Lightnings Daughter, Mary Herbert [year 7 reading list .TXT] 📗

The gorthling had had enough of their questions. He turned his inhuman glance on the chieftains.

"To be your master!" he said with cold, deliberate malice.

The clanspeople reacted immediately. They surged closer, jostling and grabbing at the prisoner. The Dangari warriors struggled to keep them away until the chiefs could decide what to do.

Koshyn's face flushed with rage. Yet even as his fury mounted, a warning cry sounded in his head.

Branth had had the Book of Matrah in his possession for almost a year---plenty of time to learn sorcery.

If that was the case, then the only way they could render him defenseless was to kill him, or at least knock him unconscious. While he could think, he could cast spel s; someone would have to deal with him, and quickly.

Everyone's attention was on Branth, and the gorthling's attention appeared to be on the Dangari warriors that crowded around him. Without warning, Koshyn snatched a battle axe from the belt of a warrior beside him and brought it swinging toward Branth's head.

It never landed.

The gorthling saw the blurred movement out of the corner of his eye, then barked a spell that froze the chieftain in mid- motion. The clanspeople around them fell still, their eyes strained wide, their faces caught in expressions of disbelief and shock. The silence spread outward into the crowd until the entire council grove was quiet.

The gorthling laughed and snapped the bonds around his wrists. "Now, worthless little man,” he hissed to Koshyn, "perhaps you can tel me where the sorceress is." He raised his hand and sent a powerful burst of energy sizzling into Koshyn's body.

The excruciating pain ripped through the young Dangari. He screamed and fel to the ground in a writhing heap, unable to fight the torturous magic.

The sight of the vicious arcane spell broke the crowded clanspeople's stunned lethargy. They backed away to put a wide space between themselves and Branth. The chieftains, even Lord Jol, drew their swords, and they and the Dangari warriors leaped in to try to save the young lord. The gorthling blasted them aside as easily as swatting flies, killing three of the warriors. He continued to torture Koshyn.

"The sorceress!" Branth shouted furiously. "Where is she?"

"She's not here,” Lord Sha Umar answered desperately. He picked himself up from the ground, his eyes pinned on Koshyn's writhing body.

The gorthling's face twisted into a frightening mask of delight, hate, and rage that sickened the watchers. "Where is she?" He made a jabbing motion with his hand, and Koshyn screamed in agony.

Sha Umar stepped forward, his hand raised in a pleading gesture. "We don't know. She went to look for you.”

"She went to Pra Desh to find you,” Lord Jol cried. The old chief was on the verge of panic. "But she'll be here soon."

Branth pounced on Jol's words. "Soon? When!"

Wer-tain Guthlac spoke up. "No one knows."

"Tell me, you worms, or this man dies!" Branth screamed. "I want the sorceress."

"Then look behind you," a new voice cal ed from the edge of the grove.

The men started in surprise.

The gorthling whirled around and saw a young woman sitting astride a great black Hunnuli. He forgot about the men around him. His cruel mouth laughed in triumph, and his eyes began to glow red as the horse slowly paced toward him.

Without hesitation Sha Umar and Guthlac grabbed Koshyn's arms and dragged the chieftain's body out of sight, behind the council tent. The other clanspeople fled hastily out of the way. In the chaos, no one remembered the ancient tome in its brown leather bag lying in front of the council tent among the fallen stools, the scattered personal belongings, and the three dead Dangari warriors.

The gorthling sneered. "I've been looking for you, Sorceress.”

"And I you,” Gabria replied. Nara stopped twenty paces away, and the woman and the gorthling studied each other. Even in the warm morning Gabria felt a chill. The man before her looked like Branth physically: tall, brown hair, muscular build, everything perfectly normal and human. Only his presence was different. There was a cold glint of merciless cruelty in his eyes and an aura of hostility in his every move.

"We don't want you in this world,” Gabria said.

The gorthling smirked. "Some people did."

"Go back to your own realm,” she retorted. "You don't belong here."

"It's too late, Sorceress. I am here to stay." Even as the words left his mouth, the gorthling fired a bolt of the Trymian Force at the woman.

It came so fast Gabria was taken by surprise. However, the Hunnuli had been waiting for just such a move, and she reared high to protect her rider. The blue bolt struck her full on her chest, burst in a cloud of sparks, and evaporated harmlessly in the air.

The mare snorted.

Shaken, Gabria patted Nara in thanks and quickly formed an oblong clan battle shield with her arcane power. The magic shield was not as effective as a full force field, but it needed much less energy to maintain and would provide some protection. The gorthling came at her again and fired another bolt.

This time she caught the force with the shield. Again and again Branth attacked, his barrage of sizzling blue blasts almost constant. He circled the Hunnuli to catch the woman from every angle, but either she or the mare blocked each blow.

In the back of her mind Gabria prayed that a stray bolt would not hit some of the clanspeople hiding among the trees of the council grove or any of the onlookers across the rivers. The uproar of the battle had brought people running from all directions. They were crowding on the banks of both rivers and watching Gabria and the gorthling with mixed amazement and horror. Many of them had never seen an arcane battle before. Fortunately for Gabria, no one dared cross the river to the council grove, and those people who hid among the trees and around the tent