The Swordmage Trilogy Bundle, Volumes 1-3 Read Online Free Page A

the edge of the square.
    The slaver had brought them here to teach them the consequences of rebellion. It was an age-old trick. Kill the usurper and keep the rest of the subjects in line. It was a trick Royce had used himself from time to time.
    The slaver shifted from one foot to the other. Royce expected that he knew a trap when he walked into one, but he had offered the girl little mercy. He should expect none himself.
    “So she dies as an example, the others fall in line.” Royce was stalling now and he couldn’t fathom why.
    “Y-yes, Mi’lord.”
    Royce nodded, scratching his gray-black beard with gnarled fingers.
    “How much,” he asked after a long pause.
    “Mi’lord?”
    “How much did you pay for her? Surely she must have been quite a nuisance for you to waste perfectly good coin on executing her as an example. You could have done it with your own blade for free. But, then I don’t suppose you like getting your hands bloody. So I ask you again, how much did you pay?”
    The slaver's eyes darted from Royce to the girl and back again. The trap was sprung, he knew. Now all that was left was to see how much of his leg he'd have to lose to get free.
    “Twenty crowns, Mi’lord. And a pair of aurochs.”
    Royce raised an eyebrow. “That's no small sum.”
    “Well, sir, she is untouched,” the man blurted, then snapped his jaws shut as if he could cut the words off before they slipped out. He knew he had said too much.
    “Ah.” It was a softly spoken syllable, almost a sigh. Royce looked from the slaver down to the girl. He knelt and with a gentle touch, flipped her shift down to hide the bruises. “So you were looking to sell her to a man, then. One with, shall we say, peculiar tastes. Surely you’d have gotten top crown for her once she was fully functional.”
    “Not worth it,” Cerrin sneered. “She’s worth more to me minus her head.”
    Royce stood, his hand dropping to his belt. It hovered there a moment, poised over the foot-long dagger that was sheathed there. Beads of sweat stood out across the slaver's brow. He licked his lips in a constant nervous motion, his eyes watching Royce's hand and the blade hilt for any movement.
    “You’ve no right,” the Magistrate interrupted, stepping forward. Royce merely looked at him. The Magistrate withered under his glare. “Fine, do as you will.” He threw his hands up and stormed off the platform, his robes swirling around his ankles.
    Slowly, Royce dropped his hand to his purse and tugged it free. He unthreaded the lace and shook some coins into his hand, dropping the first few back into the pouch and palming the larger, thicker gold coins that sparkled in the muted morning sun. Each bore an underscored numeral twenty on the face and the namesake crown of the king on the reverse.
    “Twenty crowns and two aurochs. I should think that forty crowns should cover your expenses and your, ah, inconvenience.” Royce tossed the coins at the slaver's feet. They struck the platform and bounced with a dull ring, spinning for a moment before falling flat.
    The slaver made no move to retrieve the coins. He stood there, still shifting from one foot to the other, his eyes flicking between Royce, the coins, and the girl. Royce tucked his purse back into his belt and tugged the loop from the hilt of his knife, laying his hand on the cap.
    “You’ve made your sale, slaver. Take your payment, and go. Now.”
    A sudden cry of derision burst from the crowd, breaking the tableau. Shouts went up from the commoners as they collectively realized they had been denied any more entertainment for the day. The slaver snatched up the coins and scampered off the platform, dodging and weaving through the crowd of hands that tried to pluck the coins from his grasp and the purse from his belt.
    Royce took a knee beside the girl and put a rough hand under her chin. A shock went through his fingers, traveled up his arm, and down his spine, settling into the pit of his stomach like