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

Khan'di searched the healer's face, judging the sincerity of his words, then he nodded. "A few years ago I would have called you a fool to leave Pra Desh for the barbarian outlands." He shot a glance at Gabria and Athlone mounted on their Hunnuli. "Now I know better. Long life, my friend. Come visit when you can."

The nobleman stood back as the healer mounted. The clan horses shifted restlessly, pawing and sidestepping with excitement. They knew it was time to go.

Khan'di strode over to Gabria. He laced his hands behind his back and looked up at the woman with fondness. "I promised you a reward. Are you sure you won't take it?"

"We have no need of it. Your generous supplies are enough." She gestured to the hil s beyond the city. "Just watch over Bregan's mound, wil you?"

"With pleasure, and thank you, Sorceress. May Elaja go with you."

The woman nodded sadly. In spite of her earlier reservations, she had come to know and like this man in the two months they had traveled together. She would miss him. "And with you, Fon Kadoa."

Khan'di went to stand with his escort. "Don't forget,” he called. "Take the north fork two leagues from here. My scouts said Branth is following the river,”

Athlone raised his fist in salute to the Fon, then he waved his arm to his own party. Eurus half-reared and leaped forward. His huge hooves pounded the paving stones. Nara and the other horses fel in behind, fol owing the stal ion down the caravan road. Khan'di raised his hand in farewell and watched until the horses disappeared.

*****

From the shadows of a deep copse of trees, the gorthling watched the farm through Branth's eyes, his anticipation growing with each passing moment. It was one of the large communal farms that were common throughout the Five Kingdoms.

Early morning sunlight washed the three white-walled cottages and their outbuildings in a pale golden light. Smoke rose from the chimneys, and chickens clucked around the yard.

As far as the gorthling could see, all of the men had gone to the fields, leaving four women, a girl, and several children in the houses. He licked his lips. For five days now he had avoided human contact while he learned the uses of his new body and studied the basic spells in the Book of Matrah. His ruined hand still bothered him, but it was healing well. Now he was ready to try out his new skills.

The door opened in one of the cottages, and a slender young woman walked out, carrying a bucket.

The gorthling felt the bloodlust stir his thoughts and his body. He avidly watched the woman carry her bucket to the well and lower it down to fill it. The stirring grew to an urgent desire, and he stepped out of the shadows. His eyes began to glow with a vicious red gleam as he slid his dagger into his sleeve and began to walk toward the farm.

* * * * *

Gabria watched the plumes of smoke rise from the smoldering ruins of the farmhouse and tried not to look at the scorched bodies lying in a row under the apple tree. She was horribly shaken by this destruction. This was the third communal farm along the river that she and her companions had found in this state. The first farm in Calah had been appal ing. There had been four men and a boy murdered by what Gabria immediately recognized was the Trymian Force. The horribly mutilated body of a woman was dumped in a wagon, and neighbors located the remains of the rest of the three families in the burned and gutted cottages. Even the outbuildings had been put to the torch.

Since that afternoon six days ago, the travelers had tracked Branth out of Calah and through neighboring Portane from one destroyed farm to another. They had ridden as fast as possible, but Branth stayed tantalizingly out of reach. Secen, one of the best trackers in the Khulinin, estimated the exile was only a day in front of them. However, Branth stole a horse whenever he needed a fresh one, and he never stopped long enough for anyone to catch up with him.

Gabria leaned forward to rest her arms on Nara's mane and let her head drop. She was tired and felt wretched. She could hear Athlone nearby, talking to the farmers who had found the smoking ruin earlier that morning. Piers and Tam were waiting by the road, while Sayyed, Treader, and the warriors searched the surrounding fields for some sign of Branth.

The woman let her eyes wander toward the charred cottage. It looked so hideously incongruous against the backdrop of the flowering orchard and the warm, bright spring day.

Athlone returned to her side. "It's the same as the first two," he said grimly. "No one saw anything.

They think it happened late last night, but they don't know how or why. There is sign of only one man, and no one can believe only one man could do al this." The chief began to pace angrily between the two Hunnuli. "That's what I don't understand. I can believe Branth would steal a horse, food, or gold, and he would kill a man or two who stood in his way. He is a vindictive, arrogant brute, but he never did anything violent that did not serve his own ambitions." Athlone gestured at the ruins. "This kind of cruel, senseless destruction is not like him."

Gabria agreed. "Something happened to him in Pra Desh," she said. "Something changed him,”

"Any ideas?"

"I wish I knew."

Athlone turned on his heel and mounted Eurus. "We'd better find him before he burns every farm in Portane,”

Just then they heard a shout, and Secen came running toward them from the fields north of the burned barn. "Lord Athlone," he yel ed, "we found his trail.”

"Still heading for Rivenforge?"

"No, he's turned west. He's going toward the river."

"Sacred gods,"