The Betrayed Read Online Free Page A

spent your entire life with the clergy. You have already devoted your life to the Cause.” He looked up at Ewan with his sharp, squinted eyes. “Besides, you’re no warrior.”
    “But neither are they.” Ewan pointed at a secluded group of about ten men on the far side of the square. “No one is, in the Territories.”
    Ayrton smiled. A tooth he was missing made for a macabre grimace. “Look better.”
    The young brother shielded his eyes from the morning sun and stared at the other men. At first glance, they appeared to be ordinary people. But then he spotted the same signs that adorned his friend: scars on faces and arms, a slightly crooked gait of people who had spent too much time riding, bearing weapons, and fighting. Just like Ayrton.
    “They are Outsiders, too,” his friend spoke in a distant voice, his eyes locked on an old, faraway memory. “And now, it’s our chance to serve the Cause. We must answer the Call.”
    “Where are you going?” Ewan’s face fell. He felt devastated. He was confused. Life had seemed so simple only yesterday.
    “To the Grand Monastery in Talmath. The patriarchs are assembling the Call there. It’s about a three days’ ride from here.” Ayrton bent down and picked up a bundle from the ground. A sword hilt stuck from one end.
    “Is that a sword?” Ewan asked, his voice trembling.
    Ayrton pursed his lips and tsked. “Might be. And before you ask, I can’t show you. It’s forbidden, until the patriarchs declare otherwise.” And they will, quite soon, he added to himself silently.
    Ewan looked around him. Some of the villagers had dispersed after the initial curiosity wore down. But most of the children and brothers hung around, their eyes gleaming. Never before had they seen anything like this.
    Ayrton tied the bundle to the back of the old harness, making sure it did not clink. He lifted the last item still unfastened, a pair of goatskins. “Help me fill these.”
    Leaving the small dun behind, the two men walked to the well. They hauled the buckets up, and carefully filled the two bags.
    Ewan stood aside, staring at his friend from the corner of his eye. He had never seen Ayrton wear such an outfit before: leathers, boiled and hard and covered in coarse hide on his shoulders, elbows, and knees. It must be some sort of uniform, he thought. The other men were garbed in much the same fashion.
    Ayrton laid a hand on Ewan’s shoulder. It was a friendly pat. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I’ll be back soon. Probably no more than a moon or two. You stay here in the monastery. You’ll be safe. Do your chores and studies, and we’ll meet again sooner than you expect.”
    Ewan nodded heavily. He wanted to believe his friend, but he knew Ayrton did not believe his own words either. And there was a lump building up in the pit of his stomach, one of anger, a rare feeling that he had felt only a few times before. The quivering hypersensation of tension that slowly imbued him was almost toxic.
    “Don’t do anything foolish,” Ayrton said and squeezed him. He had strong arms. Ewan deflated a little.
    Ayrton mounted. He waved once, a short, spartan gesture, and wheeled off to join a growing assembly of men at the outskirts of the village. Flowing from several directions, like the fingers of a great river, the riders coalesced into a solid company. They milled about for a few moments and then rode off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.
    The village square soon emptied. Ewan stood and stared.

CHAPTER 3
     
    G eneral-Patriarch Davar stood on a little knoll and watched his army converge in the valley below, readying for the night. With the combined forces of Astar and Stabir, he had close to eighty thousand swords under his command. Plus, word was getting out. Knots of mercenaries and scavengers were trickling in, hoping for their share of the spoils.
    Davar was very pleased. Only twenty years ago, he had been a fledgling priest of a young new religion being