The Traitor’s Spell by P.C. Darkcliff EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: P.C. Darkcliff
- Language: English
- Genre: Coming of Age Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
A chilly wind blew from the Harshwind Mountains and whistled among
the leather tents of the human and Firelven army. It ruffled Baard’s
long, fair hair and made him feel as if icy fingers clawed at his beard.
Walking beside him, Diara huddled in a coat, her thick, black braid hidden
under a fur-trimmed hood. Snow crunched under their boots as they
patrolled the encampment.
Baard often glanced at the no man’s land, the vast plain that separated
them from the frontline of the Wrathlords, Daemorcs, and Corpsentinels. It
had been a fortnight since the last battle. Everyone feared the monsters
would soon counterattack to further devastate his army.
The relentless wind tugged on the guy ropes and twitched the flaps as if it
wanted to peek inside the tents. It stirred eddies of snow and fanned the
dying embers of cooking fires, making them glow red. A few hours past its
zenith, the late-winter sun struggled to burn through the mist that wallowed
on the no-man’s land.
Baard cursed when the wind brought a faint groaning. Gravelackers, the
rotting, staggering undead were coming. Although they had gorged
themselves on the flesh of those who had died on the battlefield, the
Gravelackers seemed to be hungry again. They circled the encampment,
drawn by the smell of blood and pus that came from the infirmary, where
hundreds of soldiers were still recovering from the battle.
Calmly like a weathered warrior, Diara reached for her sword belted over
her coat. She was the only person Baard had brought to the frontline from
his old life, and she was not the girl she had been back in their village. She
still had those dark, cat-like eyes that had made him fall for her years ago,
and the rosebud lips that made him think of kissing. Her eyes were now
more knowing, though, her smile much more seldom.
They both had
undergone enough dangers for a lifetime. And reeled from the lost battle.
Drawing his magical sword Dragonfang, Baard hurried over the trampled
snow toward a thicket from which the groaning came. Diara rushed behind
him, and about fifteen soldiers outran them, their swords unsheathed, their
conical steel caps glistening weakly in the winter sunshine. All those who
had escaped the battle unscathed patrolled around the camp to prevent the
Gravelackers from creeping into the infirmary . . .
while keeping an eye on
the no man’s land to make sure the towering Daemorcs and antlered
Corpsentinels weren’t coming. As he rushed after the soldiers, he spotted his friend, Ufi. He was coming
at a fast trot from the other side, along with Al’Anark, the Firelven chieftain
whose army had helped Baard conquer Zaagretaah.
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