Spook's: The Dark Army (The Starblade Chronicles) Read Online Free Page A

my flesh; I remembered falling into the darkness of death.
    There was an ache in my belly and the floorboards were cold. My knees trembled as I walked unsteadily over to the window seat and peered down.
    This castle was the most northerly seat of Prince Stanislaw of Polyznia. Grimalkin had already told me that it could not be defended. She seemed to be finding fault with everything. I had tried to remain calm in her presence but I felt increasingly bitter at the way she had manipulated me, bringing me to this northern principality without telling me that her intention was for me to fight the Shaiksa assassin. Her scheme had led to my death.
    I looked through the window at an army made up of the prince’s own blue-jacketed forces and those from the other northern principalities that bordered the Kobalos territory. I could see part of their camp from the window. Their fires had created a brown haze that hung over the meadows between the castle and the forest.
    Reinforcements were also joining us from the larger Germanic kingdoms immediately to the south. We would need every man we could get but there would never be enough of them.
    Somewhere across the Shanna River, two hours to the north, were our enemies – the Kobalos army, which was many times the size of our own. They could attack at any time.
    They were a fierce race of bestial creatures, and their new god Talkus had increased the power of their mages and fuelled this war. He might now be the most powerful entity of the dark. That was why I had let Grimalkin persuade me to travel here – to gather information that might help to defeat them long before they fought their way to the sea and threatened the County.
    We had destroyed the Fiend only to find something worse taking his place.
    Following the predictions of the magowie, the wise men who served the rulers of the principalities, thousands of men-at-arms had converged on this castle and now, because of my victory over the assassin, I was supposed to lead them. But I was a spook, not a prince. I didn’t want to lead them to their deaths.
    I sat there with the sun on my face; its rays felt warm through the glass. But I knew that beyond these walls the air was chilly – soon it would be winter. I wanted to go home before the weather closed in and made that impossible.
    The days were getting shorter and in just a few hours the sun would set. I didn’t welcome the night. Darkness made me uneasy now. The sound of a mouse scratching under the floorboards set my heart racing and my nerves jumping with anxiety. My apprenticeship had gradually allowed me to overcome such fears, but all at once it was as if all my training had been for nothing.
    How could I function as a spook in this condition? How long would it be before I returned to full physical and mental health? Had I truly died? Sometimes everything seemed unreal. I had to touch the stone walls and press my fingers against the wooden door in order to convince myself that they were solid. Was I actually back in the world or really still dead and suffering in the dark?
    By an effort of will I forced myself not to dwell on such thoughts. Grimalkin tells me that I was certainly dead – but if so, I could remember nothing of it.
    At the moment I struck the blow that gave me victory, I was aware of the Shaiksa assassin’s sabre thrusting towards my body. I tried to twist away. I could have done it – I should have avoided that fatal counterstroke – but my lower body was seized with a sudden paralysis.
    I remember feeling a terrible pain, then looking down and seeing the blade, knowing that I couldn’t hope to survive such a wound. I was cold and numb and terribly afraid. I didn’t want to die.
    Grimalkin believes that dark magic was used against me. She suspects that it was Lukrasta; she also suspects that he orchestrated my return from death – that the winged being which tore me from my coffin was his creature. I felt angry and remembered how I defeated him in