Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3) by Chris Hollaway Read Free Book Online Page A

thick layers of dust, and a ramp that led down into darkness.
    Bertus unbarred the door to let more light in, and peered down the ramp, into the gloom that extended to the end of his vision.
    A pile of torches lay on a small table. Aside from a handful of tools hanging from pegs on the wall, the table was the only furnishing in the building.
    Bertus returned to the horse, and retrieved flint and steel from his saddlebags. Once back in the barn, he lit a torch, and started down the ramp.
    Cautious at first, the uniformity of the downward track eased part of the Seeker’s concern, while intensifying his interest. The stonework was reminiscent of the Dwarven Hold, but Bertus guessed that it was much older.
    The ramp turned to the northeast, and leveled out. The smooth stone became uneven, like walking on tree limbs laid side by side. Bertus looked down, and saw the smooth stone cylinders he stood upon. He kicked at one, and nearly fell as it turned forward, and the ones he stood on slipped in reverse, sliding him back.
    Steadying himself against the wall, he felt, more than heard, a drumbeat fading into the distance. A faint glow down the tunnel was almost lost in the torchlight. Bertus crushed the lit end of the torch against the wall, putting it out. Through the smoke of the extinguished torch, he could still see the receding light. The tempo of the drumbeats was more noticeable now that the flames of the torch were not hissing in his ear.
    After two minutes of staring after the departed wagon, the tunnel was dark and silent. The only glimpse of light came from the bend in the tunnel behind him.
    Treading carefully until he reached the smooth stone of the ramp, Bertus retreated into the barn, barring the large door and exiting out the back. Coming around the corner of the barn, he noted the sun beginning to sink behind the corn, and wondered if he would be able to make it back to town before full dark, rejoin his charges before too much time passed.
    “At least we found out how he got here so fast,” Bertus chuckled, patting down the bag after replacing the tools he’d taken from it. He scratched the horse’s mane, and moved to unhitch it from the rail.
    “Ah really wish ye hadn’t.”
    Bertus looked over to the doorway of the house, into the sights of a loaded Dwarven crossbow. “Britger-Stoun? I thought it was you.”
    “Hero.” The dwarf harrumphed, lowering his weapon slightly. “Ye’ve seen more than ye should have. More than any man.”
    “I’ve stood before the Seat of the Earth, and mocked your king.”
    The crossbow drooped further.
    “I’ve helped a heretic Mage advance through the ranks of the Warrior’s Guild. Peeking into your barn is the least of my sins.” Seeing no further reaction, he continued. “Kylgren-Wode and Rhysabeth-Dane sail to the east with my companions. I was sent to collect my friend’s family.”
    “I was sent to buy grain,” the dwarf grumbled, scratching the puckered ridge that tracked across his right jawline. “Several loads of it.”
    Bertus’s mind swam. “If this is even your second load, the trip takes what? One day each direction?”
    Britger nodded, swinging the weapon down, removing Bertus from danger. “The world cannot know of this. If they knew the places…”
    “Your people bear us no ill will,” Bertus shook his head. “Your uncle has sent advisors to assist us. Wondrous as this secret is, it is yours to keep. It’s a pity that tunnel does not lead to the south, though.”
    Britger-Stoun held fast for a few moments before the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.
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    “I still don’t like it,” Martin said as the blindfold tightened about his face. His and Alma’s hands were already bound behind them, and another dwarf worked at covering her eyes.
    “Ye’ll be freed once we’re on our way, in the tunnels. Nothing to see there.” Britger laughed.
    Martin sat back against the bale of hay and appeared to relax, leaning into Alma, who was