Read Paladin's Prize (Age of Heroes, Book 1) for Free Online

the necklace of the sister order to the Sons of Might, the Daughters of the Rose. This had immediately told him that Ilios had sent her, and from that instant, he knew that he could trust her.
    She was still wearing it now.
    For a long moment, he could only stare in fascinated wonder at her beauty, though, for his part, he was still covered in dried blood and mud like a corpse that had fought its way out of the grave. If she woke now and found this reanimated, undead creature gawking at her, she’d probably scream, he thought. But, then… No. Not this one , he decided with a faint smile. She had proved as brave as she was beautiful.
    He recalled her cool-nerved courage when she had come to his side in the horror of that night. Most of all, though, he remembered her kindness. Strange… He didn’t even know her name, yet for reasons that he could not explain, he felt deeply and mysteriously bonded to this stranger. The sight of her, so innocent and defenseless in her slumber, moved him.
    Thaydor dragged his stare away from her, startled by the desire stirring in his veins, considering what he had just been through. Glancing at his armor by the wall and seeing the dents and scars and bloodstains all over it, he went very still. Verily, it seemed he had done nothing but fight for so long, until the metal death suit had become him.
    But this fair stranger had freed him from it. He looked at her again in deepening speculation.
    Keenly aware of her beauty, he could not deny the hunger to touch her and affirm the life and strength that still flowed in his veins. He shook his head. Alluring as she was, he usually had expert control over such impulses, much to the annoyance of the many temptresses who crossed his path.
    True, he tended to get a little…frustrated after a battle, yearning for release, but he had never admitted that weakness to anyone. While other knights celebrated victory with a visit to the fleshpots of the city, he preferred to tame his libido with prayer and fasting, save it like a fuel for the next inevitable battle. This girl, though…
    He drew his hand back, fighting the urge to caress her cheek.
    Perhaps it was understandable after his ordeal that he should wake up needy and confused. This time, he had nearly died, and today he felt all strange and…new.
    Hmm. He was eager to learn her name, talk to her, and give her his thanks, but one thing was certain. No man could make a very good impression on a female in such a condition. His lips twisted in amusement. Alive though he was, the smell of death still clung to him. And sweat, and grime, and Urmugoth filth.
    In short, the famous hero stank.
    Rising to his feet, he winked at the wee silver fairy as he turned away, ready to rejoin the living.
    The tiny creature watched his every move, wide-eyed. Stomach grumbling, Thaydor helped himself to the loaf of bread, hunk of cheese, and pitcher of cider that the girl had obviously left for him there on the table.
    Piling it all into his arms, he stepped out into the dappled sunshine and paused to take in his surroundings. The picturesque woods. The funny little cupola-topped building behind him. The burgeoning garden in the bright glade.
    I could still believe this is Elysium , he thought with a mystified smile. Then he took a large bite of the bread and went on his way, chewing as he headed down the rock-hewn steps to go and bathe in the waterfall.

 

    Chapter 3
    Temptation
     
     
    A short while later, Wrynne awoke and found the bed across from her empty. She lifted her head from the pillow with a small intake of breath and glanced around the room.
    Thaydor was gone.
    She scrambled to climb—and nearly fell—out of her hanging cocoon chair, clumsy with nerves to find that the time had already come to meet her patient, who was obviously awake. She hadn’t expected him to rejoin the world so soon! At least not for another day, but it seemed she hadn’t counted on her patient’s nigh superhuman strength. Her