The Deian War: Conquest Read Online Free Page A

but it seemed as though he was leagues ahead of them. Nothing could shake his admiration and respect for either Gaia or Calla and their physical prowess, but there was a vanity in him that whispered to his ego that he was superior. He was the First Apostle after all, so was it any surprise that he was the deadliest, the he was the best of them all?
       He quickly cast those thoughts aside as he caught a whiff of something in the forest ahead. It didn’t smell right, like it belonged in the forest. He had experienced that sensation too many times not to be curious and without conscious effort he was soon walking ahead into the trees.
       Behind him Sabre, who had kept a careful distance behind him called out, wishing to know where he was heading. Lupus gave no reply, but the way he fingered the hilt of the sword strapped to his back worried the Commander. As the Lion faded from sight into the gloom, the legionnaire felt a shiver run up his spine. He couldn’t explain the Lion’s actions; the battle had been won, the enemy exterminated and yet his lord’s behaviour was making him nervous to the point of battle-readiness.
       Knowing he couldn’t stop the Apostle if he tried, Sabre ran to find the one person he knew who could help, the one woman he had grown to trust above all the rest; the Whitewolf.
     
    CALLA COULD SMELL the Commander’s approach before she could see him. Though his run caused the wet mud to stain his fatigues and mask his odour, the effect was only minute to her. She could tell that Gaia, who stood nearby trying to nurse the burnt husk of a tree back to life, was a little late in noticing him. Either Calla’s sense of smell truly was highly attuned as a result of her Apostle form, or her sister was simply more worried about the state of nature around them than the sentient people in the area.
       Calla turned in time to show Sabre a warm, inviting expression. Resplendent in her shining white armour, every feature of it spotless in defiance of the rain and sodden ground, she looked as striking as always. Lupus had often remarked to her that she was too elegant and beautiful to be in a war zone, but she could never believe him. Of course, he would blame himself for not being able to persuade her of that truth and there was little she could say to relieve him of that guilt. A strange burden, but one of many that he s eemed to carry on his shoulders alone.
       Sabre approached the cluster of trees they were at, the same that the flanking assault had been sprung from just an hour ago. Calla smiled at him, beckoning him forward. When he bowed in deference to her only, for he could tell that Gaia’s attention was elsewhere, she bid him to relinquish his urgent news.
       “My Grace, the Lion…” Sabre started to say solemnly, though there was more protective care than anxious concern in his voice.
       “Speak plainly, Commander” Calla replied, knowing she was about to hear something that would disconcert her as well. She had served with Lupus, Gaia and the legions under their collective control for the last two years. In that time she had gotten to know all of the legionary Commanders. Sabre was not one to exacerbate the reality that he saw.
       He saluted swiftly and spoke. “My Lord Apostle has ventured into the dark forest by the mountains. He would not hear my calls, or heed my concerns.”
      “Your concerns ?” Gaia suddenly asked. Calla looked at her over her shoulder, but her sister was still paying most of her attention to the tree she was beginning to successfully restore. “What are those?”
       The neutral tone of her voice would have unsettled most legionnaires, as it certainly had done to Sabre in the first months of the battles following Pheia, but he was used to it by now. It was not that the Apostle was cold-hearted, b ut she knew the balance of life and was slow to fall prey to any emotion without knowing some context.
       “There’s something hiding in the