The Storm's Own Son (Book 1) by Anthony Gillis Read Free Book Online Page B

offices. This isn't a small step..."
    They were interrupted by the sudden arrival of Pallas walking in from a back street, resplendent in his black and gold brocaded cloak.
    "Tal, Daxar ! How are you?" said Pallas.
    They greeted him.
    "Mind if I walk with you a few blocks? I'll be turning off before you get to your offices, Daxar, but it'd be good to catch up in the meantime."
    Daxar shrugged, Talaos smiled and welcomed him. As they continued on, a mischievous thought occurred to Talaos.
    "Pallas," he asked, "How did things go with Injraya?"
    Daxar twitched and skipped a step, but played cool. Pallas beamed.
    "It went great! She loved meeting everyone, especially Katara. I've seen her a few more times, when she can get away from her father. She works as an assistant for him, by the way."
    "I'm glad," grinned Talaos. Inwardly, he was glad Pallas had pulled victory from the jaws of defeat after all. He was equally glad to see Daxar's awkward expressions.
    They walked on for a little while. Daxar resolutely avoid ed bringing up his own far more respectable connection with Injraya's father. Talaos reflected with amused interest that Injraya herself knew of Dax's existence from both sides, but had presumably kept quiet.
    The three of them made small talk. They passed into a less busy area of warehouses and occasional seedy, rough taverns. This was a gang-haunted neighborhood that all of them knew well, and that knowledge kept all of them on their guard. Their talked quieted.
    As they went along a twisting section of street that was entirely deserted, Talaos had a sudden, bad instinct.
    "Dax, Pallas... Eyes open," he whispered, drawing his long blade in his right hand.
    Daxar drew the great sword from his back, and Pallas his own dueling swords.
    "Well, well..." grinned a tall, ugly man with hollow cheeks and scarred arms, as he came around a corner ahead of them.  Talaos knew him. One of Borras's men who'd lived.
    "Astus," said Talaos, smiling. "Come to ask for my help in seeing Borras again?"
    "You fucker. You won't have any archers to save you this time," replied Astus. As he spoke, four more men, three from Borras's old crew, and one Talaos didn't know, rounded the corner behind him. They had a variety of axes and iron clubs.
    Daxar and Pallas took places to Talaos's left and right. Astus stared at them with a sword in one hand and a hand axe in the other.  His men did likewise. It went on just a little too long.
    There was a cold, harsh voice behind them. "Daxar, why are you keeping company with a couple of dead men?"
    Talaos knew that voice, and knew what it meant. He turned to look.
    There was Sorvion, Cratus's right hand for the last couple of years. The towering, rangy, hawk-faced man had fine broad-bladed dueling swords and a deadly, cruel look in his sharp-browed eyes. Behind him were eight of Cratus's men with swords, axes, and maces.
    Daxar didn't turn or respond.
    Sorvion continued, even as he and his men walked slowly forward, "Leave now Daxar, and we'll stay on good business terms. Otherwise..."
    "I decline your offer, Sorvion," said Daxar, backing with Talaos and Pallas to form a defensive circle.
    Talaos, however, had more to say. "How'd you find us?" he added cheerfully.
    "Did you think there wouldn't be payback, after Borras? " hissed Sorvion. "Or that there wouldn't be eyes watching for the right chance? My only regret is that we didn't have enough warning to round up more men. Enough men to catch you alive, and kill you nice and slow."
    " Life is full of little disappointments," answered Talaos. As he dragged things out, he sized up the situation, and hoped Daxar and Pallas were doing the same. Sorvion was by far the most dangerous opponent they faced, and he had more men. If he could take Sorvion himself out at the start, or at least throw him and his men into confusion, they could probably take out Astus and his crew quickly enough to face a fight on a single front.
    Luckily, Sorvion seemed inclined to