Frostborn: The Gorgon Spirit Read Online Free

what it is worth, my lady, but you shall have my help until the end of our quest.”
    “Thank you,” said Calliande. “And that is worth far more than you know. I think you shall be a worthy Swordbearer.”
    “You are kind,” said Gavin. 
    “Kindness has nothing to do with it,” said Calliande. “I saw you fight at Urd Morlemoch.” 
    “I suppose if I live long enough, we shall see if you were right or not,” said Gavin. 
    Calliande laughed. “Now you sound like Ridmark.”
    Gavin shook his head. “I think…”
    His eyes narrowed, and Truthseeker swept out of its scabbard, the soulstone worked in the blade shining with a pale white glow. Calliande spun, raising her hand for a spell.
    A woman’s voice came to her ears, low and sardonic. “Did we startle you?” 
    A man and a woman came from the trees. The woman was black-haired and black-eyed, a bow in her hands. The man was tall and strong, with cold blue eyes in a hard face, his black hair close-cropped. A brand of a broken sword marred his left cheek. He wore a leather jerkin and a gray cloak over blue dark elven armor, a black staff slung over his shoulder, a hunting bow ready in his hands. 
    “Ridmark,” said Calliande. A peculiar welter of emotions went through her at the sight of him. Gratitude for all the times that he had saved her life. A bit of longing, too. She could have very easily fallen in love with him. Perhaps it was just as well. The Keeper of Andomhaim did not seem like the kind of woman who should have personal entanglements. 
    Mostly, she was just glad to see him. 
    “Calliande, Gavin,” said Ridmark. “We had better had back to camp. There might be a problem.” 

    ###

    Gavin followed Ridmark, Calliande, and Morigna to the camp. 
    He kept quiet as they discussed the situation. Ridmark had seen far more fights than Gavin, and Calliande and Morigna could bring powerful magic to bear. Yet if Ridmark or Calliande commanded, then Gavin would act. He could act far more effectively than he could have a few weeks ago.
    The sword at his side ensured that.
    Even without concentrating, he felt his link to the soulblade at his side, the sword’s power waiting at his call. Long ago, the archmage Ardrhythain had forged the soulblades, giving them to the High King of Andomhaim to wield against the urdmordar. To Gavin, Ardrhythain had been a figure of distant history, and then Gavin had met him twice outside the walls of Urd Morlemoch. 
    Gavin was a Swordbearer now, a Knight of the Order of the Soulblade. He could barely grasp the idea. A year ago he had been a boy of Aranaeus, angry at his father, hoping to win Rosanna’s attention.
    It seemed like it had been a century ago. Gavin had seen wonders and terrors beyond imagination since then. What would his father think of him now? 
    Who had Gavin become? 
    He wasn’t sure he knew. He almost hoped that a fight was coming. In a battle there was no time to brood. That was why Ridmark and Kharlacht had him practice every day, working the movements of blade over and over so they became imprinted upon his very muscles. 
    They returned to the camp. Mara, Caius, and Jager sat at the fire, Jager and Caius arguing good-naturedly while Mara stared at the flames. Kharlacht and Arandar stood on watch a short distance away. Gavin’s eyes flicked to the soulblade at Arandar’s belt. Ridmark had once carried Heartwarden as a Swordbearer, but the sword had been taken from him after Mhalek’s death. Gavin had always respected Ridmark, but that respect had risen after he had taken up Truthseeker. To lose his link to his soulblade would be as devastating as losing a hand.
    Yet Ridmark had carried on nonetheless. 
    “Gray Knight,” rumbled Kharlacht. “What news of the village?” 
    “There is no longer a village,” said Morigna.
    They all looked at Ridmark.
    “Something killed every single orc in the village,” said Ridmark. “Men, women, and children. Morigna’s ravens spotted their skulls