In The Beginning, Gail Daley [red white royal blue .TXT] 📗

reported the village to the Proctors, and they raided us. Most of our parents were slain fighting them so we children could escape."

Sylvie had lain back with her eyes closed, exhausted. "Where is the child's father?"

"Dead, I hope," he said viciously.

At Catrin's raised eyebrows, he explained. "She told me she didn't know who the father was. It could have been any one of the five men who raped her. After the raid, I followed the Proctors back to the city, hoping to free some of my friends. I couldn't of course; the Proctor compound is too well warded for an ignorant boy to sneak in. I stayed in the city, determined to learn how though. It isn't easy for a young Magi child to hide and still survive in Khaso City. To stay alive and free, I became a thief, an assassin for hire and eventually, one of the Wild Magi. I did what I needed to survive until I could find a way to sneak into the Proctor's compound. It was several years before I could find out how to do it."

Catrin eyed him speculatively. "When did you began to hunt down the ones who killed your parents?"

His blue eyes blazed. "I was eleven when I found the first one I knew had been a part of the raid. I wanted someone to pay for what they had done. Afterwards, I joined the Thieves/Assassins Guild because the criminal element knows how to get into and out of closed places. Unfortunately, by the time I found those who had been taken, the Proctor's methods had broken most of my friends. The boys were no longer the boys I had grown up with. They had—changed. The girls they used for creating more Magi. The Proctors told Sylvie she had the potential to mother a powerful Magi, so they—bred—her to several of their candidates, hoping a seed would take root. Once it had, she was allowed more freedom. Pregnant women are encouraged to walk in the gardens to get fresh air. But Sylvie was strong; even the multiple rapes didn't break her. When I was spying on the Proctors, I recognized her and two of the others. I offered them the chance to escape, but only she had the will to accept my offer. When I helped Sylvie break out the Proctors set a bounty us. We were trying to get over the border into Jacite, but the child is coming too soon."

Sylvie moaned and clutched her belly as another contraction hit.

"Why is she doing ?" Logan demanded. "What is wrong with her?"

Catrin gave him an impatient look. "Nothing is wrong with her. Her body is getting ready to birth the child. Did you think childbirth was painless? Wash your hands with the soap there on the sink. The child will arrive before we leave here and I will need help."

"Who are you? The Caravan Master said someone from Ironlyn would come to help us. You had better know the bounty hunters are close on our trail. They may find us here," he warned her.

"They can try. The Magi Proctor hunters need not trouble you; Ironlyn is Warded against them and this cabin is inside the Wards. I am Draya Catrin, the healer at Ironlyn. Draconi Rebecca is my sister. We will have company when I don't arrive back tonight. I expect my Grandfather or Rebecca and Andre to come looking for me."

During one of the long periods between contractions, Catrin persuaded Sylvie to drink some of the strengthening tea she prepared.

"Does it always take this long?" Logan asked.

She cast an experienced eye on his worried face. Time to give him something to occupy him, or Sylvie would pick up on his unease. "Sometimes. It should be soon now though. The contractions are becoming more regular. Ummn, why don't you bring in some more wood and check on the unicorns."

As Logan stepped outside, he saw the two riders coming up the narrow trail from the valley. A black-haired woman wearing a red cloak accompanied by a tough looking man on a war unicorn. He waited, unconsciously pulling on Ironlyn's powerful Leys to summon his power. Overhead the clouds gathered.

Andre and Rebecca saw Logan waiting for them and stopped the unicorns a few feet from where he stood.

"Who are you?" Logan demanded. Overhead, thunder growled and lightning flashed. The wind picked up.

Rebecca dismounted. "I am Draconi Rebecca of Ironlyn and this is my affianced husband, Andre Benoit, the Defender of Ironlyn. Who are you?"

Logan's protective stance relaxed a trifle. "Catrin said you would turn up if she didn't make it back. I'm Logan Silvermane."

A low moan came from inside the cabin, and Logan's head jerked around. Catrin's voice could be heard calmly instructing someone to "breathe the way I showed you."

"I don't read any ill intent from him," Rebecca told Andre. She left the men to sort out their relationship, stepping around them to go inside the cabin.

Andre and Logan studied each other like two cats, each taking the other's measure. Andre saw past the too thin body and the scraggily beard to the warrior spirit underneath; Logan nodded, like recognizing like—he knew Andre for what he was as well.

"Is your wife in there?" Andre asked.

"No, but Sylvie is my family," Logan responded. "So is her child."

Andre nodded, correctly reading the warning he was being given. He looked up at the darkening sky. "I'll put our unicorns in the shed. It looks as if a storm is coming and Catrin won't take a newborn out into one."

Logan grimaced. "I'm probably responsible for the storm. The weather tends to respond to my emotions."

A memory clicked into place for Andre. "I know you. You're one of the Wild Magi, the one they call The Weatherman. You rode down into the Sekhmet's grove with us to provide cover against their Shaman when we rescued those captives from them. I remember the local Drake sent for you when the Shan's Proctors refused to go in there."

"Yes, I