of three narrow
game trails.  Aiyan held out an open hand in each direction, as if feeling for
a current.
    “All
these trails lead to danger,” he said.  “Let’s take the middle one.”
    They
walked carefully and quietly, Aiyan stopping every time they crossed an animal
path to reach out and feel the way to go.  At one point, he selected one that
curved behind them to the west, but then it doubled back.  He nodded to
himself, satisfied with the choice.  The drumming got louder, along with
distant voices, and they crept forward, one step at a time.  Aiyan halted,
dropping to one knee.  Kyric could see the sky through the trees ahead.
    A
number of rocky outcroppings thrust through the soft forest floor like the
knuckles of a giant hand.  One large boulder stood near the edge of the trees. 
They crawled up its backside and lay on their bellies, peering over the shrubs.
    Hundreds
and hundreds of men, at least a few thousand, filled a clearing more than a
furlong wide.  They had gathered in a huge circle, all facing a platform in the
center.  Soth Garo stood on the platform, mist curling from his bare arms as he
raised them in triumph.  He wore nothing more than a short chainmail skirt and
a gigantic sword strapped to his back.  His skin was white as bleached linen. 
Kyric had thought that his hair would be white too, but he had no hair at all.
    Two
men holding large sacks flanked him.  They were Baskillians, with military
boots and sabres in their sashes, but they also wore sleeveless tunics with a
strange fringe at their hems, crisscrossed with belts of human bones.  At first
Kyric thought that some kind of small helmet sat on top of their heads, then
one of them turned and he saw that it was a skull.
    Soth
Garo pulled handfuls of broken bones from the sacks and threw them to the eager
crowd like they were the wooden coins of