The Shadow's Heir (The Risen Sun) Read Online Free Page A

excitement, through the cloud of misery that had been hanging over her head ever since her father’s death.
    Toward the end of her second week on the road, she had fallen in with a group of traders who had let her ride on the back of a cart in exchange for a few oblong. One of them, walking behind it, had been watching her curiously, and now he took a few long strides to catch up with the cart.
    “Hullo,” he said.
    Laela woke up from her daydream and looked at him. “Yeah?”
    “Just wanted someone t’talk to,” said the man.
    Laela yawned. “All right.”
    “So, where are yer goin’? I got to say, it’s not that often yer find a woman travelling alone.”
    “I ain’t goin’ anywhere in particular,” said Laela.
    “Well,” said the man, “yer gonna have to pick a destination soon, ’cause we’re gonna be enterin’ the Northgates pretty soon.”
    Laela started at that. “How soon?”
    He squinted ahead. “I’d say the next day or so by my reckonin’. But y’wanna be on yer way before that happens.”
    “Why would yeh be goin’ into the Northgates?” said Laela. “Yeh ain’t goin’ into the North, are yeh?”
    “’Course not,” said the traveller. “Use yer brain, girl. There’s not a Southerner in Cymria would go
there
, not for love or money.”
    Laela sat back and thought. It had been a long time since any Southerner had gone North, that was very true. Once upon a time, the North had been Cymrian territory—ruled over by griffiners. The lords of the land, given power by their partnership with griffins. They had conquered the North centuries ago, and its inhabitants had become either slaves or vassals.
    But that was before what was now referred to as the Dark War, or the War of the Darkmen. That had been before Lord Arenadd Taranisäii, a renegade Northerner, had allied himself with an extremely powerful griffin and led a rebellion against the griffiners. Together, the man Southerners called the Dark Lord Arenadd and the griffin, simply called “the dark griffin,” had ruthlessly slaughtered and burned their way through the griffiner cities in the North. Any Southerner living there had been killed or driven out, and in the end, the rebels had captured Malvern, the capital city, and massacred its inhabitants.
    Today, the North was its own country, and Arenadd Taranisäii was its King. And no Southerner would ever enter it unless he was stupid, or insane.
    Still.
    “So why are yeh goin’ into the mountains if yeh ain’t gonna go through ’em?” Laela asked. “What’s the point?”
    “We’re goin’ to Guard’s Post,” the traveller explained. “The men livin’ there don’t get much in the way of supplies, so they’re happy to buy them off us.”
    Laela nodded to herself. In that case, she would stay with this cart until it got to Guard’s Post, and when it arrived she would do whatever she had to to pass beyond it and into the North. And if the men living in it resisted, well . . .
    She reached into her bundle of possessions and fingered the bag of oblong, which was still nearly full. Her father had taught her that a sword was the best persuasion, but Laela had always thought money worked far better.
    •   •   •
    W ith that in mind, she stayed with the cart for the next two days, ignoring her new acquaintance’s suggestions for her to leave before they reached Guard’s Post.
    By midmorning of the second day, the Northgates loomed ahead. She had never seen mountains before, and these looked enormous to her. She watched them as the cart trundled on, marvelling at their sheer, rocky slopes and wondering why and how anyone would ever climb them.
    Fortunately—of course—the cart and its owners weren’t going to try. The road led them to a wide pass that led through the mountains, and they entered it at around midday and then trundled along it, walled in by cliffs on either side.
    Laela shivered and pulled her dress over her legs. The cliffs were high, and it