Cold Redemption by Nathan Hawke Read Free Book Online Page B

to the ones Oribas had so happily left behind. They slept not long after
sunset and rose again early in the morning, reaching a hamlet by the middle of the day that was little more than a dozen houses and barns. Addic talked to one of the Marroc, who nodded and pointed
and made a sign against evil, and Oribas didn’t need to hear a word to understand perfectly.
Shadewalker. That way
. So they set off across snow-covered fields, all of them more
upright in their saddles now. Jonnic held his head craned forward, making little jerking movements from side to side. Addic’s foot twitched. About a mile from the hamlet they stopped at the
edge of a dense stand of pines, black against the mottled mountainside, and Addic pointed. ‘It’s in there.’
    ‘I’ve never faced a shadewalker before,’ Oribas told him. ‘I know what they are and I know what will stop one but I’ve never faced one.’ Shadewalkers
preferred dark places. Places with no sun, which was why they rarely came to the desert.
    ‘You should have told us that before we left, Oribas.’ Addic slipped off the back of his mule.
    Jonnic stayed where he was. He spat. ‘If we were going to get rid of this Aulian, here would do. Far enough away from old Brawlic that the forkbeards would never suspect even if they found
him.’
    Addic snorted. ‘And bring them down on Ronnelic and Jonna and Ylya and Massic and the rest? Why, have they done something to offend you?’
    Oribas yawned with a careful precision. ‘In Aulia it is considered impolite to discuss a man’s murder while he’s standing right in front of you. I would hate to inconvenience
your friends with my death. Perhaps it would be more convenient for us all if I were to stay alive?’
    Addic laughed. ‘I’m sorry about Jonnic. He hasn’t quite grasped the idea that there are people in the world who are neither his Marroc friends nor forkbeards out to hang
him.’
    ‘I’ve quite grasped the Vathen,’ snapped Jonnic. He glared at Oribas. ‘When I cut a man’s throat, his body goes in the Isset. Won’t be a trouble to anyone. No
inconvenience
.’
    Oribas spared him a smile. ‘Then I shall remain glad that it’s Addic and not you who carries the iron sword.’ He turned away from Jonnic with as much bad grace as his Aulian
manners could muster. ‘An iron sword driven through the shadewalker’s heart will kill it. Steel will sometimes work but more usually the creature appears to have been slain only to rise
again in the days or weeks that follow. I’ve heard of the same shadewalker being put to rest four times before it stayed at peace, but when you truly kill it, you will know. There will be no
doubt.’ Just saying the words made him think of the Edge of Sorrows and all the names that the Marroc and the Lhosir had for the red sword. Was
that
what it was for? Putting
shadewalkers to rest? ‘Shadewalkers were knights once, soldiers of the Aulian emperor. They remember little of who they were but they have not forgotten their skill. Most still carry their
old swords and armour.’
    ‘We know.’ Addic’s lips were pressed tight together. ‘We’ve seen them. Too many of them.’
    ‘The sword-dancers learn to fight with such skill that they can cut the armour from a shadewalker’s skin and pierce its dead bones with one thrust. The shadow-stalkers learn ways to
make a shadewalker so weak that it can barely move. We have neither here, but we will confront it as though we have both. Whoever takes the sword must make the final thrust, but you must also
defend us while I weaken it. Where’s the salt?’
    Addic jerked his thumb at a sack strapped to the back of his saddle.
    ‘Addic, if you carry the sword then your friend Jonnic will need a torch and some of the salt as well. The shadewalker cannot cross a line of salt. I’ll trap it in a circle. Once
that is done, the rest is much easier. I will throw furnace powders over the creature and Jonnic will set his torch to it. When