Forces Collide, Jamie Wilson [best e reader for android txt] 📗

not want Drannor prying while I fought. My gift studied the fight to come and I knew exactly how we'd proceed, and cease.  Thanks to my using my gift to its full capacity, which was seeing my father's attacks before they came and how I attacked back, I knew I would win.

Then we started, and my father initiated the fight as I'd foreseen, slashing at my ribs. Quick as lightning, I blocked him and stopped Sylleth in its tracks. Then I slashed at his legs. He made to block me and I promptly altered my attack so that it aimed for his ribs.

We persistently fought like this for another eight minutes. Then it all came to an end, neither of us were scathed. My sword, still the lent one, rested lightly on my own father's collarbone. He froze and I leisurely lowered the sword away from him.

"I cannot believe you've beaten me. I've known swordplay for over two centuries, and you only have for a number of weeks. This is the first time in a long time since I've been crushed, in such an elegant manner," my father declared.

I hugged my father, once he'd put his sword away. "I've been training myself to use magic in my free time father."

My father looked at me thoughtfully and then chuckled, "You are finished training then. There is no more for me to teach you."

So I decided to spend the rest of the day with Drannor. He was eager to have a good time; I'd have a bit more spare time now that I was over and done with training.

We also spent time with Sam and Collin. Tiatha had taken a massive fancy to Gemma, and often asked to look after her. After considering if Gemma liked Tiatha, I'd approved Tiatha to look after Gemma for the rest of her upbringing. I knew Gemma would be safe with Tiatha, I saw her often enough.

All I really wanted was to be alone with Drannor. Handsome Drannor, who oft had girls chasing him. My life had returned back to its old, pre-human years self. The days spent in Adurna were only a bunch of indistinct memories now.

I was truly home. And it was heaven in the city for me at least. Always if I was not with Drannor, when I ventured out of the city, an armed guard came with me, for my own protection.


Chapter 7

One day, I'd gone for a ride on one of our finely bred horses. My guard had left me earlier, at my request. I'd wanted time unaccompanied to think, and plan. I was now very much by myself, and on the way home.

It was on the verge of twilight, where had the time disappeared to? I admonished myself for staying out so late into the afternoon, outside of Anthatal's shielding fortifications.

It was hushed in the bush, which was quite typical of this time of day. Most of the animals were back in their dens, with their children. I was usually safe in the city at this time. The only sound was my horses hooves as they struck the earth.

I felt my horse leap over something without warning. The unanticipated jump unseated me, and I clung to his mane as he soared through the air. Then he was striding away from the fallen log and I regained my seat which I had so momentarily lost.

The darkness in the surrounding woods slowly increased. As the shadows lengthened, I said, "Anga rah! Anga!”

To help him increase the span of his stride, I bent down low over his hot neck. With one hand I held my sword still so it did not repeatedly whack him on the sides or rump.

I'm not quite home Gaelira,' I said. 'See you in half an hour.'

'I'm watching from the walls. I know you'll be safe,' Gaelira said, a little austerely. I could tell she was worried about my location, but I understood that.

My horse stopped as we reached a divide in the trail. Two different paths now split off in front of us. I eyed both speculatively. With assurance a split second later, I told my fearless charger to go along the left one. I knew it was the way home, even though under no circumstances had I been out of the city at this time, in particular alone.

All did seem well, though I knew it was taking longer to get home than normal. Quickly I searched the bush around us for any menace lurking in advance with both mind and eye. I saw naught with my gift which was unsettling.

"Rekka!" screeched a male voice. Die.

With a loud shriek, my horse tumbled to the ground. I leapt from him as he did, and landed like a cat on the balls of my feet gracefully. My eyes raked the surrounding bush for the speaker, whose voice turned my blood to ice.

Then twenty orc's ran towards me, weapons raised. My head spun around, sizing the ugly enemies up. All of them seemed very young, but this did not make me fear them, or care about them. They were the elves mortal enemies. They would depart this life by my sword or they had to slay me. Very speedily they spread out, blocking all my likely escape routes.

They did not attack, but watched me rather warily. One stepped forwards from his -was it a male or not? It was hard to tell- companions and said in a curt voice, "Our master wishes to see you."

His tone of voice is not the one, I thought. How did they get into my woods? Only an elf can-

The orc snarled, pounded his fists together and said, "We do not linger good-naturedly, elf!"

"Oh I know that. Enemies we are and for good reason. You do not care for me, nor I you!"

My words were not meant to be careless; they simply were a forewarning I knew of their kind. I studied the leader critically. His face was heavily scarred, and one of his eyes was missing. One ear was squashed too, and his teeth were filed to points. Quite ugly, if you ask me.

"I will not go with you to your leader." Remembering one insult I'd learnt for a situation like this, I hissed, "llye ena fin divana ar' Marcos!" I knew he knew what it meant. You are the servants of Marcos!

The orc bared his teeth furiously at my infuriating insult. Then he attacked me savagely. To my incredulity, I did not see that approaching with my gift; I did not seem to be able to see them with it. Quickly I dodged the attack and drew my sword. I soon had him lifeless at my feet. Tauntingly I looked at his companions, daring them with my eyes.

They came at me in pairs, hoping to wear me out. Some of them I slew with magic, others with my blade. The spells I used to kill them were simple, they did not require much strength.

For a small number of seconds, my eyes rested on the marvelous lifeless horse that had ever so enthusiastically carried me. Then a stick snapped behind me and I spun around, sword still in my hand. A tall man watched me, with a naked rapier in hand.

Ah so this is the man to blame for slaughtering my horse, I realized, as the man stepped forward into the vanishing final light of the sun. But he's human, I thought, quite horror-struck. And he's only young. My eyes ran up and down his body.

Then the man struck at me with his blade. I snarled and dodged nimbly. In a shower of sparks my blade met his, as we circled, stabbing at and blocking each other. It started to become frustrating when I could not touch him. How can he block me? Elves are so much faster than humans, I thought to myself, attacking again.

My gift proved to be of little help, he kept changing his attack at the last moment. Eventually I began to tire and dreaded the fact he would possibly kill me. Still I struggled to fend off his attacks.

I canno t continue like this, I realised. Continually fighting mans attacks off, I fixed a picture of my father in my mind. I had to implement a little spell he'd taught me for occasions such as this. Then I reached into my pocket and raised a swan feather up above my head.

"Taragrifae," I hissed.

As my strength was sapped by the spell, the man hissed a spell of his own. I tumbled to the ground, as his spell pushed me. I had neither the time nor the strength to shield myself from him. The man's face was drawn into a feral snarl.

"Likamaei," the cold voice said.

My ankles instantaneously snapped together and refused to part. My wrists were in the same predicament.

'Gaelira help me,' I called frantically.

'I am already approaching,' was her counter. She sent me an image of her soaring above the foliage.

Then my left over strength ebbed away and the last thing I saw was the man glowering down at me. Then all went black.


Chapter 8

When I finally came to, I felt very uncomfortable all over. Then I tried to sit up. It would take a great effort to do so I gave up. Rather maddening for me, I did not like the fact I'd lost command of my own body. Something was holding me like this, but I could neither see nor feel anything impairing my body. At last I managed to raise my head up, but that was all.

Swiftly I looked down the length of my body. There was zilch visible binding me in place. I saw that I lay on a cold, hard marble table. It also came to my awareness that the worn leather curved sheath on my side was empty.

Where am I? I wondered.

It was a rather gloomy room and the only light that came in was from a single beam of moonlight that fell on my face. It came from a tiny barred skylight that was set high in the wall. From where I was, I could not see out of the window.

Then a bitter, extraordinarily feminine voice that rang crystal clear like an elf's said, "Langmar."

There was a noisy clank, and I heard a door swing open somewhere nearby. Then a tall woman came into sight as I looked timidly towards the sound.

"Hello young elf," the woman greeted me unkindly. Yes it was her that the voice came from, I recognised it.

I simply looked at her dismally. My eyes took in her exterior, tall, slender, mud brown hair. The colour was very unusual to me. Her eyes were blood red, which was truly terrifying for me to see.

"Wh... where am I?" I asked almost mutely. I was certainly panicky now.

"In King Marcos'-" I heard the way she said the name with respect, "- country. This little cell is in Ciarbera."

How in Nuban did I get here? I wondered. Then my mind replayed what had happened only hours, maybe days ago. I made a face in horror. "Be glad I was not the one who captured you. I simply sent that man after you," the woman said. Then she spun on her heel and with obvious grace floated from the room.

"Langwick,"