The Oathbreaker's Shadow **SAMPLE COMPLETE**

Part 2 - Chapter 1.2

The tree shook violently, sending a shower of sharp needles onto Raim’s head, and he grabbed hold of the trunk to stop himself from falling. He spun round to see a familiar set of mischievous dark eyes clamber up on the branch beside him. Khareh was wearing an ornate black tunic with a high collar, richly embroidered with gold silk dragons in mid-dance. It was probably worth more than most villagers’ entire possessions, but Khareh didn’t care if he ripped it climbing up trees. Khareh was the Prince of Darhan. He was allowed not only to own expensive things, but to ruin them as well. ‘I’ve been searching every tree in the camp to find you,’ he said.

‘It’s called a hiding place for a reason. Plus, there’s a good view from up here. Especially of that little show – what was that about?’

Khareh shrugged. ‘Can’t have a shadow hanging about today, can we? It would be bad luck. Come on, I’ve got something to show you. You’ve got a few more hours before your brother’s sacrifice, right?’

‘One hour,’ said Raim, unable to hide the massive grin on his face as Khareh referred to his brother’s wedding as a sacrifice. He tried to stay serious. ‘And I can’t be late. My grandfather will kill me.’

‘Oh, old Loni won’t mind. That’s plenty of time,’ said Khareh, with the small half-smile and glint in his eyes that meant he had no concern for Raim’s schedule.

There was no way Raim wouldn’t go with Khareh, however, and Khareh knew it.

With a shrug, Khareh leaped off the branch and Raim followed awkwardly, landing with a thump on the dusty ground. Even he wasn’t dressed for tree climbing today.

They were high up in the Northlands, in a tiny village where the plains of Darhan met the Amarapura mountain range. The only time any of the tribes came to the village was if one of their members was marrying into the Baril, the scholars of Darhan. To Raim and Khareh, being Baril was to live a life of interminable boredom. It was the only class that did not prepare in any way for warfare, despite danger lurking at almost all of Darhan’s borders – and sometimes within.

As the brother of the Baril entrant, Raim was not only forced to sit through the entire hours-long ceremony, but also to do so wearing the most elaborate (and most uncomfortable) formal clothes he owned. His indigo tunic was as stiff as unboiled rice and reached down to the top of his ankles. It closed across his body, fastening with three clasps at the neck – too close to his face in the sweltering heat – three on his shoulder and three more under his right armpit. A wide belt, dyed in the deep green of the Moloti tribe, wrapped around his waist. He wished he could wear his normal clothes, loose-fitting trousers and a waist-length tunic made from wool instead of the heavy, poor-quality silk. Unlike Khareh, though, Raim had to take care of his clothing. Any caked-in mud meant an hour of scrubbing for Raim later; every tear meant pricking his fingers with his awkward, fumbling sewing. Not his idea of a fun evening in the yurt.

Worst of all were the shoes. Instead of his normal well-worn, fur-lined, thick-soled boots, he was in delicate slippers with pointed toes that curled backward. On the tip of the curl was a ball that jingled when he walked. By the time they had clambered over a rocky ridge to reach the edge of the glade, the annoying golden bells were crammed deep into his tunic pocket.

They broke into a run, feeling the short mountain grass crunch under their heels. They passed by a herd of goats, their bleating urging them on. Then Khareh stopped. ‘Wait here,’ he said, as he ran on a bit further. He was standing over what looked like a stick beaten into the ground.

‘Ready?’ Khareh yelled. Then he appeared to pull something with all his might. ‘Get down, now!’

Raim fell to the ground and put his hands over his turban, just in time to feel the wind slice overhead. He flipped round and sat up, watching the object as it veered towards the goats, scattering them. It made a sharp U-turn in the air and came straight back at Raim.