Shadowdance 05 - A Dance of Ghosts by David Dalglish Read Free Book Online Page A

this death pit, I daresay I’ve earned the damned title.”
    He stretched out his hand and she took it. His fingers were puffy and speckled with scars, the results of the gentle touchers’ needles.
    “The Watcher, the Eschaton, and the faceless woman,” said Ghost. “I’ll kill them all but the Watcher. Him I get to drag down these stairs and make suffer just as I suffered. After that, I make my own life.”
    There was a nobleness to him, a sincerity to his promise. Above all, he doubted not a single word he spoke. The deaths of her enemies, the interlopers to Karak’s great plan, would die by Ghost’s hands.
    Melody smiled.
    “Then we have a deal.”

CHAPTER
4
    H aern did not consider himself a skilled tracker when it came to the wilderness, but it didn’t take much to know a successful ambush when he saw one.
    “Impressive,” Thren muttered as they looked upon the carnage.
    It’d only been three days since they had overrun the Sun Guild wagons, and they’d traveled through light forest for all three, following the well-worn path toward the Gods’ Bridges. Not long after dawn, they’d traversed a brief stretch of hills, rising up like warts on the land amid the forest. At the top of the third hill, they’d come upon the bloodied remnants of what had once been men and women. Blood soaked much of the road, and at the crest of the hill was a great pit where there’d been a fire. Haern tried to count the bodies, but they were all cut to pieces and strewn about as if they were but playthings for their murderers. Crows had already descended upon the various pieces, and they shrieked out their annoyance at Haern and Thren’s arrival.
    “Should we proceed?” Haern asked as he drew his swords. “Whoever did this might still be near.”
    Thren shook his head, walking nonchalantly into the midst of the gore.
    “If there was an ambush planned, it’d already be sprung on us,” he said, glancing about as if looking for something. “These butchers have already moved on.”
    Haern followed his father, and he winced at the smell. From what he could tell, the deaths were recent, perhaps only the day before. He stepped over a severed hand, kicked at a crow pecking at a face, and then searched the ground for any sort of belongings, finding none.
    “Bandits?” he asked.
    “It seems as such,” Thren said, kneeling down before a mutilated head, half a spine still connected at the base. He brushed aside stiff, dark hair to reveal an ear torn in multiple places.
    “The last of the Sun Guild who fled,” Haern said, guessing at what his father was inferring. “Whoever killed them ripped out the earrings.”
    “That would be my guess,” Thren said, standing up and giving a disapproving glare about the hill. “Though whoever did it has rather poor taste.”
    Haern took a step closer to the large fire pit, and he pulled his cloak over his face, unable to stand the stench. Leaning over, he saw a crude spit and, within the fire, a collection of bones. Hoping he was wrong, but deep down knowing he was not, he reached inside and pulled out what could only be the bones of a man or woman’s arm.
    “Poor taste?” he said, tossing them back down and looking to Thren. “They massacred them all and then ate one for dinner. Poor taste doesn’t begin to describe what happened here.”
    Thren crossed his arms.
    “The more savage outlaws are known to have cruel tastes. It may still be bandits.”
    “If they are, I hope they decide to move against us next,” Haern said, breaking the spit with his heel. “I’d love the chance to remove their scum from this world.”
    Thren laughed.
    “Ever the hero,” he said. “But you may just have your chance. Whatever group did this made no attempt to hide their movements. Their footsteps lead on ahead of us, and if they had such fun with their last ambush, I suspect they’ll do it again. Let us see just what kind of men we are dealing with.”
    They continued on down the hill toward