Lightnings Daughter by Mary Herbert (read me a book txt) 📕

The moment the travelers stepped out of the warehouse, they sensed something was different in the warm spring night. The city seemed to crackle with the tension of a coming storm.

A strange brightness from thousands of torches glowed in the market streets and guild houses. An angry murmur was heard in the distance---the blending of thousands of feet marching on stone, the shout of angry voices, and the clash of weapons. On the hil above the warehouses, horns blared from the barracks and the palace.

The company had to hurry to keep up with their guide. Although he was old enough to be Athlone's grandfather, the hillman was as wiry and agile as a mountain goat. He led them down into the dark maze of warehouses, wharves, and custom houses. Several times the travelers had to press back into the shadows as groups of shouting, angry people, brandishing knives, pikes, or homemade weapons, marched past.

Khan'di's uprising had begun.

Before long, however, the noise and activity were left behind. The hillman led his charges out of the harbor district and up into the hills behind the old city wall.

Gabria glanced up as they hurried through the darkness and was surprised to see the sky was clouding over. Lightning flickered far out over the sea. She hesitated. A strange feeling teased the edges of her senses, but whatever it was, it was too faint for her to recognize. Putting the feeling aside, she hurried after Athlone.

The hil man was leading Gabria and her companions up the southern end of the Redstone Hil s, a place where the steep slopes were weathered by harsh seas. Deep gul ies slashed down between the hills, and rock-strewn crags reared up over the stony vales. Not many people came up into the hil s, for the inhospitable slopes made traveling difficult. Only the ancient tribes lived in the rugged lands, raising their half-wild goats, unimpressed by the vast city that lay at their feet. And only the hil tribes knew the extensive honeycomb of caves and passages that riddled the heart of the hil s.

The night was completely dark by the time the party came to a narrow ravine about half a league behind the city wal . Clouds had total y obscured the moon and stars; the only illumination came from the distant lightning and from the torches and fires in the city below. The travelers turned to look back at Pra Desh and were surprised to see rivers of torchlight flowing up the streets toward the old city. The mobs were on their way to storm the gates.

Gabria knew the success of this part of Khan'di's plan depended on the Fon's army; if enough men mutinied, the gates could be seized and held open, and the citizen mob would spend their rage against the palace. It was too difficult to see what was happening around the barracks and wal s, but it seemed obvious from the noise and the blowing horns that there was a great commotion going on. Gabria could only pray that Khan'di's plot was proceeding as hoped before she fol owed her companions down into the night-dark ravine.

They stumbled along the rocky bottom for a time before the hil man came to a stop in front of a huge fallen boulder. The massive piece of granite was half-buried in the side of the ravine and camouflaged with brush and rock debris. Without a word, he began to pul the brush away to reveal a narrow, black hole behind the boulder. Quick as a squirrel, he darted in, leaving the others standing outside.

"Is this it?" Gabria asked suspiciously.

The old man poked his head out and waved angrily for them to follow him. One at a time, the warriors, Gabria, and Treader squeezed through the hole. Tam kept her hand glued to Sayyed's, but she followed without a complaint or a whimper into the pitch-black cave.

The party crowded together. The cave was barely high enough to al ow them to stand upright and so lightless they could not see the wal s, the floor, or each other's faces. No one dared to take a step.

Suddenly a tiny light flared in the back of the cave, where the hillman crouched over his flint and steel. To everyone's relief, he lit several rush torches and passed them on to the men, then he gestured again and vanished into the darkness.

"I think I'd rather be back in the warehouse," Bregan said, staring up at the low-hanging ceiling.

Athlone gripped the warrior's arm as he started after the old man. "So would I," he said. "So would I."

In single file, with Athlone in front and Bregan bringing up the rear, the party followed its silent guide down into the depths of the earth.

*****

Not far away, in a small, dark room beneath the palace, the Fon stood with her back against a wall, watching Branth through narrowed eyes. She was not certain he was ready to attempt the spell again.

She would have preferred to wait a few more days to summon the gorthling and launch her army at Portane, but only a short time ago she had received word that a mob had risen in the streets and was marching toward the palace. The army, the soldiers she herself had levied, had betrayed her and opened the city gates to the rabble.

She gritted her teeth, and a snarl of hatred twisted her thin mouth. Oh, heads will roll for this treason! The streets wil run with the blood of traitors, she swore to herself. Already the ' mob and the rebellious factions of the army were fighting the guards still loyal to her. The battle raged in the streets near the palace, too close for complacency.

The Fon slammed her palm against the wall. It was that damned Khan'di Kadoa's doing. She could sense his hand in this treachery. She should have disposed of that conniving