The Vlakan King (Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

reaching out into the corridor. There was a muffled noise and the sound of something heavy dragged across the stone. They did not move as the sounds enveloped them. The room lightened leaving the interior dark as before.
    "You may go," said a muffled voice. Machel and Lockwell hurried to the door, which shut once they passed through it. The two Celaeri soldiers were gone. A curved Celaeri sword lay on the dirt but they did not pick it up. They hurried back up the passage.
    The steward waited for them on the upper level. He did not comment on their bloodless faces for they had talked with Lady Galamog and lived after all. They deserved the respect of ignoring their fear.
    "I will take you to your rooms where you can refresh. In an hour I will escort you to Pashar Bei's enclave."
    It was all they could do to nod. Their voices had not yet returned to their control. The steward led them through winding corridors and stairs to a large chamber that was bright and warm. Lockwell and Machel each had a private chamber off the main room. They embraced the warmth and tried to shake the grip of Galamog from them.
    Lockwell sat at the table in his quarters refilling his wine goblet when Machel Moet returned from bathing.
    "My hands are still shaking," said Machel.
    "Pour some wine. It is helping my tremors," said Lockwell. "I've had three goblets already and I don't intend to stop until the jug is empty."
    "Galamog.."
    "She is one of the Jungeguds. I have been in the presence of those touched by a god, as you yourself have been."
    "Tag Makk."
    "Exactly. But today was the closest I've been to a god myself."
    "We didn't even see what she looked like."
    "That may have been a good thing," said Lockwell. "She does not seem to be concerned with choosing a form to comfort her followers. I do not think I want to see her true form."
    "Those soldiers did."
    "Your tone implies you do not agree with my choice."
    "You did what was necessary for us to live," said Machel.
    "Exactly. Perhaps Ioane knew what the required tribute would be. We were sent without tribute. If the soldiers were not close by would we be sitting here now? Where does that leave us with the Celaeri?"
    "The company is already on its way. They were to leave a week after we did."
    "Let's see who leads it. I could meet them and you keep hidden. If your absence isn't questioned then we have our answer."
    "Partially. Would Ioane have arranged for an alternative plan? If both of us were to become tribute then even your appearance may put another plan in motion. I do not underestimate Ioane Adan."
    "I will be ready for it," said Lockwell. "I am not without my sharp edges."
    "I couldn't find any of my magic in Galamog's chamber," said Machel Moet. "Not that any of it would have been helpful. What about you?"
    "I was cut off from my magic as well. Galamog alone has power in that chamber. She has been weaving it for centuries."
    "What about the story of the Faerion?" asked Machel Moet. "Navir and Wynne the sorceress defeated Galamog using the magic of that book. Was the story true?"
    "I heard that one too. I have not found any evidence to say it never happened but I have not spoken to Navir about it. I never met Wynne. At one time she was a pleasant young woman but over the years it is told she has become harsh and critical. She keeps to herself in Toraba. The fact that the story concerns actual people lends some credence to it."
    "Tell me about Navir."
    "I only met him twice and he didn't appear as I expected him to be. He is a tall Daerlan with handsome features, nothing out of the ordinary. He certainly does not look like an aged Daerlan let alone the eldest creature walking on Landermass outside of Kerreth Veralier. His eyes are deep and grey and that's where you can see his wisdom. However you would not guess him to be a singular Daerlan when you meet him. Unremarkable is how I would describe him."
    "Hmm. I'd like some of that wine now."
    It was mid-morning when their guide knocked on the