Taker Of Skulls (Book 5) by William King Read Free Book Online Page A

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    “I’ve heard it said that if the Aquileans stopped fighting each other, they could probably conquer Taurea,” said Sasha.
    “Might be true,” said Boreas. “They are fierce enough.”
    “It will never happen,” said Kormak.
    “What makes you so sure?” Karnea asked.
    “Too many old hates among the clans. Too many blood feuds. Too many ritual killings. And even if some warlord arose to unite them, they would still fail. It takes more than a sword and courage to win battles.”
    “They help,” said Boreas.
    “Aye,” said Kormak. “But fighting cavalry on open plains is not so easy when you don’t have any yourself. And fighting a campaign is hard when your idea of strategy is to get drunk and head for the biggest town with the most loot, and your idea of tactics is line up and charge the enemy as fast as you can because you want to take more heads than your neighbour.”
    “It sounds like you don’t have much respect for the fighting skills of your kinsmen,” said Sasha.
    “I have no kinsmen,” said Kormak. “And I have every respect for the Aquileans. I just don’t think they know how to fight a war. Raid, yes. Kill a man with a blade, yes. Fight a war against civilised armies? No.”
    “What happened to your kin?” Sasha asked. “Blood feud?”
    Kormak shook his head. “An Old One killed them. Wiped out the entire village.”
    “Did your folk anger him in some way?” she asked.
    “No. He is one of those who just attack human villages when the mood strikes him. They kill like maddened wolverines because they like the taste of blood.”
    “He left you alive though,” Sasha said. “Or did you run away?”
    “I was eight years old,” Kormak said. “I tried to hit him with my father’s hammer. My father’s head lay severed where the Old One had dropped it.”
    Sasha looked appalled. “I am sorry,” she said. “I never meant...”
    “Why are you sorry?” Kormak asked. “You never did anything. It was Adath Decaureon, the Prince of Dragons.”
    “Why did it let you live?” Boreas asked.
    “He always leaves one survivor to tell the tale. Always a child. He always tells them that one day he will come back and kill them. Sometimes he does.”
    “Did he tell you?” Sasha asked.
    “Yes.” An appalled silence hung over the small group. Were they wondering what would happen if the Prince of Dragons caught up with him while they were there?
    “There was a Guardian pursuing him,” Kormak said. “Malan. He took me back to Mount Aethelas. That’s how I came to join the Order of the Dawn.”
    “And you’ve spend your life hunting Old Ones ever since?” Sasha asked.
    “Or wizards or servants of the Shadow,” said Kormak. Karnea looked away. They walked in silence a long while after that.

    Kormak looked over the side of bridge. Three hundred yards below the stream looked tiny. He kept walking over the great span. He was very conscious of the long drop beneath him.
    “Bad place to get caught by an ambush,” Boreas said. “No way on or off except to jump. Attackers could easily hit from the top of those towers.”
    “That’s why they were there,” Karnea said. “The dwarves were able to defend each entrance to the bridge and the middle as well. There were gates in each.”
    It was not what the dwarves could have done that worried Kormak. It was what men could do now. That far tower perched at the edge of the bridge would be the perfect place for Otto and his boys to wait for them. Even if all they did was drop rocks, they could most likely cause casualties. “Let’s hope there is no one waiting for us,” he said.
    “If you’re thinking about Otto and his lads, I would not worry,” said Sasha. “They would not climb those towers if their lives depended on it.”
    “Why not?” Kormak asked.
    “They are haunted.”
    “By whom?”
    “No one knows but lights are seen in them, and voices speaking in strange tongues are heard, and people vanish who go into them, never