The Nomad Read Online Free Page A

whore,” Valsavis said. “I know of them.” Before coming to the palace, he had first stopped at several taverns frequented by known informers and with the knowledge he already had from Veela, it was not difficult to piece together most of the story and separate the probable from the improbable. “Apparently, they came through Tyr, across the barrens and the Barrier Mountains, to cause some trouble for a suitor of one of your brood. I gather it was fatal for the suitor, and the girl in question has gone over to the Veiled Alliance.”
    “Your sources are accurate, as ever,” said the Shadow King, “but it is not some slip of a rebellious daughter that concerns me now. It is the elven myth.”
    “About his being some fated king of all the elves?” Valsavis asked with amusement. “It is said he bears the sword of ancient elven kings—Galdra, I believe it’s called. A wandering stranger and a fabled sword. What better fodder for a minstrel? He slays a few of your slow-witted giants and drunken bards make him the hero of the moment. Surely you do not give credence to such nonsense?”
    “It is far from nonsense,” Nibenay replied. “Galdra exists, but it seems you have heard the bastardized version of the myth. The bearer of Galdra is not the King of Elves, according to the prophecy, but the Crown of Elves. So if the legend is true, then he is not a king, but a king-maker.”
    “Shall I kill him for you, then?”
    “No,” Nibenay replied firmly. “Not yet. First, find for me the king that this Nomad would make. The crown shall lead you to the king.”
    Valsavis frowned. “Why should you be concerned about an elven king? The elves are tribal, they don’t even desire a king.”
    “The Crown of Elves, according to the legend, will not merely empower an elven king, but a great mage, a ruler who shall bring all of Athas under his thrall,” said Nibenay.
    “Another sorcerer-king?” Valsavis asked.
    “Worse,” Nibenay replied with a sibilant hiss. “So find this king for me, and the crown shall be your prize, to dispose of as you will.”
    Valsavis raised his eyebrow at the thought that any coming ruler could be worse than a sorcerer-king, but he kept his peace. Instead, he addressed himself to more immediate concerns. “So I trail this elfling for you, find and kill the king that he would make, and for my trouble, you offer me nothing but the elfling and his woman, to dispose of as I wish? Who would ransom such a pair? Even on the slave markets, they would bring a paltry reward in return for all my effort.”
    “You would bargain with me?” the dragon king said, lashing his tail back and forth angrily.
    “No, my lord, I would never stoop to bargain. My fee for such a task would be ten thousand gold pieces.
    “What? You must be mad!” said Nibenay, more astonished than angered at his temerity.
    “It is a price you could easily afford,” Valsavis said. “Such a sum means nothing to you, and a comfortable old age for me. With such an incentive, I would approach my task with zeal and vigor. Without it, I would face my old age and infirmity alone and destitute.” He shrugged. “I might as well refuse and be killed now than die so mean a death.”
    In spite of himself, the dragon king chuckled. The mercenary’s arrogance amused him, and it had been a long time since he had felt amused. “Very well. You will have your ten thousand in gold. And I will even throw in one of my young wives to care for you in your dotage. Is that incentive enough for you?”
    “Will I have my choice from among your harem?” Valsavis asked.
    “As you please,” the dragon king replied. “They mean nothing to me anymore.”
    “Very well, then. Consider it done,” Valsavis said, turning to leave.
    “Wait,” said the Shadow King. “I have not yet dismissed you.”
    “There is something more, my lord?”
    “Take this,” said Nibenay, holding out a ring to him with his clawed fingers. It was made of gold and carved in