Series: The Rusted Blade
- Swordmaiden
- Paladin
- Rust, Blood, and Flame
- Light, Faith, and Sacrament
- Feeding the Flame
- The Fire Consuming
- An Embrace Eternal
- Dancing with Death
- A Chosen Tool
- Silence after the Storm
- A True Beginning
- Distant Whispers
- In Presence Exalted
- Servants of Fire
- Of the Dark, Of the Light
- A Warm Glow
- An Introduction and a Challenge
- Flames of the Fire
- Blazing Sparks
- Burning Coals
- Rebirth by Flame
- Aspects of Divinity
- Burden’s Release
- Cold Fire – and Hot Fury
- Resolve and Passion
- Grim Purpose
- That Which Is Given
- Grim Focus
- Weight and Depth
- Grim Satisfaction
- Slaughter and Sacrifice
- Grim Determination
- Duty and Death
- Grim Destruction
- Grim Fury
“Who be you,” Malika whispered once more, her head leaning still against the stranger’s chest. “Orthael you may be. Paladin you may be. But you be not like the others who would have come before, the others who would have seen me yet not seen me. They be complacent and indifferent.” Finally she looked up, looked him in the eye. “You see me,” she said with a kind of awe in her voice.
And see her he did. He took a long, quiet moment to look her over. She was spattered with blood and gore, but he was amazed to see that not a single drop of it was hers. Whoever this girl was, she was a master swordsman – and so young! But there was no doubt that she was the reason he had been drawn here.
“I am Orthael,” he said again, “servant of the All-Consuming Fire, and I have come to lend you aid, if you would have it, my child.” He saw her features tighten at the word ‘child,’ and he winced inwardly. No, he thought. This one is no child.
Malika took two deep breaths, then said, “I accept your aid, holy man.”
