The Dark Warden (Book 6) by Jonathan Moeller Read Free Book Online

reach the urvaalg too late, that he would strike down the creature to find Morigna bleeding to death on the ground, just as Aelia had done in Castra Marcaine. 
    He could not have borne that again. Perhaps the urvaalg had killed Morigna, and he was only imagining her now, a hallucination as his mind refused to confront the truth. 
    His free hand closed around her arm. She was real, flesh and blood and bone. He hadn’t failed to save her as he had failed to save Aelia.
    The relief that passed through him threatened to turn his knees to water. 
    He stumbled a bit, and Morigna grabbed his arms.
    Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t the relief that was making his legs weak, it was likely the blood loss. Suddenly the pain from the wounds on his ribs and side flooded into him. 
    “I am not hurt,” said Morigna, “but you are.” She tugged up his tunic and the damaged jerkin and grimaced. “You will not bleed to death right now, but you must get this healed. We had best return to the camp and bring you to Calliande.” She shook her head. “How did you kill that urvaalg?”
    “I cut off its head with the axe,” said Ridmark. 
    “Yes, I observed that,” said Morigna. “But…how? Urvaalgs are so strong…”
    “It wasn’t going to happen again,” said Ridmark. “Aelia died in front of me. Not you, too.” 
    She went a little paler at that. “I…see. Well. Thank you for my life. Yet again.”
    “Let’s go,” said Ridmark.
    They left the hollow, making their way to the ruined tower and their camp. Morigna moved with her stealthy skill, but Ridmark found himself watching her.
    He had spent the last five years risking his life over and over again. After the omen of blue fire, he had set out for Urd Morlemoch without hesitation, intending to go alone. He had done that because he did not care for his own life, because he had nothing to lose. 
    He still cared little for his own life, but as he watched Morigna, it occurred to him that he had something to lose.
     
    ###
     
    Morigna followed Ridmark. She should have taken the lead, but she was afraid that he might pass out.
    Fear and anger boiled within her mind.
    Fear for what might happen to him, for what had almost happened to both of them.
    And anger that it had been allowed to happen in the first place. 
    The nobles of Andomhaim had taken Ridmark’s soulblade. If he had still possessed the weapon, he could have made short work of the two urvaalgs. Without it, he had barely overcome them, and if the dwarven Taalkaz had not given him that axe, he would have had no weapon against the beasts. 
    The Old Man had been wrong about so many things, but he had been absolutely correct about one matter.
    Power was the foundation of all things. 
    If they lived through this, she would encourage Ridmark to take enough power among the nobles of Andomhaim that no one could ever threaten him again.
    And she would acquire magical power enough to ensure that no one could harm either of them.

Chapter 4 - Memories
     
    Calliande sat atop the ruined wall and gazed into the darkening Torn Hills, lost in thought. 
    She had no right to feel sad, she knew, but she did nonetheless.
    Though there were many things to concern her, certainly. Her memory only extended back seventy-nine days, to the moment she had awakened beneath the ruins of the Tower of Vigilance. She did not know how long she slept in the darkness.
    Centuries, most likely. 
    But she did know other things. She could command the magic of the Magistri, the powers of defense and knowledge and healing. The words of a dozen different languages filled her head, along with the skills of a capable physician. She knew histories and secrets of the ancient world. In her dreams a spirit called the Watcher spoke to her, urging her to seek the hidden place called Dragonfall.
    For all her knowledge, she remembered nothing of the past. Calliande suspected that she had been a Magistria of the Order of the Vigilant, dedicated to