Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) by William King Read Free Book Online Page A

uneasy, Sir Kormak. We will not be going directly across the ocean. Our passage takes us via the Outward Islands.” Seeing Kormak’s blank expression, he added, “We’ll be stopping at Fort Wrath to take on supplies before we catch the transoceanic trade winds.”
    Kormak liked Zamara more than he liked Aemon and his brother. If he was not quite a friend, they were more than acquaintances. They had shed blood and risked their lives together. If that meant humouring him in front of this audience, Kormak did not mind.
    “At least with you in command, I know we’ll make it safely back to port,” Kormak said. Some of the officers smiled at that. Others looked as if they envied him the chance to curry favour.
    Zamara looked pleased, and a little suspicious. At least he had not become so used to flattery that he expected it from everyone. Kormak wondered how long that would remain the case once they got to Terra Nova and Zamara exercised his considerable power in the king’s name. No doubt there would be changes in the admiral’s personality and manner. Kormak had seen it happen before, and he doubted Zamara would be immune to the process.
    Followed by his retinue, Zamara went below to find his cabin. Kormak stood by the railing and studied the hillside houses of Trefal. He was starting to feel the tug of indefinable excitement that he always felt when he was about to begin a new journey. Who knew what he would encounter this time, what wonders he would see?
    Kormak heard footsteps approach, and turned to see a tall, thin, bald man walking towards him. He was better dressed than a common sailor, but worse than an officer. He wore a tunic with the symbol of the kingdom of Siderea on it, and britches of the same light blue colour. His leathery feet were bare. His face was calm. If Kormak had not known better, he would have thought the man a servant.
    “Excuse me, sir, but I have been instructed to show you and to your cabin.” His voice was soft and respectful, but still somehow audible over the clamour of the ship. He was probably a sailor whose duties consisted attending the captain and his officers.
    “By whom?”
    “By Admiral Zamara, sir. Your cabin is waiting.” Kormak was impressed. On warships, space was always at a premium. On many, only the captain had a cabin. Even the highest-ranking officers shared theirs.
    The sailor waited for Kormak’s response. Kormak looked at Rhiana.
    “Captain Rhiana has her own cabin. One of my lads will be along momentarily to show her to it.” The man did not look embarrassed, but something in his tone suggested he was. It was most likely because Rhiana was a child of the Old Ones as well as a woman. Placing a Guardian of the Dawn and a spawn of the Old Ones together in the same cabin would outrage many delicate Siderean sensibilities. For centuries, their nation had languished under the rule of the Eldrim.
    “Lead on,” Kormak said. The sailor led him down a wooden staircase, and into a corridor with a ceiling so low Kormak had to duck his head. They passed some cabins with open doors, and servants bearing chests and clothes and personal effects.
    “A lot of cabins,” Kormak said. The sailor turned, and gave a shrug as if he were the owner of the galleon.
    “A lot of important people travel on the Pride of Siderea , sir. Administrators, generals, rich nobles. They like their privacy, and the ship has space.”
    Kormak could see that was true. The Pride was more than twice the size of any ship he had previously sailed on. He wondered how well it would perform against smaller, more agile warships.
    A tall, slender woman left the cabin opposite. She was at very least middle-aged. Her skin was leathery, her eyes watchful. Ivory needles pinned her spun-silver hair to the back of her head in a bun. She preserved much of the beauty she must have possessed in youth. She looked Kormak up and down and said, “A Guardian of the Dawn. This is proving to be a most interesting