Frostborn: The World Gate Read Online Free Page A

faded. “What are your commands?”
    “Be ready,” said Calliande, though she had nothing for Antenora to do at the moment. “We may come under attack at any moment.”
    “These spider-devils and their cultists,” said Antenora. “The urdmordar and the arachar orcs, as you named them. Are they so fearsome?” 
    “They are,” said Calliande. “I have faced urdmordar before and prevailed, but I have no wish to do so again. They are strong enough that they could turn aside your fire magic with ease.”
    “Though the arachar would have no such protection,” said Antenora. 
    “They would not,” said Calliande.
    They stood in silence for a moment, watching the orcish warrior and the young Swordbearer train together. At last Kharlacht traded with Caius, and the dwarven friar began instructing Gavin on the finer points of defending from a mace, interposed with frequent references to the Gospels. 
    “Is it not impressive?” said Antenora in a quiet voice. 
    “What is?” said Calliande.
    “The skill of Gavin Swordbearer,” said Antenora, watching him. 
    Sometimes Antenora surprised Calliande. The woman had lived for fifteen centuries, and those years had taken their toll upon her mind. Fissures riddled her memory, and her mood was often grim, even nihilistic. She had seen the horrors of Old Earth’s history, and if the Warden’s visions had been true, those horrors had been numerous indeed. 
    Yet at time there were flashes of the young woman that Antenora had been long ago, glimpses of a wild, willful young woman…and Calliande wondered if she saw one of those flashes now. Antenora addressed Calliande as the Keeper, but she called the others by a rotating variety of nicknames.
    She always called Gavin by name. 
    “What is impressive about him?” said Calliande. 
    “Behold his soulblade,” said Antenora. “It blazes with power in my Sight, and it bestows its power upon him. He is but a young man, and young men do not handle power well. Again and again I have seen this.”
    “As have I,” said Calliande, remembering some of the nobles she had dealt with in centuries past. 
    “I was a little younger than him,” said Antenora, closing her yellow eyes, “when I first began wielding magic, and look at the path of ruin upon which the power led me.” She opened her eyes again. “But not Gavin Swordbearer. Look. He has not grown proud, nor does he seek dominion or lordship over other men. Instead he seeks to serve, and accepts the counsel of his elders.”
    “He has seen where the path of power for its own sake leads,” said Calliande, thinking of Gavin’s father Cornelius. Or of Tarrabus Carhaine and the Enlightened. “And even a Swordbearer is mortal, and we face death every day.”
    “This is so,” said Antenora, watching Gavin as he dodged and ducked around Caius’s mace. He deflected the blows with his shield, rather than parrying with his soulblade or trying to block them with main force. “I have seen many warriors, but he shall be among the greatest of them.” 
    “If I did not know any better,” said Calliande, “I would think you were becoming infatuated with him.”
    She had said it half in jest, but any trace of emotion drained from Antenora’s face. 
    “The time for that,” said Antenora, “is long, long past. Long before even you were born, Keeper. Long before the survivors of Arthur Pendragon’s realm came here. Such things were lost to me.” She reached back and drew the cowl of her long coat over her head. “That is as it should be.” 
    Calliande opened her mouth to answer, and then blue fire flashed next to Antenora. The blue flames hardened into Mara, who blinked and looked around. 
    “Mara,” said Calliande. “Is someone coming? The arachar?” 
    Gavin and the others stopped, turning to face the gate. 
    “No,” said Mara. “I think Ridmark and Morigna are returning.”
    Calliande nodded and headed towards the gate, the others following her. Arandar and