Wrath of a Mad God Read Online Free Page B

exit and whispered to Alenca, “You asked that youngster to stir things up?”
    “I thought his timing was perfect.”
    “You are a very dangerous man, my old friend.”
    “Now we wait,” said Alenca. “But I think we’ll have a full agreement tonight, and I cannot see any other course of action than the one you suggest.”
    As they walked back toward Miranda’s quarters, she said, “I hope so, and I hope my plan works. Otherwise we must ready the Empire for war against the most belligerent warlord in your history.”
     
    Two hundred men stood ready, honor guards from four of the nearest estates in the province, answering the call of the Great Ones of Tsuranuanni without hesitation. They were arrayed in two groups, each under the command of a Great One awaiting orders from Miranda. While peace had reigned throughout the Empire for more than a generation, Tsurani discipline and training remained unchanged. These were tough, determined men ready to die for the honor of their lords’ houses.
    Miranda and a dozen Great Ones walked slowly up the ridge to where she had first caught sight of the Dasati dome. She spoke softly. “Everyone ready?”
    Men nodded and glanced at one another. Not one living Great One of the Empire had seen any sort of conflict: the last Great One to die in combat had done so in the Riftwar, more than a hundred years ago. These were scholarly men, not warriors. But these magicians were those best able to bring incredible power to bear if the need arose.
    Slowly the thirteen magic-users, arguably the most powerful practitioners of the arcane arts, moved up the hill. At the rise, Miranda actually stood up on tiptoe to peer over, and then she said, “Damn!”
    Before them was an empty vale, the only evidence of Dasati occupation being a large circle of blackened earth where the sphere had been.
    “They’re gone,” said one of the younger magicians.
    “They’ll be back,” said Miranda, turning her back. Taking a breath, she said, “I suggest you spread the word to every house in the Empire, that every village and farmstead, valley and dell, every isolated nook and cranny, be inspected, searched, and searched again.” She looked at every face nearby. “They will be back, and next time it won’t be a small dome. I think next time they’ll be coming to stay.”

CHAPTER 2
GAMBIT
    J ommy frowned.
    Sitting under a canvas cloth hastily rigged to provide shelter from the pitiless rain, he hugged his knees to his chest, and said, “But what I don’t understand is why?”
    Servan, huddled next to the young officer, replied, “We don’t ask why; we simply follow orders.” They sat on a hillside, overlooking a distant cove: a vantage point that prevented anyone from arriving without being noticed. The problem for the moment was that the rain shrouded the area and lowered visibility to the point at which someone was required to sit close by; in this case, that someone was Servan, and Jommy had been selected to sit with him.
    Jommy regarded his companion. The slender face, dark hair matted wet against his forehead, had aged dramatically in the last few months. An arduous life on the march had drained pounds from his youthful frame, while days in the sun and sleeping on the ground had given a tough, leathery quality to his skin. The court-bred noble whom Jommy had come to know well over the last few months had been replaced by a young veteran embarking on his third campaign in as many months.
    Never friends, the two, along with their other four companions—Tad, Zane, Grandy, and Geoffry—had come to appreciate one another as reliable colleagues. In the relatively short time since they had been unceremoniously taken from the university at Roldem and cast into the role of young soldiers of rank, they had received an intensive tutelage in the reality of military life. To Jommy’s unending irritation, Servan had been appointed senior for this campaign, which meant Jommy was expected to follow his