Lord of the Libraries Read Online Free Page A

captain brought the battle-axe down and cleaved through an iron helm and the goblin head that wore it. The death screams of goblins mixed in with the dwarven war song.
    The battle lasted only minutes. The execution, for that was what the action truly was, only stopped when the defenders of Greydawn Moors ran out of goblinkin to kill.
    Breathing hard and bloodied, fire skating along his ribs from a spear wound, Varrowyn shook the blood from his battle-axe. Amid the carnage left of the goblinkin, bodies of a handful of dwarves, humans, and also elves lay.
    “Varrowyn,” broad-faced Kummel called. The warrior sat on his knees holding the hand of young Anell.
    Heart heavy with dread, Varrowyn joined them. The young dwarf’s parents had already lost one son to the goblinkin. Anell lay bleeding from a wound to the throat. Kummel was attempting to stanch the flow with a compress made of his own tunic, but experience told Varrowyn the effort was in vain.
    The young dwarven warrior was dying and there was naught any of them could do.
    Varrowyn took the young dwarf’s hand. “Ye fought well, Anell. Ye did. I saw ye, glimpsed ye from the corner of me eye, I did. Ye are ever’ inch a brawler.”
    A faint smile tugged at Anell’s bloody lips. His beard was scarce thick enough to mask his chin. “The dweller,” he gasped. “I would speak … with the dweller lad.”
    Varrowyn sent the order and Dockett was brought forward. Despite the horrors of the attack on Greydawn Moors last month, the dweller
hadn’t hardened to the ways of war. His eyes rounded in fear and filled with tears, and he stood on shaking legs.
    “Me,” Anell said to the dweller as he took hold of the other’s shirt. “I am Anell, son of Morag Thur, of the … the Unrelenting Hammer Clan. I died here tonight fightin’ … against the goblinkin to save the Library. As I swore to the Old Ones an’ my father … that I would. Make them … remember … me.” He swallowed. “Please. Do not let … them forget.”
    “I-I-I will,” Dockett promised. Tears leaked from his eyes and ran down his dirty cheeks. “The world will know you forever, Anell. I swear by the Old Ones that they will.”
    With a final exhalation, Anell passed. His sightless eyes rolled up and his lifeless body relaxed on the bloodied earth.
    Kummel cursed. Pain and rage cracked his broad face and tightened his voice. “He was just a young ’un, Varrowyn. It ain’t right. Wasn’t his time to die. I don’t want to tell his ma. Her heart’s already broken.”
    Varrowyn sat quietly. Kummel and Anell had been shield mates for years.
    “I am sorry for your loss,” the young dweller whispered.
    Uncoiling, Kummel put a big hand on the young dweller’s chest and shoved him away. Dockett rolled a half dozen times and sprawled. Hesitantly, obviously expecting further attack, he pushed himself up.
    The other survivors of the attack gathered around. All of them had lost someone they knew.
    “Don’t ye be apologizin’ to me!” Kummel roared. “An’ that promise ye made to Anell? That was worthless, was what it was!” He took a step toward the dweller.
    Fearing that Kummel was out of control in his grief, Varrowyn stepped forward and intercepted the dwarven warrior. “Stand down,” the dwarven captain ordered.
    Kummel stopped, but the thought flashed through his eyes that maybe he wouldn’t. “We’re dyin’ here, Varrowyn. Dyin’ one by one for these dwellers that don’t know how to fight for themselves an’ wouldn’t even if they did because they’re all cowards.”
    “This one left the safety of his da’s tavern,” Varrowyn said, “an’ is sure to get a thumpin’ when he gets back for sneakin’ along with us as he did.”
He spoke loud enough so that all could hear. “An’ he made his way through the dark forest at night.” He paused. “Do ye know why he did that?”
    No one answered.
    Varrowyn knew that only a few of his comrades felt as Kummel did. Most accepted