The Infernal Lands (The Aionach Saga Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

longer than anyone knew; so long
in fact, that the strange lettering on its surface was as dingy and faded as
the cavern itself. The savory tang of Gazhakk’s spices wafted to Lizneth’s
nostrils, and she couldn’t help but stop and pick up a pinch or two of this or
that before she went on. The Goatbrothers, Nurnik and Skee, were guiding their
herds across the cliffside, bickering at each other in perfect harmony with the
bleating of their animals. They suspended their argument long enough to wave
down at Lizneth as she passed.
    All the villagers in Tanley were cordial, but their smiles
couldn’t outshine the gloom that hung over them.
    The tiny cottage Lizneth shared with her parents and twenty
siblings was simple but well-fashioned. A comforting warmth greeted her as she entered
and closed the thick ironwood door behind her. Lizneth was taller than both her
parents, and she had to lower her head to avoid the rafters as she crossed the
worn cobbled floor to the hearth. Her brothers and sisters were crowded around
the gnarled ironwood table, gorging themselves on a thick stew of meat and
vegetables. The youngest nestlings had missed more than they’d eaten; the fur
on their snouts was matted, and scraps of food clung to their faces like beards.
    “A good harvest today,” Papa said, nodding towards the basket
under Lizneth’s arm. He hobbled across the room to join Mama, his kind face
stiffening as he lowered himself into his chair.
    “Rotabak and his brutes were here today,” Lizneth said,
setting the basket on the small block table near the hearth. She spooned a
helping of stew into a wooden bowl and took a seat facing her parents. Little
Raial lost a chunk of broadroot and squirmed up onto the table to chase after
it. Lizneth snatched him up by the scruff of the neck and took him into her
arms. “Sit still while you’re eating, cuzhe ,” she said, giving him a
tickle before she set him back on the bench.
    Mama gave Lizneth a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
    Lizneth nodded. “I hid in the mulligraws until they were
gone. They pulled Kroy out of the mill and made a spectacle of him in the
street. They took so much of his grain.”
    “Better his grain than him,” Papa said.
    Mama sighed. “I was beginning to think they’d forgotten about
us.”
    “Sniverlik will never forget about Tanley,” Papa said. “He
grew up here.”
    “Fortunate for us, isn’t that? The orphan turned warlord. Not
even a family here to make him stay his hand against us.”
    Papa disagreed. “Rhi and Taznik raised him. They’re as good a
family as he’s ever had, but you don’t see him giving them special treatment.
Sniverlik’s a bad seed, is all.”
    “He didn’t used to be. It’s the scepter that makes him that
way,” Mama said.
    “That’s a myth. Every new warlord the Marauders raise has wielded
the Zithstone Scepter, from time and time before. It’s a symbol of leadership.
A useless trinket.”
    “Your Papa thinks I’m a quinzhe for saying this, but I
think it’s the scepter that turned Sniverlik sour. He was such a pleasant
little nestling.”
    Papa curled his upper lip, exposing his longteeth. The
firelight made the incisors gleam like frozen waterfalls. “Do you know how
Sniverlik became warlord? He had Ankhaz stretched by the tail until lahmech .
That’s how he took power and earned the privilege to bear the scepter. He was
corrupt long before he ever touched the Zithstone. Besides, he’s got sons of
his own now, and they’re as rotten as he is.”
    “I heard he sired each of his litters on a different ledozhe ,”
Lizneth said.
    Mama shot her a look. “Lizneth. Not in front of the cuzhehn .”
    “None of those ledozhehn were willing participants,”
Papa said with a smirk.
    Mama glared. She checked to make sure none of the nestlings
were paying attention. Several had wandered off into the recesses at either end
of the room, slumping into naps, scurrying about, or staging wrestling matches
in the