The Silent Army by James A. Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

stone of the wall. But each had a different face.
    Each still had the features of the person who had died for them, that they might live again.
    Now if he could only remember the face of the Pilgrim, a man he had all but ignored, Merros might be able to get somewhere with the notion of speaking to the literal army of stone men surrounding the city.
    The top of the wall was clear of refugees. It seemed the notion of staying near the moving statues unsettled them. Merros could understand that. Sorcery of any sort made him uncomfortable.
    “I called for you.” Nachia’s voice, coming from behind him, was more amused than annoyed.
    “I have not received a message, Majesty.” He turned and bowed formally. Nachia stood with two soldiers: Darfel, her bodyguard – chosen by Merros himself – and Lauro Larn, the grandson of General Dataro Larn, who before his death had been one of the men who held the seat Merros himself now claimed. Both men nodded and stayed properly at the Empress’s side.
    “Likely the messengers are looking in and around your offices.” Nachia raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Where one would expect to find a commander of the armies in a crisis situation.”
    He felt his skin blush a bit. “I’ve been trying to remember exactly what the Pilgrim looked like.” He gestured to the closest of the Silent Army, a female. “Before he turned into one of these.”
    Nachia did not bother answering him, but instead stood face to face with the feminine statue, looking up to stare it in the eyes. Male and female alike, all of them were taller than the Empress.
    “I am the Empress Nachia Krous of the Fellein,” she said formally. “I would speak to the one who called himself the Pilgrim and I would do it as soon as possible. Please convey that message to him.”
    Merros stared at her, not quite sure when she had lost her faculties.
    Nachia looked back at him and frowned. “It can’t hurt to ask.”
    “They’re statues , Nachia.” He shook his head, immediately regretting the tone. A wise man did not scold his Empress, especially in a public setting, and doubly so if her name was Nachia Krous.
    Nachia shot him a withering stare. “I know they’re statues, Merros. I wasn’t the one trying to find one out of a thousand or more. Also, they’re statues that move .”
    “Well, yes, there is that. It’s why I was hoping it might be possible to talk to the one called the Pilgrim.”
    Nachia stepped back and so did her guards. It only took a moment for Merros to understand why. To his right and slightly behind him a stone man was rising from the ground. The shape was definitely one of the Silent Army.
    He was tall and he stood straight, one hand resting on the hilt of a sword made from the same substance as everything else. His face was familiar, but if Merros were honest with himself, he would never have located the one from the thousand others. There simply weren’t enough remarkable features.
    The expression, however, he would have remembered. The face twisted into a cold scowl.
    “You have called me, Empress. I have come.” The Pilgrim’s voice was oddly hollow, as if coming from a vast distance. There was a faint echo as well, making Merros think that the source of the voice came not from the mouth but from deep within the chest. Merros repressed a shudder. Sorcery.
    Nachia stared up into the Pilgrim’s visage and then pointed a finger toward Merros. “He wanted to speak with you.”
    The Pilgrim regarded him coldly. “You are General Merros Dulver.”
    “Yes.”
    “I remember you. What do you ask?”
    “I was, well, I was hoping you could explain to me why you have come here and where you are taking Canhoon.”
    “The gods have summoned us to come and protect their city.”
    “But where are we going?”
    “Where the gods command.” The Pilgrim stared to the east.
    “Can you tell us what the gods want?”
    “What they have always wanted. The safety and fealty of their