The Name Of The Sword (Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

enhanced her awareness of it even further. But now . . . nothing . . . not the faintest glimmer. Slowly she spun down just as a toy top spins down, and finally collapsed in a heap in the mud, exhausted.
    She’d watched Salula kill Morgin just moments ago. He was truly dead, and of that, she was now certain. She’d been mistaken about the skree killing him, but this time she’d felt him die, had sensed his soul depart the Mortal Plane. Laying in the mud with the halfman standing over her, she could not hold back the sobs that racked her body.
    “Blast you, woman!”
    Salula’s rough hands gripped the front of her dress and lifted her to her feet, held her there dangling with her toes barely touching the ground. She opened her eyes and looked into his face, looked into the kind and friendly face of the swordsman France, noticed a runnel of blood trickling down his cheek. But she made the mistake of looking into those inhuman eyes; she saw Salula and had to look away. Wearily, she said, “I tell you he’s dead. You killed him, and I felt him die.”
    He tossed her to the ground and she landed painfully on her shoulder. She had already learned that if she tried to just lay there he’d kick her until she stood, so she struggled to her feet, though the weight of the mud caking her simple, homespun dress made it even more difficult to stand.
    “Then where was the body?” he demanded. “And where is that damn sword?”
    She shook her head wearily, dislodging several clots of mud clumped in her hair. “I don’t know. But that cave was heavily enchanted. In any case, I can no longer sense the blade so it too must have left the Mortal Plane, though that blade is not going to simply die.”
    He reached out and gripped her arm, turned and shoved her toward the horses. She barely managed to keep her feet as she slammed into the side of one of the animals. Salula gripped her by the waist, lifted her as if she weighed nothing and plopped her into the saddle. He tied her hands to the saddle horn as he grumbled, “Then it’s back to Durin for us.”
    He tied the reins of her horse to his own saddle horn, then mounted up and led her away. The trail down the side of Attunhigh was steep and dangerous, so they moved slowly and it took almost an entire day to get back down to the foothills. As night settled upon them he stopped and dismounted. Still sitting in the saddle, Rhianne considered putting her heels to her horse’s flanks and trying to run. But Salula must have guessed her thoughts. Holding the reins of her horse he wagged them at her and smiled. “It won’t work, girl. Not while I hold these. And that’ll only earn you another beating.”
    They unrolled sleeping blankets. He lit no fire, clearly afraid of the attention it might draw. Dinner consisted of jerky, journeycake and water. Autumn was not far off, and Rhianne spent the night shivering with only a single blanket to warm her.
    In the morning they headed north up the east side of the Lake of Sorrows. Clearly, Salula wanted to stay far away from the Benesh’ere camp on the west shore. They also avoided Norlakton to the north, traveling on game trails through the forest until they reached Gilguard’s Ford.
    Before crossing the ford Salula turned to her and said, “The God’s Road will be heavily traveled. But if you think to call out and get help from some traveler, you’ll only get them killed, and gain yourself a beating instead of an evening meal.”
    Rhianne had no doubt the vicious bastard could make good on such a threat.
    From there Salula pushed them hard, slowed to walk the horses only when needed, and didn’t stop until well after dark. Each morning they returned to the road at sunup. Travelers on the road frequently took note of the filthy woman on horseback, but if they thought to inquire about her condition, the look on Salula’s face turned them away quickly.
    Rhianne drifted beyond exhaustion into a state of listlessness, and lost count of