A Sellsword's Will Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

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  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Newsletter

  Come say hi!

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A Sellsword’s Will: Book Five of the Seven Virtues

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Copyright © 2018 Jacob Nathaniel Peppers. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Visit the author website: http://www.jacobpeppersauthor.com

  To Josh

  Thank you for pestering me to try “this amazing fantasy book”

  Without you,

  I might never have started reading again.

  Without reading,

  I would have only led one life.

  Instead, I’ve lived thousands

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  Chapter

  One

  It ran. It did not find joy in the feel of the wind against its face, did not feel awe from moving at a pace far greater than any leaping deer or sprinting lion. It paid no heed to the briars that cut at its skin and clothes as it sped through the forest, nor did it take notice of the dust that flew up from the trail with each touch of its feet, coating its clothes and face. Such joys and aggravations belonged in the world of men and though it ran upright as a man would, wore clothes that a man might wear, it was a man no longer, and the truest thing that might be said of it was that it did not hold even enough humanity to recognize the loss. It had no real interest in its destination or the task to which it had been set, yet it would see it through. That was, after all, its purpose. And so it ran.

  It did not think the way men thought, of wants and dreams and hopes, nor did it even think as some animal might, guided by instinct and self-preservation. For it, there was nothing but the task it had been given, the duty it must perform. Once, it had felt such things as a man might, but not anymore, and any memory of such was buried beneath vaguely remembered agony, drowned out by the sound of screams as the blade dug further and further into flesh, as some yet unknown malevolent darkness grew within those wounds, those scars, twisting the man it had once been, breaking and cracking and reshaping until what was left was no longer human.

  It ran on, bent nearly double, its unnaturally long arms trailing behind it, the tip of the unusually long, slender sword sheathed at its back nearly dragging on the ground. It was close now, it knew, to the place it must go, to the city with its white walls and its people. The trees and their leaves flashed by it in, what to most, would have been a vague blur of green. But as the creature’s speed had been improved so, too, had its vision, and it could make out each blade of grass, each leaf shifting in the wind as it passed, yet it paid them no attention. There was only it and the wind pushing against it with invisible hands, as if even it wished to bar the path of the unnatural thing. Its heightened sight picked out three figures further down the path and it jerked to an abrupt halt. Dust billowed around it in a cloud, and the maelstrom of leaves and twigs that had followed its passage slowly settled back to the earth.

  The dust cleared, and three figures dressed all in black stood on the path in front of it. Even their faces were wrapped tightly in black cloth, so the creature could make out little more than their eyes. It cocked its head, curious, but the men made no move, nor did they speak, only stood and regarded the creature in its tattered, hooded gray cloak. The creature was covered in dust from the road and in several places branches had scored its clothing leaving bloody welts across its flesh, yet it felt nothing. For several minutes, the creature and the three figures only stood studying each other in silence.

  Then the figures moved as if on cue and, had there been someone there to see it, they would have been amazed at the speed with which the swords sheathed at their backs appeared in their hands. Yet even their shocking speed appeared sluggish compared to the creature’s own as it whipped the long, slender blade from its own sheath and held it up at an angle behind it, the tip pointing toward the sky.

  They watched each other, the dry dust of the road still settling between them. Then, without warning, the creature burst forward in blur of motion, its blade aimed at the figure on the left. The figure’s sword rose, blocking the initial strike, but it could not compete with the creature’s unnatural speed as it flew past, dragging its sword around the parry, so that it cut a deep furrow into the man’s arm.

  The black-clad man did not cry out or scream, did not even so much as grunt as his sword dropped from his hand. His arm, now useless, hung at his side, the black sleeve that covered it quickly soaking through with blood. The creature stopped and turned back, expecting to see the man fall from the blow, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned along with the other two, the only indication that he’d been hurt at all displayed by a slight sway to his movements. The creature cocked its head again, surprised to see the figure still standing. The blow, it knew, would not be immediately fatal, but the arm would never work properly again as the cre
ature had made sure to sever the tendons.

  The wounded man turned to look at his comrades who watched him with gazes that seemed to feel nothing. Then, as if by some unspoken accord, the unarmed figure moved to take a place in front of his comrades, leaving a trail of blood on the dry dust of the forest path as he walked. The creature studied him with dead eyes, bringing its sword, now coated in crimson, up at an angle once more. It charged forward again, its feet seeming to barely touch the ground at all as it flew toward the three figures, its blade aimed at one of its two uninjured opponents.

  Just before the sword struck home, the wounded man threw himself in front of the blade, wrapping his body around it. The long slender blade cut deep into his midsection, nearly tearing out the other side, but the man curled himself around the blade—and the arm that held it—jerking the creature to an abrupt stop. It stared at the bloody figure latched onto its arm. The man was nearly cut in two, yet there was still life in his eyes. Life and purpose. He did not attack or retreat, only held on grimly, refusing to let go or be dislodged.

  The creature stared at the two remaining black figures as they stepped closer, raising their swords, and it cocked its head again, surprised that this one would give his life knowingly in such a way. It pivoted and pulled at the sword, and the sharpened steel ripped its way through the wounded figure. The man’s grip fell away as the blades of the other two figures drove into the creature, one through the stomach and the other down, deep into the place between its shoulder and neck.

  The creature thrashed wildly as blood fountained from the wounds, and it tried to start toward the two figures that had now pulled their blades free and taken a step back. But suddenly its feet wouldn’t obey its commands, and it cocked its head at the figures a final time before it fell to the ground, lifeless.

  ***

  The two black-clothed figures stood regarding the corpse in silence as the dust settled once more. They did not celebrate their victory, for these were men who had long since given up celebration. They turned and regarded their comrade, lying dead and nearly torn in two on the ground. They did not weep for their fallen friend, for these were men who had long since forgotten what it was to weep.

  Instead, they turned as one to look back down the path from which the creature had come, their blades held down and at an angle to the ground. Several minutes passed as they stood in silence, waiting to see if there would be more. Finally, as if by some unspoken agreement, they turned to each other. They did not speak, for speech was unnecessary. Slowly, they sheathed their swords before turning back to the dead. One walked to the creature lying in the road, grabbing its long thin blade in one hand and its ankle in the other while the other took the feet of their dead companion.

  In silence, they dragged the two corpses off the road, not concerning themselves with the blood that had spilled on the trail. Soon, they knew, nature would do what it always did, what it was so good at, and the dust and the rain would obliterate any evidence of the mortal struggle that had taken place only moments before.

  They worked their way deep into the woods. By the time they stopped walking, night had come in full, but they paid it no attention as they lay the corpses side by side and began to gather fallen branches and dried leaves from the ground. Had they been women, they might have wept and spoken soft words from the heart over their fallen companion. Had they been men, given to sentiment, they might have dug a deep hole in the ground for the dead of their number, might have buried him with his blade in his hand, closing his eyes to the world that had, in the end, treated him so cruelly. But they did not. Instead, they continued to pile on wood for the fire in silence, their movements graceful and sure and unhurried. Finally, one withdrew a flask from inside his black garments, and poured a pungent-smelling liquid on the two bodies, soaking their clothes and the tinder beneath.

  The other withdrew from his own garments a flint, struck a spark, and soon the bodies were set aflame. Had they been only men, the two figures might have stared at that burning blaze, stood close enough to feel the heat of it as they remembered their friend, but they did not. They only picked up the creature’s blade and that of their companion. As one, they turned and started deeper into the forest, heading in the direction of a city known as Perennia, their eyes studying the darkness ahead and leaving the light behind.

  Had they been only men, they might have seen an omen in that, some dire portent of things to come, but they were not just men. They were Akalians. And they knew that to fight the creatures of darkness, a man must go out into it, must, in his way, become part of it. And they knew, also, that for what was coming, every blade would be needed.

  Chapter

  Two

  “—don’t think that we have any other option,” Grinner said, the crime boss leaning forward in his chair and staring at the queen as if she were the only person in the room. “Foremost on our mind, Majesty, must be keeping you safe.”

  Hale barked a laugh at that, slamming his hand down on the table. “I’d watch out, if I were you, Queen,” he said. “I reckon there’s some folks in the Downs would tell you all about Grinner’s idea of ‘safe,’ if they could talk. They can’t, you understand, on account of they’re dead.”

  The old crime boss’s face went crimson at that. “Why, you stupid oaf, what do you know of …”

  Aaron stopped listening, sighing heavily and sharing a look with Adina, seeing his own impatience mirrored in her expression. Since he and the others returned to Perennia, the leaders of the alliance had spent the last two weeks arguing over what the best course of action would be, yet they weren’t any closer to coming to an agreement than they had been. “Gentlemen, please,” Queen Isabelle said for what was at least the fifth time of the day, “we are all on the same side here.”

  The two crime bosses scowled at each other, and Aaron thought that if blades were allowed in the queen’s audience chamber, they’d end the day with a lot fewer allies. Of course, he thought, that would at least have the added bonus of putting an end to the arguing, however it turned out. Wasn’t an easy thing to argue with a corpse. Then again, if anyone was capable of it, it would have been one of the two bastards sitting across the room, looking less friendly than a headsman and his victim.

  “Very well,” Grinner said, straightening his back with affected dignity, “as Your Majesty says, we are on the same side. All of us understand the threat as it stands, and I think that should be good enough reason to support my suggestion. After all, if there are any more of those…those creatures, then I do not think the city walls—even as fine as they are”—he nodded his head to the queen—“will keep them out for long. The only real option is to get you out of the city, my Queen. I cannot assure your protection here, but in the Downs…”

  He trailed off as Hale broke into a fit of laughter. “Sure,” he said, wiping his eyes as he glanced at Isabelle, “I wouldn’t trust this one, not a bit, queenie. Once you’re away from all your soldiers, best case he murders you. Worst case, the old bastard tries to marry you.”

  Grinner looked aghast. “You stupid ignorant wretch, I’d never—”

  “Enough,” Isabelle said, holding up a hand for silence, and the two men subsided into scowls once more. “Sir,” she said, turning to Grinner, “you have made your position quite clear, I assure you, and I have no wish to rule any strategy out. Still, I do not like the idea of fleeing like a kicked dog with my tail between my legs before battle has even been joined. It will not send a good message to the soldiers.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Your Highness,” General Yalleck said, nodding his head stiffly. “It would be foolishness of the highest order to abandon as defensible a position as we have here to travel across the breadth of Telrear in hopes of reaching Avarest without being accosted by this Kevlane or his…men. And even if we were somehow to make it—an outcome I find highly unlikely—what then? I am, of course, honored to serve the people of my city, Majesty, but Avarest’s walls are no match for your own. No,” he said, shakin
g his head, “it would be better to remain here, to show this Kevlane the strength of our steel and our arrows behind the protection your fine walls afford us.”

  Hale snorted. “Protection, is it? Now,” he said, looking around at the rest of the room, taking in Adina, Aaron, and Captain Gant as well as the queen, “I don’t know about you all, but I got a pretty good look at that fucker Silent and those others dragged back here. If there’s any more of those bastards floatin’ around, well, I don’t suppose as this toy wall will do much to stop ‘em. No offense, of course,” he said, winking at the queen.

  Aaron suppressed another sigh, knowing what the man would say even before he said it. After all, he’d had occasion to hear it almost every day for the past two weeks. “Nah, you see,” the big crime boss said, “way I figure it, we march out into that forest there, meet ‘em as the bastards come through with arrows and cold steel, usin’ the trees to hide when we have to. Shit, ain’t so different than how we do things in the Downs, truth be told, and from what Silent told us, the big bastards are slow. Ought to be an easy enough thing to hide in the trees and retreat when we have to, only to come back at ‘em just as soon as they think they’ve run us off.”

  “Fool,” Grinner spat, “you speak of suicide.”

  “Oh, don’t worry your little head none,” Hale said, nodding at the big bodyguard standing behind where Grinner sat, “you’ve got your little doggy there to keep you safe enough, I’d guess. Or is it that he only unsheathes his sword at night, when you two are alone?”

  The older crime boss sputtered at that. “How…how dare you?”

  Hale opened his mouth to reply, but Aaron spoke first. “It wouldn’t work.” The crime lord swallowed whatever he’d been about to say, and they all turned to look at him in surprise, as if they’d forgotten he was there. No shock, really, considering that he’d spent the last two weeks mostly listening to the leaders of the alliance argue and hadn’t ventured to speak much himself.