By David Dalglish
Fear is available in the arms of prophets . . .
The ultimate instalment of the Shadowdance sequence reveals Haern the Watcher returning to his liked urban of Veldaren, simply to discover it has collapsed into chaos. The solar Guild has conquered the previous thief guilds, destroying the peace Haern fought so demanding to acquire. The Trifect is their subsequent objective, and Alyssa Gemcroft needs to achieve out to no matter what allies she will be able to locate, whether it ability casting apart longtime friends.
As the chaos grows, so does the facility of the darkish god Karak, who lays siege to Veldaren. If the town falls, the realm will undergo . . .
Father or son; a few offerings has to be made in blood.
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Extra resources for A Dance of Chaos (Shadowdance, Book 6)
She swung the polearm down in a lethal arc, and before she even knew what was happening, she was killing. The first man she took was about thirty. He had a hooked nose and a blond beard that needed a trim. His eyes were blue, and he was riding a bay horse. The armour plate he wore on his chest was dimpled where rust had been scrubbed off. Chera saw these details in a single flash that burned them into her memory, even as she twisted away from the thrust of his lance. She used the momentum of her spinning body to chop the billhook into his neck, and she pulled at his dead weight just as she would have pulled at the dead weight of a three week-old corpse.
That was when she heard the noise from within the stove. It was a wordless sound of pure animal panic. A bird that had flown down the cold chimney and become trapped, perhaps, or a cat locked away by its owners during their delirium. Then the sound came again, and Chera, deciding that the thick leather of her gloves would be proof against either beaks or claws, went to open the stove door. There was a flurry of movement from inside, and the small creature shrieked as it was exposed. The thing extended two hands to ward her off, and Chera realised that it was not a thing at all.
They’ll gather like crows above a slaughterhouse, and squeeze every ounce of profit from our work. ” “That’s your choice,” Brock told him. ” Deaf Tsara shouted. ” 47 “I don’t know,” the domnu shrugged, “a few months, a few years. ” “In other words, we could be there forever,” Mihai added, ignoring his father and looking around the circle, “rotting like animals left to die in a trap, and prey for the peasant’s merchants and the beasts of the Black Mountains. No. ” Brock was surprised at the rumble of agreement, and fought down the impulse to go and box his son’s ears.
A Dance of Chaos (Shadowdance, Book 6) by David Dalglish