Lightnings Daughter by Mary Herbert (android based ebook reader .txt) 📗

but he could do little to ease their anxiety and restlessness.

Khan'di sent a message saying he was safe and still working on his plans. However, he could not come himself. Gabria worried about him and about all of her companions. The tension was wearing everyone thin.

She was particularly worried about Piers. The old healer spent most of his time drinking Sengi's wine and speaking to no one. He sat against the wall, his eyes staring at a place far away and his body sagging with the sadness of his memories.

For his sake, Gabria prayed that their wait would soon end.

On the evening of the third day Khan'di finally returned, soon after the last laborer had left the warehouse. He brought with him a map of the palace and an old, ragged man wearing only a goatskin tunic and rough leggings.

Once again the travelers stared at Khan'di when he came into their hiding place. His rich court robes were gone, replaced by a shin of chain mail, leather pants, greaves of steel, and a bright blue surcoat embroidered with his dolphin emblem. His normally controlled features were alive with anticipation. He held out his arms and cried, "Tonight, we go to war!'"

The travelers gathered around him, everybody talking and asking questions at once. Piers rose from his place at the wal and came to join them.

"Please! I will explain,” Khan'di cal ed over the noise as he waved them to silence. Concisely, he told Gabria and the warriors of his plan to attack the palace and free Branth from the Fon's clutches. When he was finished, they stared at each other and then at him in shock at the sheer audacity of his plan.

"Are you serious?" Gabria asked.

"Absolutely. The pieces have all fallen into place."

"You are relying on a great many pieces,” Piers remarked dryly.

Khan'di's eyes blazed. "This plan will not fail."

"Can you trust him?" Athlone demanded, pointing to the old man who had been standing silently through the discussion.

"He is a hillman from one of the ancient tribes that live in the Redstone Hills. He has given his word that what he knows is true and that he wil lead you where you need to go. He wil die before he breaks his vow," Khan'di replied.

Athlone rubbed his chin. "Fair enough." He paused. "Wil you give us your vow, as wel ?"

The nobleman locked eyes with the chieftain. "I swear to you before my god," Khan'di said, "and upon the honor of my family, I will raise the people and create the biggest riot this city has ever seen."

The chieftain studied Khan'di's face and was satisfied with what he saw. Gravely he responded,

"Then I swear before our gods that we wil fol ow your plan and do our best to find Branth."

"And kil him if you have to,” Khan'di added. "Do not leave him in the Fon's hands."

Athlone nodded. "Agreed."

"What about the Fon?" Gabria asked.

"If all goes well, you won't have to worry about her. She'll be too busy fighting an uprising."

Piers looked dubious. He was the only one who completely understood the risks Khan’di was taking by trying to bring a city like Pra Desh into an armed revolt. "Are you so certain the army will mutiny?"

Khan'di slapped the hilt of the sword hanging at his belt. "Enough wil . The Fon's regulars won't, but the mass of the army is conscripted and they want no part of a war with the other kingdoms."

Piers shook his head. "My old friend, your audacity is astounding. Elaja be with you this night."

"And you, Healer." Khan'di looked around at them al . "Tomorrow we will meet again. Until then, good luck, my friends." He started to leave, then turned and squeezed Gabria's arm. "Thank you, Sorceress,” he murmured.

When he was gone, the clanspeople gathered their weapons and their gear. They packed everything they did not need and stacked the bundles by the wal .

Piers exchanged his long healer's robe for a tunic and a pair of Athlone's woolen pants. He strapped his healer's bag to his belt. He was standing, staring at the floor when Gabria touched his arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Are you all right?" she asked, for his face was sickly pale. He seemed to have aged ten years the past three days.

The healer licked his dry lips. "I never thought I'd go back there. To the palace. Did I tell you my daughter died in that dungeon?"

Gabria's heart went out to him. "You only told me the Fon had killed her."

"Tortured her,” he corrected bitterly.

"We have Khan'di's map. You don't have to go."

Abruptly Piers's head snapped up. "Yes, I do, for both our sakes. Besides, a guide works better than a map."

"I am glad you think so, too,” she said with relief and gratitude.

"What about Tam and Treader?" Sayyed asked. "Do we leave them with Sengi?"

The words were barely out of his mouth when Treader started barking madly. Tam sprang forward and wrapped her arms around the Turk's waist. Gabria, Athlone, and Sayyed clamped their hands over their ears to stifle the racket, but they could not silence Treader's frantic pleas ringing in their heads.

"He's trying to tell us that Tam is terrified to be left alone," Gabria cried over the barking.

A strange, sympathetic look came over Sayyed's face, and he bent down to pry Tam from his side.

The girl transferred her grip to his neck, and he lifted her easily, whispering something in her ear.

Treader's barking immediately stopped; the big dog's tail wagged. Sayyed glanced at Athlone and shrugged. "When I was small, I did not like to be alone either. I'll keep her with me."

The chief agreed, and Tam shyly smiled her thanks.

When they were ready to go, Athlone signaled to the hil man to lead the way. The old man could not speak their language or even the polyglot language of the wharves and streets. He merely grunted and loped out of