The Legend of Asahiel: Book 03 - The Divine Talisman Read Online Free Page A

even suggest that he be vilified for his heroism. Others murmured an assent, but, with the general glaring down at them, were much less vocal.
    Rogun let the notion play out, then smirked with cold amusement. “Should this body wish to waste time in pursuit of such allegations, I will be more than happy to address them. Were it not for me, this city would belong already to the enemy. A wiser man would keep that foremost in his mind.”
    Grunts and murmurs were drowned out by raucous approval.
    “I wonder what our king might say,” Thaddreus mumbled when the wave of noise had subsided, “were he still alive.”
    An obvious slight, meant to remind Rogun’s supporters that the general’s victory had not come without a terrible price.
    But that was not Rogun’s fault. Nor did he appear overly troubled by it.
    “Even Torin, I’m sure, would recognize the need to comfort our citizens, by demonstrating to all that the conflict is well in hand.”
    “And is it?” Allion scoffed, raising his voice at last. “Krynwall may be safe for the moment, but our southern lands are evacuating to Kuuria, and we have yet to receive word from those farther out.”
    For more than a day now, messengers had been riding fast and furious across Pentania, bearing official tidings amid much rumor. News of events at Krynwall would just now be reaching the outer territories of Partha and Kuuria. The only return word had come from the Alsonian barony of Drakmar—and that word was less than encouraging. Apparently, both Nevik, baron of Drakmar, and Ghellenay, baroness of Palladur, had agreed to lead their people south for the protection of Kuuria and the coalition force assembled there. The decision had come after a conference with Commander Troy of Souaris, who had led a mounted division north on Allion’s heels when it was believed Rogun—and perhaps Nevik—were planning an ambush against Torin and the crown. On even this count, details were sketchy. Of matters beyond, Allion knew nothing at all. Given the attack his city had faced, it might be that others had already fallen.
    “Your friend’s death is unfortunate,” the general agreed after a moment of contemplation. Even this small concession took Allion by surprise. “For all our differences, the lad showed promise. Regardless, I daresay his loss is not as great as it could have been.”
    Allion glared, growing hot with anger. “And how is that, would you daresay ?”
    “Torin may have been the son of Sorl. But we all know it was the Sword that truly crowned him king.”
    Allion’s hand slipped instinctively to the hilt of the Crimson Sword, sheathed at his waist. “What are you implying, General?”
    “Only that Torin’s greatest asset is still with us. Remind our people of that, and they will have less cause to mourn.”
    “A blade is nothing without its wielder,” Allion reminded the other harshly. He would tolerate only so much disrespect, even from the dangerous general.
    “Indeed,” Rogun agreed, his narrowed gaze sending chills down Allion’s back. “And it occurs to me that you are an archer, not a swordsman. Perhaps, for the sake of all, the weapon should be given over to one who can best use it.”
    Allion fought down a flutter of panic. “Such as?”
    “If we are accepting nominations, I would suggest that the blade go hand in hand with the crown.”
    That raised mutters all around from those who had grown silent. Despite the general’s unassuming tone, most understood what Rogun was really saying. Allion himself had known from the moment he learned of Torin’s death that the general would make a bid for the Sword—and the throne. He just hadn’t expected it to come this soon.
    Still, Rogun had just uttered the best argument against surrendering the Sword to anyone at this juncture.
    “I have no quarrel with that,” Allion replied. It was what Torin himself had wanted, should the Sword’s more immediate beneficiaries, Marisha and Allion, agree to it.