Path of the Eternal Sun by Taylor Crook & Ryan Kirk

Author:Taylor Crook & Ryan Kirk
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781953692153

30

The cart shook and bounced over the poorly maintained dirt roads on this part of Iru. Sato almost pitched forward before he was able to brace his stomach and keep himself upright. Never had the urge to swear under his breath been so strong.

By the sun, Crispin would be the death of him.

Sato was dressed in dirty rags. Clothes so dirty he wouldn’t even have cleaned blood off his sword with them. They itched, and he had no trouble imagining small bugs climbing all over his skin. He’d be diseased by the end of the night, he was sure of it.

The clothes annoyed him, but it was the rope around his wrists that really made him doubt his sanity. In so many ways, it was such a small thing to simply lose the freedom of one’s hands. But without them, Sato couldn’t interact with the world. He couldn’t wield his sword and bend it to his will. He was a helpless passenger.

And he hated it.

He hated Crispin for suggesting this foolish escapade.

But most of all, he hated himself for agreeing to give this a try.

He leaned to his right, pressing his shoulder against Roko’s. “I still don’t believe this will work.”

Roko shrugged.

Crispin, sitting across the cart from him, hands also tied together, laughed out loud. “Relax, sir! If this doesn’t work, we can always do it your way. We’ve got the time.”

Six of the sun stalkers sat in this cart, three to a side on two rough benches. Another six were in a similar cart, trailing about twenty feet behind them. The remaining stalkers were riding in a loose guard around the cart.

Sato wished he could change places with one of the guards. At least they had freedom of movement. They got to wear the armor they had rightfully earned.

Sato closed his eyes and let his imagination run wild.

He imagined himself, sitting tall on a horse at the head of a charge of sun stalkers. His family armor reflected the sun, striking fear into the heart of his enemies. In his mind, they charged the mugon encampment, swords raised high, as they fought for the honor of the Firstborn.

His shoulders relaxed and his breath came easier.

It wouldn’t be much longer. Soon enough, they would realize Crispin’s plan was a failure. The encampment wasn’t due to move until tomorrow night.

They’d attack at dawn, and his personally trained sun stalkers would begin to wipe the mugon off the face of Samas.

He couldn’t wait.

This? What they were doing now? It was so far from the Path there was no way it could work. Crispin would lose face, and all would be right with the world.

They rode on.

It had all been Crispin’s idea. The sun stalkers in the carts pretended to be farmers and peasants, caught by the sentinels for some crime. They would ride close to the mugon encampment and draw them out. The bait, said Crispin, would be too rich for them to resist.

And when the mugon came, they would find the “prisoners” were the very sentinels who hunted them.

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