Dark King Of The North (Book 3) by Ty Johnston Read Free Book Online Page B

guard.
    “The fool was still carrying his ring,” Verkain said.
    Randall gripped his left hand into a fist and no longer felt his gold band. For that matter, the healer realized he was wearing nothing. He was nude and at the mercy of his father and Lendo.
    “The ring is nothing,” Verkain said. “It didn’t bring him to me. The only magic in the ring is a tracing hex.”
    Lendo chuckled.
    “I’ve known where you have been the entire time,” Verkain said.
    A rare rage suddenly spread through Randall. He squirmed, tugging at the leather bindings.
    “This one thinks he can escape, my lord.” Lendo laughed again.
    Randall ceased his struggles. The wind had been taken out of him for his struggles.
    “Teach him,” Verkain said. “Teach him what happens to one who disobeys me.”
    Lendo disappeared from the healer’s view, followed by leathery noises, as if something of hide were being opened or folded.
    A wet coldness suddenly dolloped onto Randall’s back, rolling along like icy raindrops, curving along his sides and around to his ribs.
    “What are you doing to me?” Randall asked.
    “One of my favorite toys,” Verkain said. “One I should have introduced to you years ago.”
    “Bore worms.” Lendo cackled.
    Randall jerked. He knew what the worms could do. His father had used them as tools of torture for years. The tiny, yellow critters would slime their way along his skin, eventually tearing through the flesh and burrowing deep inside. The things sought the heart, and they took a long time getting to it. Deaths by the worms were agonizing and lasted hours, sometimes days depending upon the strength of the person tortured.
    The healer suddenly decided that if he had to die, it would not be like this, crying and tearing at his own skin, eventually vomiting blood and waiting, waiting, waiting for the worms to eat through his chest.
    Randall jerked on his bindings again. He strained, pulling at the cords. Again, after several seconds, his body was too tired to fight.
    But Randall had other choices. He whispered several words, calling upon his own inner strength to will the cords away from his body.
    Nothing happened.
    Randall spoke the words again, this time louder.
    Verkain joined Captain Lendo in laughter.
    “Ever the fool, Kerwin,” Verkain said to his son. “Did you think it would be so easy to escape? Did you think I would not have protections against your magic?”
    Randall realized what a fool he was being. One of his father’s most profound spells was one that nullified all magic, even Verkain’s own, in a radius around the lord of Kobalos. Randall remembered when he was a boy Verkain had often used the spell to protect himself from other powerful mages.
    Randall went limp. “Father, please, we have to talk.”
    “I’d rather hear you scream,” Verkain said.
    A sharp pain in Randall’s left side caused him to flinch, jerking himself and chaffing the skin around his wrists from the straps binding them.
    “The worms are beginning their work, my lord,” Lendo said.
    “Do not worry, my son,” Verkain’s voice said, so close to Randall’s left ear the healer could feel the breath from the words. “I won’t allow the worms to finish. I have plans for you. You have a few days.”
    “Kill me now, if you must.” Randall nearly bit his own tongue at the foolishly brave words he spoke. “Finish this madness.”
    “You don’t even realize your own power,” Verkain said. “You are no mere natural mage. You could save yourself.”
    “Please, father, end this one way or another,” Randall said.
    “No,” Verkain said. “Your death must be seen by the masses. The public must know you are dead, not hear you are dead. Then the prophecy will be fulfilled, and my true destiny awaits.”
    “Father.” Randall tried one last vain attempt to save himself. “No matter what you’ve done, I want you to know I love you.”
    Eventually, after long seconds, Verkain spoke, “You were always a good