Dragonlance: Kingpriest, Book 01 - Chosen Of The Gods by Chris Pierson

Dragonlance: Kingpriest, Book 01 - Chosen Of The Gods by Chris Pierson

Author:Chris Pierson [Pierson, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-1902-4
Published: 2021-05-01T16:00:00+00:00


They met down in Luciel, and gathered inside the tavern—Cathan and Gareth, Tavarre and Vedro, Ilista and Beldyn. Caked in road-dust, the Knight drank a flagon of raw wine to moisten his throat, then told what he had seen. Cathan nodded breathlessly as the others stared in shock.

“Well,” Tavarre said when he was finished, and sighed.

“Perhaps they won’t come here,” Ilista said. “This is a small town… .”

“They’ll come,” Vedro growled.

Everyone looked into the room’s corners, trying not to meet one another’s gaze. In the end, it was Beldyn who coughed softly and spoke.

“We must leave, then,” he said. “All of us.”

Tavarre looked up, meeting the monk’s burning gaze. After a moment, he nodded and turned to Cathan. “Did they see you?”

“No, but they’ll find the bodies of their men,” Cathan replied, “and we left tracks.”

Vedro cursed, slapping his thigh in frustration. “It’ll have to be tonight, then. They’ll send riders ahead and have our heads if they find us here.”

“Where can we go?” Gareth asked.

“Govinna,” said Tavarre, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. “Ossirian will take us in—and he has to be told the army’s in Taol.”

Ilista cleared her throat. “You’re all forgetting the Longosai” she said. “Beldyn, how many still have to be healed?”

“Only eight,” he replied.

Vedro swore again, and the others slumped, looking defeated. They looked at one another hopelessly, and Ilista could tell they were all sharing the same terrible thought The sick couldn’t make the journey, but sunset was only three hours off. Already Beldyn looked tired, and wisps of holy light clung to him like clouds to the peak of a mountain. His strength was leaving him. No one wanted to say the words that flashed through their minds, though it was the only choice left. They had to leave the eight sick people behind, if the rest of Luciel were to live.

Beldyn’s mouth hardened into a line, however, and he pushed away his mug of wine, untouched. “Bring them,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” Ilista asked as everyone turned to look at him. “Beldyn, don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have the strength right now—”

He glared back at her, and her voice failed her. There was something terrible in his gaze, a ferocity she hadn’t seen before.

“I said I’ll take care of it,” he declared. “We’re not leaving anyone.”

Ilista wanted to protest, to talk sense into him, but the blaze of his eyes stilled her tongue. It was a fanatic’s look, and it made her uneasy.

Glancing around the room, she saw the rest of them watching her hopefully. They wanted to believe—and who was she to deny them? Looking back at Beldyn once more, the fierceness in his eyes, she could only nod and sigh.

“Very well, then,” she said. “Do as he says.”



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