Thorn
The Shepherd, Book III
A Novel by Jeffrey B. Linn
All Rights Reserved

Chapter VI

The sentries were clad in mail with rapiers dangling from their belts. The hair had recently been riven from their skulls in some rude manner, leaving bare patches of scars. (Thus I comprehended with revulsion the odd blotching on their cloaks.) They had the same cadaverous complexion of their leader.

The giant was simply indescribable. He was clad in thick leather with plates of armor strapped to his shoulders, chest, and legs, from which dagger blades protruded outward in all directions. A helmet with spikes standing out to the sides concealed his face.

"You have founded your home," resumed their commander, "upon Carrion Field." He let his words sink in. "It is seeded with the bones of faithful ones betrayed," he cackled, then shouted, "The land is cursed! It is Thorn's inheritance, but it is desecrated such that both he and it are possessions of the dragon!" His voiced lowered. "My people in the hills have been strengthening to the curse as we speak. Soon it will be as if you were never here, save for a fresh wetting of the execrated soil. Then our impediment to Alazoneia and the hamlets of the plain will have been removed." At this he walked to his central post and turned to face us, waiting.

"Boy!" whispered the gatekeeper. I was at his side in an instant, grateful that he had not revealed my name in such company. "Get thee to mentor in the inner chamber. Relate all that you have witnessed to the intercessors. Then--" he paused, "you are released from our service."

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