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

preventing the return of the Frostborn, but Shadowbearer had arranged the destruction of the Order decades ago. The Frostborn were returning, and only Calliande was left. It was up to her stop them. 
    But she could not stop the Frostborn unless she knew who she was, or the actual method of their return.
    The Warden of Urd Morlemoch, the oldest and greatest of the dark elven wizards, knew the answers to both questions. 
    She rested against the eroded stump of the wall, drew her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her green cloak around her. A pair of ravens flew overhead, cawing, and vanished to the north. Calliande wondered if Morigna had bound the birds, and decided against it. The ravens had a sickly, unhealthy look. Likely they had been twisted by the tainted magic of the Torn Hills, making them too unnatural for Morigna to control. 
    Thinking of Morigna made the sadness redouble. 
    Calliande had so many reasons to be grateful. The Watcher had sacrificed himself to save her, and his spirit had guided her. Shadowbearer had intended to kill her upon the altar of the Black Mountain, yet Ridmark had saved her. The powers of a Magistria had returned to her, and capable friends surrounded her. Ridmark Arban was the strongest warrior and the boldest leader she had ever seen, and Kharlacht and Brother Caius were deadly fighters. Even Gavin was becoming a skilled swordsman. Caius was wise, Jager was clever, and Mara was brave and calm. Morigna…well, even Morigna was valorous, if rash and arrogant. Calliande would have died on the Black Mountain without Ridmark’s help, and she would have died any number of times since without the aid of the others. Certainly she was grateful to them all, and she had no right for her heart to be heavy.
    Nonetheless, it was. 
    A boot scraped against stone.
    “Brother Caius,” said Calliande.
    The dwarven friar pulled himself up and sat next to her, his brown robes stirring in the wind. “My lady Magistria.” The head of his mace clanked against wall. “Might I join you at watch?”
    “Please,” said Calliande. She peered into the tower. “Where are the others?” 
    “Mara is keeping watch to the south,” said Caius. “Jager, Gavin, and Kharlacht are playing at dice. Jager is teaching Gavin to cheat. Kharlacht does not approve.”
    Calliande laughed. “You sound as if you do not approve, either.” 
    “Gambling is a sin,” said Caius, “though I suspect I have been gambling with my life for weeks, and therefore I am not without sin and cannot cast the first stone.” 
    “No one is perfect,” said Calliande, looking at the darkening hills.
    “Something troubles you,” said Caius.
    Calliande shrugged. “Well, I cannot remember anything that happened before three months ago. I am carrying an object of immense sorcerous power that could bring back the Frostborn, and Shadowbearer is hunting us to take the soulstone and kill me. Meanwhile, we are about to walk into the stronghold of an ancient wizard of immense strength and demand that he answer our questions. I have no shortage of things to trouble me, Brother.”
    “This is so,” said the dwarven friar. “But I suspect whatever troubles you cuts a little closer to the heart.” 
    Calliande sighed. Brother Caius was indeed wise, and more perceptive than she might have liked. 
    “Ridmark and Morigna,” she said.
    “They are scouting,” said Caius. “As they have been wont to do lately.”
    “Did you know that they have become lovers?” said Calliande.
    Caius blinked. “I…did not. I suspected they would, sooner or later, though a man should not lie with a woman who is not his wife.”
    “No,” said Calliande, looking at the sky. “Ridmark’s wife is dead. Five years…a man like him was not made for solitude, I think. A man like him has no trouble finding companionship, if he wishes it. I think…God have mercy, I think I am gossiping like an old woman.”
    “You are over two hundred years old, if your