The Pale Princess

The Pale Princess THE STORYWEAVER SAGA: BOOK 1 D.K. HOLMBERG Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Author’s Note Series by D.K. Holmberg Chapter 1 LAN Thunder rumbled through a cloudless sky. Lan Varison glanced up, expecting to see storm clouds rolling in, as they often did at this time of year, but only the bright sun sat overhead. “That’s not thunder, you dolt.” Sophie elbowed him in the side, drawing his attention back to her. Though she was younger, her elbow found its way to his ribs, and her deep blue eyes met his almost level. Then she swiveled back to the road, sending her brown hair swinging. A hint of a smile was on her lips. “What is it, then?” She elbowed him again. “It’s like you’ve never heard horses before.” Lan stared along the road, looking for signs of horses, but saw nothing. Is she teasing me again? Sophie loved to joke, but he often didn’t understand her jokes. The way her cheek pulled back, twisting the small scar at the corner of her mouth, made it seem unlikely. “What horses sound like that?” Lan asked. She twisted her bright orange belt and lifted the end of the fabric to her mouth to chew on it. “Those do,” she whispered. He squinted. A trail of dust rose along the road, rising into the sky like a cloud. It was faint, barely more than a haze, but she had still seen it. “That’s from horses?” he asked. “And a lot of them, from the sound.” The thundering grew louder, to where Lan could feel it within him. It stirred the dust around him, turning it into something almost alive. Another moment passed, and he noted light glinting off metal. Lan’s breath caught. Armor. Something caught his eye even more. A trail of black ran through the armor of the nearest rider. Even without seeing the pattern, he recognized it. This close to the border, everyone in Narith would recognize it by reputation, almost as much as Lan and Sophie would recognize it from the stories Nana told them. “That would be the Taihg. What are they doing here?” Lan had never seen the elite soldiers of Reyash, and he had never expected to see them this close to their village. Sophie shot him an annoyed look. “The Taihg wouldn’t have any reason to come through here. The border is leagues away.” The soldiers approached quickly, so Lan grabbed Sophie and pulled her away from the road. She resisted—she always resisted when he tried to tell her what she should do—but he maintained a firm grip. They stood off to the side as the soldiers passed. Each soldier sat stiffly in his saddle, sunlight gleaming off the metal. Dark etchings along their chest plates created a familiar pattern that drew his eye, and it was even clearer that they were the Taihg. One of the soldiers glanced over as he passed, but he quickly dismissed them and turned his attention back to the road, heading toward the village. “Why would they be riding toward Halith?” Sophie whispered. “They probably aren’t.” Lan watched the riders. They shouldn’t even be here, but then, Narith was a small country with little for defense other than the natural protection formed by the difficult terrain of its borders. There was something impressive about the way they rode—a ferocity. Some claimed they were gifted with magic, while others claimed the swords they used were enchanted. All recognized the Taihg were practically unstoppable. Sophie rounded on Lan, placing her hands on her hips in a mimicry of their grandmother. Lan didn’t fear Sophie nearly as much as he did his grandmother. She was almost as intimidating as the Taihg. “There’s only our village along the road, Lannerdon. Where else would they be traveling?” He glared at her. “The village is along the road, but there are many other places beyond it that the Taihg would more likely visit.” “I bet they’re going to Halith.” She started back along the road, forcing Lan to hurry after her to keep up. With her long strides, she made quick progress. “You bet?” He arched a brow. “It sounds like you’ve been spending too much time with Lucan. I’m sure Nana would be thrilled to hear about—” He broke off as she elbowed him again, somehow managing to find a soft spot between his ribs. “If you tell her anything, I might just have to talk to her about the way you sneak off into the forest and maim that poor tree.” “You wouldn’t!” She shrugged. “Don’t think you can keep your secrets hidden, Lannerdon,” she said, making a point of emphasizing his name even more this time. “I know where you keep that sword hidden, sneaking off with it each night. Where would you get a sword, anyway?” Lan flushed. “I found it buried in Papa’s shed.” She snorted. “Papa wouldn’t have a sword. He’s a farmer. Can you imagine Papa attempting to wield a sword?” Lan shrugged. “There was a time early in the war when everyone had to fight, even farmers. They were called up to protect Narith on the chance that war spilled over its border.” Thankfully, it hadn’t. “Maybe it is from then. That was—” “A while ago. I know the stories as well as you.” She looked toward