The Soul Sphere: Book 02 - The Final Shard by David Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

against Dark One.”
    “Who sent you to do this?”
    “Durst. My chief.”
    “He presumes to speak for all goblins?”
    “He speaks for own pack.”
    “And what of others with you?”
    “There were no others.”
    The big goblin turned to one of his bowmen. “Horses riderless,” the bowman confirmed.
    They looked back at Lucien. “Six Lorgrasian horses? You travel well, or others were unseated. Perhaps in battle?”
    “Saw signs of battle to north. Delosh and Omwee. Did not see it happen.”
    The goblin thought for a moment. “So you sent to make alliances. Is this female your lone success?”
    “All Arkania prepares for war. Lorgras, Delving, and Corindor will be readied by others met on journey. I hope to muster our people.”
    “To what end?”
    “Assault on Veldoon, and on Solek.”
    “Your journey has been long?”
    “Almost six months.”
    “Things change much since then. Dead Legion had their time, but now take war somewhere else. But our land now worse than ever, and game scarce.”
    “War has begun between packs,” Lucien stated.
    The large goblin nodded. “I speak no more. Grosh will decide what to do with you. I hope I not need to make you walk. Journey swifter on horse.”
    “I not doubt accuracy of your bowmen,” Lucien replied. “We ride with you as unbound prisoners.”
    The lead goblin smiled. “Excellent. Kabrinda do show some intelligence from time to time. Keep weapons as they are and you keep them. Touch them and you die.” Before Lucien could reply he kicked his horse and started away to the east. Lucien and Alexis followed, and soon found themselves riding in the center of the group. The eyes of the goblins never left them, giving them no opportunity to consider escape.
    *          *          *
    Corson woke to find the dwarf camp alive with activity. A small breakfast had been laid beside his mat, which he dug into and enjoyed. As he was finishing, he saw Demetrius speaking with Gellan, and the two of them overlooking some sort of excavation work several hundred yards from the camp. As Corson approached, he saw the shovels of the dwarves rising and falling with well-honed precision. They worked in teams of four, and the earth and stone gave way quickly before them
    Demetrius turned at the sound of his friend’s footsteps. “Good morning,” he said. The words and the tone were pleasant enough, but his face was somber.
    “I must have been more tired than I knew,” Corson said. “I didn’t mean to let so much of the day slip by. You should have dumped some water on my head.”
    “Tomorrow, perhaps,” Demetrius said. “I’ve just risen myself.”
    “Your trip has been long and hard,” Gellan said. “A few hours of sleep while others keep watch is to be treasured, I would think. Trouble yourself no more with this.”
    “My thanks, Gellan,” Corson answered. “For you kind words, the food and drink, and the sleep.”
    “It was good to host friends again, even if the surroundings are not the fine carved halls dwarves prefer. With such grim work, it was good to talk of other things, if only for one evening.”
    “ ‘Grim work’?”
    Gellan gestured at the digging dwarves.
    Corson looked a second time, and noticed now another tool being used—dwarven axes. And once an axe fell, the shovels returned dirt and stone to the hole they had made.
    “We must deprive Solek of his resources,” Gellan said, “though it pains me to do so foul a deed.”
    “You’re digging up graves and…”
    Demetrius laid a hand gently on Corson’s shoulder and said simply, “Yes.”
    Corson tried to untangle his tongue. “We have found need to do similar deeds. Dark though they seem, they are necessary.”
    “I know,” said Gellan. “And I appreciate your words, though they cannot remove the stain I feel on my soul from ordering such a thing. Worse, these are dwarves who fell in battle and were buried in this open field by men. They meant well, and honored the dead