Fate of an Empire (Talurian Empire Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

boy back into his seat. “I am sorry, Master.”
    A long silence
screamed between the two.
    A far-off bell
sounded. Time for lunch at the food hall, but each of them knew they were not
done for the day.
    Another moment
passed and, as the last bell rang, Orin straightened his posture and started
back into the channeling. “Do not speak again, unless spoken to.”
    Valen nodded,
quietly conceding to his teacher.

Chapter
3: Forest Meeting
     
    A single wolf
sprinted through the cold northern woods, smooth white-grey fur flattened
against his body. Steam rose from his flared nostrils, and muscles flexed from
deliberate, agile movements. The horizon was marked with snowcapped mountains,
just visible through the thinning forest. The majestic view flashed across the
wolf’s eyes as it raced past trees and splashed through icy creeks.
    The sudden,
faint whisper of life, anchored the beast in its tracks.
    The sound
tempted him around a large rock formation. He looked to the left and saw a
clearing a few paces away. Slinking behind the thick undergrowth and using the
foliage as cover, the animal sniffed the air. The scent of humans tickled his
senses and, by following his nose, he turned his gaze to witness a rider enter
the clearing.
    The man moved
around the opening, checking for tracks or evidence of recent activity. Satisfied
all was as it should be, he rode back into the tree line and emerged a moment
later with five other riders. One of them wore the Chieftain necklace of the
Chargon tribe—a cumbersome looking thing with multiple rows of brightly colored
feathers and random pieces of bone from past leaders. A shawl of woven greenery
framed his shaven head while sunlight filtered through the trees, highlighting
his bare chest and traditional tattoos of his forest tribe.
    “Where are
they?” asked one of the men, breaking the silence.
    The
disgruntled words reverberated off the iced mountains that circled the area.
    The Chieftain
held up a finger to silence him. He slowly turned his head, scanning the trees,
his hand never moving far from a dangerous-looking stone hatchet hanging from
his waist.
    “They were
supposed to be here when the sun was high overhead. We may have been tricked,”
said another.
    The wolf crept
closer.
    He slid his
body over the knotted forest floor to keep his head from being spotted. As he
neared the group, they turned their mounts to leave. A sudden low rumble
brought them to a halt.
    A company of
horsemen fanned out into the opening. There were twenty soldiers, all carrying
swords and shields, with bows slung over their backs. Every one of them was
wrapped in thick, tattered fur coats—people from an endless winter. Their
unruly, blonde hair and pale skin contrasted against the tribesmen to an
extreme.
    These were the
feared Merkadian warriors from the mountains of the north, all veteran
soldiers, with the scars to prove it.
    The wolf
retreated to a more covered area at the sight of the soldiers.
    A man, wearing
an enormous bearskin draped over his shoulders, jumped down from his mount and
moved toward the Chargon leader, giving a slight bow. The Chieftain dismounted
from his horse and returned the gesture.
    The two
started to talk.
    The wolf
strained his hearing, trying to make out any words, but was not able. He
started edging along to where they stood.
    Suddenly the
tribesman shouted. “What? You bring me out here, to the middle of nowhere,” he
motioned around the clearing with his hands, “and expect me to do that ?”
His outrage accentuated his Chargon accent as he spoke the words in the common
tongue.
    The stocky,
mountain warrior placed a hand on the Chieftain’s shoulder. “Calm yourself, Amhar.
King Melidarius has already convinced both Kilgar and Targa to join us. They seem to understand what is at risk,” The warrior tilted his head, “Do you?”
    “Don’t play me
the fool, Vyker! We know the trouble that is coming our way. We know that the
Kilgarians were hit hard and lost