The Deadwalk by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime Read Free Book Online Page B

hope we make it to the
crystal mountains in time.”
    Riordan dragged in a breath, waiting for the shudders of hysteria she was
sure would follow. In dazed confusion she stared down at her bloody sword,
seeing it, yet feeling nothing.
    Nothing but the cold darkness inside.
     
     
     
     

The Deadwalk
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    A night spent drinking did not a pleasant morning make. Rau silently rebuked
himself for the previous evening's folly.
    Rough terrain tortured his headache. Each bump felt like a knife to his
skull. The brilliant sun overhead lanced through his sensitive eyes.
    Though his linen shirt lay damp with sweat, he shivered in spite of his
leather vest and heavy cloak. He almost considered calling an early camp. After
last night's merriment, the men would be suffering as surely as he and would
welcome a few extra hours rest.
    But his father's words whispered like ghosts in his ears. Kholer would not
lie in wait for him to conquer. Gamaliel's taunts of a warrior-princess had
followed him even into his dreams. Doubt took root in his mind.
    So he rallied his army days earlier than he'd first intended. Hael couldn't
run the risk of stragglers from Kanarek forewarning Kholer. Surprise was their
ally. Sweeping out of the west, he'd level their fair city and add the
casualties to the ranks of his army of cadavers.
    After Kholer there was the Golar. Following Golar, the rest of the coast.
    Once he held the coast neither the fabled Sword of Zal-Azaar, nor the lost
Kanarekii heir would be able to wrest it from him. He'd stamp his mark upon the
entire landscape, blackening all that had been built there, obliterating all
that stood against him.
    His father would be forced to recognize Doan-Rau as his heir, instead of his
younger brother, Tanin.
    When the fires of his conquest had smoldered into ash, then he would rebuild,
erect proud monuments to his name. By then the stragglers would be ready to bow
to him. Those who didn't would soon find themselves among the legions of the
dead. Manpower was the least of his worries. His standard would be flown in
every hamlet along the coast. One day perhaps even across the plains of
Kor-Koraan.
    A mad and brilliant scheme, Rau thought. The Amber offered an ingenious
savings in labor and time. Shraal be praised, there was no longer any need to
burn the battlefields. Merely round up the dead, induce the magic of locomotion
using the Amber, then ride them out. Shraal sorcery would spur them on until the
process of decomposition rendered them immobile. What remained would be left to
rot in the midday sun, an offering to the vultures.
    Shraal mysteries had haunted Rau's imagination since his youth. Evidence of
Shraal blood weighed strong within him, plain for anyone with discerning eyes to
see. Still, his father would deny him his heritage.
    Precious little now remained of the proud kingdom that had stretched over
most of the mapped territory. Shraal would have faded from memory completely had
it not been for him. Rau fingered the amber clasp on his cloak. Despite his dark
hair and rugged features, he had a Shraal's soul. He would raise the great
kingdom of Bayorek from the ashes and rule as its king. Such was the dream he
was shaping into reality.
    Shouts broke into his reverie. Rau lurched to his senses. Soldiers, who
should have been riding in tight formation behind him, now searched the rear for
the source of the commotion. Sensing his sudden regard, they snapped to
attention. Larz, he noted, had gone to investigate.
    “Take the lead,” he barked at the standard bearer, who nodded nervously and
took Rau's spot. The last thing he needed on a morning such as this was trouble.
    Further down the line of soldiers, he noticed a break in the ranks. Rau put
the spurs to his horse. Dissension would not be tolerated. If the men needed
extra incentive, that could certainly be arranged.
    Soldiers scattered as he reined into their midst, anxious to fade back into