Read Stones of Power 01 - Ghost King for Free Online Page A

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    Culain smiled. 'Well, boy, you may have no strength in your arms but your spirit is not lacking, thank the Source. Now chop the logs and we'll discuss your departure over breakfast.'
    Thuro felt he had won a small victory, but he was not sure what the prize might be or whether the win was worth a lick of salt. He left the cabin and located the wood-store some eighty feet away, near a stand of trees.
    He found the axe embedded in a log and wrestled it clear. Then he lifted the log to stand upon a thick ring of pine and hefted the axe over his head. His first swing saw the axe-head miss the log, burying itself in the snow-covered ground. He wrenched it clear, steadied his feet and tried once more. This time the head glanced from the log, tearing the axe from Thuro's slender fingers; he retrieved it. On the third swing the axe hit into the log, stopping half-way through and trapping the head. After several minutes he worked it loose, then he stood and thought about the action necessary to complete the task. He planted his feet wider apart, with his right leg slightly ahead, swung the axe - and split the log. He continued work for some time, until his breathing became ragged, and his face was white with exhaustion. He counted the logs. Eleven . . . and Culain had asked for twenty! More slowly now, he continued the chore. His hands hurt him and he put down the axe to check the skin; four large blisters decorated his palm. He glanced towards the cabin but there was no sign of Culain. Once more he counted the logs: eighteen. He took the axe in his injured hand and set to work until twenty had been split, leaving forty solid chunks.
    Returning to the cabin he found Culain sitting in the wide leather chair, his feet raised on a small table. The warrior looked up as he entered.
    'I thought you'd fallen asleep out there, prince.'
    'I did not fall asleep, and I dislike the tone in your voice when you use my title - you make it sound like a dog's name. My name is Thuro; if you are uncomfortable around royalty, you may use that.'
    'May I indeed' What a singular honour! Where is the wood?'
    'It is all chopped.'
    'But it needs to be in here to be of any use, boy.'
    Swallowing his anger, Thuro returned to the wood-store and hefted three chunks which he carried with ease back to the cabin, up the three steps and in to the hearth. He repeated this maneouvre eight times, before his arms burned like fire and his feet dragged in the snow. Culain merely sat, offering no assistance. Twice more Thuro stumbled back bearing wood, then he staggered and fell to the cabin floor. Culain leaned from his chair and tapped the boy on the back.
    'Seven more chunks, I think, young Thuro?'
    The prince rolled to his knees, anger giving him strength as he staggered out into the snow and this time hefted four pieces which he carried slowly back. His right hand was hot and sticky and as he dumped the wood in the hearth he noticed blood was leaking from the torn blisters. He returned to the wood-store and with a supreme effort carried the last of the chunks back to the cabin.
    'Never leave an axe naked to the air,' said Culain. 'Always embed it in wood; it protects the edge.'
    Thuro nodded, but lacked the strength for a retort. Once more in the open, he took the axe and plunged the head into a log.
    'Anything else?' he called. 'Or is it part of the game that I return first?'
    "Come and eat,' called Culain.
    The two broke fast with cold meat and cheese, and Thuro wolfed his small portion swiftly. This was followed by a dark ale, so bitter that the prince choked. Culain said nothing, but Thuro finished the foul brew to pre-empt any sneer. 'How do you feel?' asked Culain.
    'I am fine.'
    'Would you like me to tend to your hand?' Thuro was about to refuse when he saw that this was what the other man expected. He recalled the advice of Ptolemy, as reported by Plutarch: 'As long as you react, your enemy holds your destiny in the palm of his hand. When you force him