The Soldier's Tale by Jonathan Moeller Read Free Book Online Page B

been faster. Fortune does favor the bold, my
lady.”
    “How flattering,” she murmured. “The sons
of two Duxi, racing to dance with me. And I will not even inherit
my father’s lands and titles.”
    “They come with much responsibility,” said
Ridmark. “Your father labors endlessly to bear his burdens.”
    “You aided him with that,” said Aelia,
“when you slew Gothalinzur.” Ridmark grimaced. “I know you do not
like to be reminded of what you did at Victrix, but it was a great
deed.”
    “It was necessary,” said Ridmark. “And I
had help. I could not have done it alone.”
    “So have said all the great heroes of
history,” said Aelia.
    “I have no wish to be a hero,” said
Ridmark. “Merely to discharge my responsibilities with honor.”
    “As do I,” said Aelia. “Like my father, I
must do what is best for the people of the Northerland.”
    Which, Ridmark wondered, meant wedding
Tarrabus Carhaine?
    “You look so grim,” said Aelia.
    “I always look grim,” said Ridmark. “I’m
smiling now. See?”
    He kept his expression the same.
    Aelia laughed. “If you look like that when
you are happy, I dread to think of what you must look like in a
fury.”
    “I think we are talking too much,” said
Ridmark. “We should dance instead.”
    Her eyes lit up. “If we must.”
    They moved across the floor, revolving
around each other. In the southern courts, the dances were slower,
more solemn. Here in the north, they were faster and wilder, and he
saw a sheen of sweat appear upon Aelia’s brow. Again and again they
bumped into each other, sometimes by accident, sometimes not, and
every touch sent a thrill through Ridmark. He wanted to pull her
close and kiss her more than he had ever wanted anything, but he
would not dishonor her and her father.
    Though if he found her alone, perhaps in a
stairwell or a corridor, he would dare a kiss. And if she did not
slap him, he would dare another.
    The song ended, and a smattering of
applause went through the hall. Ridmark and Aelia stepped apart and
bowed to each other. She looked at his belt and frowned.
    “What’s that?” she said.
    For an excruciating moment Ridmark wondered
if his body had betrayed him into embarrassment, and then realized
she was talking about something else.
    About his soulblade.
    Pale white light leaked from the edges of
the scabbard.
    His embarrassment turned into alarm, and he
slid Heartwarden a few inches from its scabbard. A soulstone had
been embedded in the blade above the crosspiece. It looked like a
chunk of rough white crystal, but it was the source of the blade’s
magic.
    “It’s glowing,” said Aelia.
    Ridmark shook his head. “It only does that
when I draw upon its power, or…”
    Or when creatures of dark magic were
near.
    “My lord Dux!” shouted Ridmark, his voice
cutting through the hall.
    Gareth saw his blade and rose from his
chair. Ridmark saw that the other Swordbearers in attendance had
drawn their soulblades, their soulstones also shining with a pale
white light.
    “My lords and knights!” said Gareth.
“Defend yourselves! There are foes among us.”
    There was no panic. Everyone in the room
had lived through kobold or orcish raids, and knew what to do. The
men drew their swords or lifted maces. The women hurried to take
the children and the servants in hand, leading them towards the
chapel.
    The doors to the great hall swung open with
a groan. Torchlight blazed in the courtyard outside, but Ridmark
heard no signs of alarm.
    A tall figure in a long red coat stood in
the doorway, his shadow falling into the hall.
    Follow this link to continue
reading Frostborn:
The First Quest (http://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4439) .
    ***

Other books by the author
    The Demonsouled Saga
    MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK is a wandering knight,
fearless in battle and masterful with a sword.
    Yet he has a dark secret. He is
Demonsouled, the son of the ancient and cruel Old Demon, and his
tainted blood grants him