Read The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals for Free Online

little about her plans for the brigand army.
    His friends still urged him to leave, but he would have none of it, despite the numerous arguments. The brigand camp was rotten; no amenities could make it any better, and they wanted to go, regardless of his assurances. Every day he told them they would soon depart, but the weeks still passed. Mikkel had trouble looking him in the eye and Billip had little to say.
    The woman was calling the shots, whether he admitted it or not. She made both his friends uncomfortable as they stayed busy when she was around. Venir had never met a woman like her, but they were not beguiled like him, despite her impressive looks. He considered himself a good judge of character, and it was against his normal cunning to take up so tight with a woman of any kind. He should have seen that she was not the company to keep, but he did not, he only saw what he wanted. He wanted her.
    Somehow the band of men managed to work through it all, despite the intrusive and unpleasant woman. Before long they were in it thicker than thieves, moving along trails and raiding merchant caravans that ran commerce south to north. The brigand army and its queen’s reputation had been spreading, and the merchants began bringing along more men-at-arms on their travels. It was not enough as the misfit army continued to grow. Still, the brigand army was forced to plan better, and the merchant trains became more difficult to sniff out.
    Jarla was a brilliant bandit. She planned her raids using resources and preparations unrivaled by the best war generals on Bish. Venir learned much from her and was impressed by her knowledge of the field. He had spent many years soldiering in Bish, but few soldiers were her equal. She would locate the caravans and exploit their weaknesses with uncanny precision. He could not work out how she did it. He asked many questions, but often he was cut short.
    She charged into every melee that came their way on her large dapple-grey steed named Nightmare. Nightmare was a lightly armored warhorse and a force unto herself. He watched the horse trample bodies under powerful hooves that crushed bones to dust. Jarla fought with both spiked battle axes on horseback as if on her own feet. The carnage she wrought was a spectacle to any observer, but to Venir it was an inspiration. Even he could not match Jarla’s body count in battle, but he was the only one to come close.
    She complemented his fighting skills and so his acceptance among her ranks grew. He was not comfortable with the bloodlust of the brigands, for it seemed unwarranted. Billip and Mikkel kept their distance from the fray; instead they relied on their wits and their range weapons. No one complained, as they were the best shots among the brigands. He knew they pulled back when they could, as well did he. It was a risk.
    Over the passing months the army had great success and had grown to over five hundred strong. Jarla’s leadership and battle skills allowed her to control the various races of her army well. She was challenged by one of her commanders, a powerful gnoll or noted repute. She cut him down in a fight to the death. Her victory was quick, her leadership unquestioned.
    Venir had the pleasure of watching her dress for battle. She had her own sequence for putting everything on and taking it off. He watched, eyes intent, as she put on her iron-toed boots, and a sleeveless white cotton shirt, followed by her bronze chainmail dress. The sight of the magnificent warrior woman never failed to capture him.
    She would grab a large, stitched up leather sack, kneel down, and pull out an iron-banded bracer for her left arm, followed by another for her right arm. She reached in with her left hand, pulling out the first spiked battle axe, and followed with the right. The axes drew his attention, as compelling as her. They did not stand out as extraordinary, but they were special in design, each about three feet in length. Their dark steel blades and