WarBride (WARBRIDE #1) by Sylvia Mercedes EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sylvia Mercedes
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ILSEVEL
24 hours earlier
A trickle of goat blood runs across the age-cracked sacrificial stone. I watch
its slow progress, oddly fascinated. It oozes to the edge of the slab, seems to
pause for a moment, before spilling over in a gory streak to finally pool in
the gutter cut around the altar’s base. A stink of copper mingles with the
sting of incense in my nostrils. My lip curls faintly, hidden behind my
demure prayer veil.
Then I draw a deep breath, close my eyes, and brace for what I know
must come next.
It hits like a blow—a whole chorus of holy prayersong erupting all
around me, flooding my senses. Wincing, I bow my head. I can only hope I
look solemn and reverent rather than nauseated. Of course, in that assembly
of two dozen devout voices, there’s one that is just slightly off-key. That’s
the one I hear, singled out from all others. He might as well be singing a
personal solo just for my benefit. It’s impossible to concentrate on anything
else.
Not for the first time, I bite back curses aimed at the very gods who
blessed me with the gift of song on the day of my christening. I’m pretty
sure they were having a laugh when they did it, amused at the prospect of
how often my ears would be offended by less than perfect pitch. It’s a
useless gift as far as I’m concerned. Sure, people like to hear me sing. Sure,
I can play any instrument I put my hand to. So what? Anyone could learn to
do the same with a little bit of effort. I don’t see why the gods felt the need
to get involved . . . unless it was to spite my father.
They tell me that King Larongar went on a quest when he was young—
back when he was just a prince, and a younger son at that, not the sovereign
he is today. Supposedly he climbed to the summit of Mount Helesatra,
defeated the dragon which sleeps there, and claimed the right of gods-gifts
for his future offspring. No doubt he hoped the gods would dole out useful
sorts of gifts which he could use according to his ambitions. A war gift,
especially. A gift for strategy would have been acceptable as well. Even an
affinity for spellcraft would do. Something exciting. Something worthy of
divine bequeathal.
Instead he got the lot of us: my older brother, Theodre, who is beautiful
as the day; my older sister, Faraine, who gets headaches from other people’s
emotions; and my younger sister, Aurae, who dances like a dream.
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