He drew his dagger. The Duke’s eyes widened—not in fear, but in curiosity. Herric pressed the blade to his own forearm, just below the brand, and cut. Blood ran down his wrist, hot and red, dripping onto the marble. He cut deeper, past the skin, past the fat, until he could peel the branded flesh away from the muscle beneath.
The stairs to the great hall were unguarded. The Duke had grown complacent, believing that fear was a wall stronger than any stone. Perhaps it was. But fear did not stop a man who had already lost everything he loved. a man rides through by stephen r donaldson.pdf
The water was thigh-high and cold enough to stop a lesser man’s heart. Herric waded through it in the dark, his sword held above his head, his breath coming in short, controlled gasps. The tunnel smelled of rust and rot. Twice he slipped on algae-slicked stones. Twice he caught himself before the current could sweep him over the falls. He drew his dagger
He had killed four of them before they fled. Their blood mixed with rain on his sword. It meant nothing. Blood ran down his wrist, hot and red,
You can legally read this book as a PDF or EPUB by purchasing the ebook from legitimate vendors. If you are looking for a physical scan to read on an e-ink device, check your local library’s digital lending service (Libby/Overdrive) before resorting to gray-area websites.
The Duke laughed. It was a dry, papery sound. “You swore an oath to me. On your knees. With my brand on your arm. Do you think words mean different things just because you want them to?”