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

the caves two nights ago, when she had sensed that great terror, she felt Branth had done something horrible. But what? A fearful, nagging doubt pricked her mind, and she remembered the look of bestial cruelty on his face in the throne room. The exiled chief was gone from Pra Desh, but he stil had the Book of Matrah and was still very dangerous.

Gabria swal owed her disappointment. She rose and said to Athlone, "My lord, I have to go after him."

For a moment, the Khulinin chief did not answer. He had already guessed how she would choose.

Although he was proud of her determination and courage, a small cloud of foreboding darkened his thoughts. The feeling of terror he, too, had sensed in the cave had lodged in his mind, and he was badly frightened for Gabria. Worse, he knew that the only way he could help her against Branth was to learn sorcery himself.

To Athlone's surprise, the idea did not unsettle him. When he had watched Gabria standing alone, smothering the fire and protecting Pra Desh, he had realized that he had made a mistake. Athlone had known for a year that he had the talent to wield magic, a talent that could be used for great good, and he had ignored it.

The chieftain stood and bowed slightly to their host. "Thank you for your earlier invitation, but we will be leaving as soon as possible."

Khan'di's shrewd glance went from the chief to the woman as he said, "I did not expect anything less."

*****

They buried Bregan that afternoon in the hills above the City. The travelers and the new Fon escorted the warrior's body up the steep trail to a high peak that overlooked the grasslands far away in the purple haze.

They built a bier of logs and arrayed the warrior's body in his mail shirt, his golden clan cloak, and his finest clothes. The hearthguard laid his weapons by his side; Lord Athlone put a gold armband on his forearm as a symbol of Bregan's restored honor, and Gabria and Tam brought the bag of salt, the loaf of bread, and the water bag that the warrior would need for his journey to the realm of the dead.

They doused the bier with oil and set it ablaze. As the flames climbed toward the sun, Gabria sang the women's prayers for the dead. It took several hours for the fire to die to embers. Only then did they cover the ashes with a high mound of dirt and mark the grave with a spear and helmet as befitting an honored clan warrior.

It was almost dark when the party rode back down through the hil s, leading Bregan's horse.

Halfway to the city, they paused while Gabria slipped off her horse and walked ahead a few paces into the twilight. She put her fingers to her lips to whistle a piercing call, but Tam's shrill call sounded before Gabria had drawn a breath.

The little girl's whistle was enough. Three Hunnuli cantered out of the darkness. They gathered around Gabria, nickering their pleasure, then Eurus went to greet Athlone and the colt trotted to Tam.

"It is safe to come to the city," Gabria told Nara. "Khan'di has granted us safe passage." She clambered up onto the mare's back and threw her arms around her neck. "I missed you," she murmured.

And I you, Nara replied. But it's not over, is it?

"No," Gabria answered sadly. "Not yet."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two days later the travelers rode with Khan'di and an escort through Pra Desh to the outskirts of the city. They passed the guardpost at the city limits just after daybreak and stopped in front of an inn to make a final check of their baggage and to bid farewell to Khan'di.

Everyone was rested and ready to go. The packhorses were fully laden, and all of the gear had been retrieved, cleaned, and repaired.

When Piers dismounted to tighten his saddle girth, Khan'di approached him.

The new Fon looked ill-at-ease, but he came straight to the point. "I should have asked you this before, Piers. Now is my last chance. I would like you to stay in Pra Desh. I need a healer in the palace.

Please come back,”

Gabria and Athlone, overhearing the Fon, looked at one another and held their breath.

The healer did not answer immediately. He was startled by Khan'di's offer and, for just a moment, he was tempted. He had spent his three days in Pra Desh in the houses of healing, help.ing with the wounded from the fighting and the injured survivors from the fire. In that time he realized he missed the big city and all it had to offer. He had much to learn of the new medical advances the Pra Deshian healers had made in the past eleven years.

Then he thought of the clan that had become his family, of the lovely val ey where his own tent overlooked a shining river, and of the sorceress who had helped fill the aching loss left in his heart by his daughter's death. He settled his clan cloak over his shoulders and shook his head. "I can't."

Khan'di gripped his arm. "Piers, I know you're angry with me, but I did not know what the old Fon's wife was planning that night. Please believe me! I found out later that the woman had given me something to make me il in order to get you out of the way. By the time I learned of this, you were already gone from the city. I'm sorry!"

Piers clasped his old friend's hand in his own. For eleven years he had been plagued by uncertainties about Khan'di's deliberate involvement with the old Fon's murder. Hearing the truth at last healed a few more of his lingering scars. "It's not that,” he said, his thin mouth smiling. "I have finally put my daughter to rest. It's just that I have made a new home with the Khulinin.