Read The Order War for Free Online

Justen,” called Altara as Justen followed Warin down the stone-paved walk that led to and across the High Road, the grand highway that connected both ends of the island nation.
    “Don’t let her fool you ,” Warin said, then paused and looked up the long slope. The highway was clear in the spring twilight, no wagons, no horses, just stone blocks still close-fitted after centuries of use. “She’ll be over practicing with us before long.”
    Justen suppressed a grin. Almost every day after work, he and Warin sparred while Altara made wise remarks before joining the dozen or so regulars working out with staffs or wands. And almost every day, Warin said that Altara would be following them to exercise. Was all life a long series of repeated words and actions? Shaking his head, Justentwirled the staff, then dropped it against the stone and caught it on the rebound.
    “Hard on the staff,” Warin commented.
    “But it’s fun. After all, it’s not as though I’ll ever have to use a staff for anything serious.” Justen paused before the open doors of the armory, glancing at the black stone that showed no apparent age for all of the centuries that had passed since Dorrin or one of the other original engineers had ordered and laid it—except that probably the great Dorrin hadn’t done much of the stonework himself. He’d doubtless been too busy building the famous Black Hammer .
    Warin continued into the armory, and Justen hurried his steps to catch up.
    “You never know.” Warin stepped onto the open expanse of the practice floor, setting his staff against the wall and beginning a limbering routine.
    “Know what?” asked Justen, following the older man’s example and swinging his arms to loosen the tightness in his shoulders.
    “When you might need that staff, young fellow.”
    In the far corner, a group of ships’ marines exercised, led by Firbek, a big blond giant with the build of a Feyn River farmer. Justen paused and checked his boot laces, then watched as the marines swarmed up the ropes hung from the high beams.
    He snorted, thinking to himself: It’s been years, maybe centuries, since we’ve had to board anyone’s ships in real force . Then he frowned, recalling his adventure on the Llyse , before chuckling as he realized how grumpy and serious his thoughts were. And what are you doing, Justen, old man? Waving around an oak toothpick that’s just as obsolete .
    He continued stretching, grunting as the exercises pulled at muscles tightened by his work at the engineering forge.
    “Already you’re showing how out of trim you are. You should be easy pickings,” gloated Warin before walking toward the empty northeast corner, farthest from the marines.
    Justen picked up his staff and followed. He wiped his hands dry, squared his feet and raised his battered staff, nearly a cubit shorter than the shimmering black wood lifted by Warin.
    “How you manage with that little twig, I don’t know.” The black staff whistled around.
    Justen parried, then slid his staff and countered.
    Warin stepped back, off balance, and Justen eased forward, feet balanced. For a time, the thrusts, blocks, and parries alternated.
    “Darkness…good…for a young fellow. Who…says it’s…useless…”
    “Need…the exercise…” Justen panted in return, barely managing a parry of Warin’s thrust, sliding under the older man’s guard and tapping his ribs.
    “Ooooo…that could have hurt.” Warin straightened and took several deep breaths.
    Justen bent forward and gasped for air. As he repositioned himself, his eyes flicked to the open armory door to see Altara enter, alone and carrying both a staff and the hilted wand used for blade practice.
    “Ready?” asked Warin.
    “All right.”
    Warin’s staff swept forward, and Justen danced backward, his eyes half on the other side of the armory.
    The blond marine had detached himself from his troops and walked over to Altara. “Altara?” Firbek bowed deeply. “Would you