Betrayal Read Free Page A

move. He had eyes only for the Chief Inquisitor. Goth’s ire was at boiling point; Merkhud had ruined his fun. All pretence at civility fled. He waved Merkhud aside and addressed the villagers, his shrill voice carrying loudly.
    ‘We come for the woman known as Marya.’
    A woman cried out and more wails joined with hers. He loved to hear them scream. He lifted his voice above the din.
    ‘She is sentient and has no place in our society. In the name of King Lorys, I pronounce she be embridled. Bring her forward immediately…or this whole village will be torched.’
    Heads turned towards a group of four women. The eldest began to yell a stream of helpless abuse, beating her chest as she sank to the dust. This amused the riders; more so when her daughters began crying. Only the youngest refused to break down, a plain woman with languid dark eyes that hardened as she stared at Goth.
    Tor could sense it coming though her power was weak. He felt her about to hurl it uselessly towards the Inquisitor when a calm voice spoke via a suddenly opened mindlink.
    It’s no good, Marya. They are shielded well with archalyt. Go quietly and your sisters and mother will live. If you fight, he has the excuse he wants to kill you now along with your family. The voice was firm but tender.
    Tor was rocked. He looked wildly around. Who had spoken with this power? Before he could check himself he began following its magical scent, reaching out with his own senses, scrambling after a barely remaining trace…back to the old man. Tor locked on for just a moment and then, petrified at what he had done, snapped away. He was too late. Tor sawthe shock of discovery register on the stranger’s face. He looked away, back to Marya who was being forced to her knees in front of Goth’s horse. The retreat was not fast enough; the stranger was equally gifted at chasing a scent.
    Physic Merkhud’s gaze burned into the side of the young scribe’s head…the intruder. Tor needed to escape. This was exquisitely dangerous. How could he have been so stupid after years of control? Although the exchange had occurred without note from the Inquisitors, Tor realised he was now indelibly marked by someone infinitely more subtle in the use of the Power Arts. Someone who could conceal the use of magic like he could.
    ‘Father, we must leave,’ he said and hurriedly bent to pick up his paperwork, nodding apologetically towards the Widow Ely. She only had eyes for the grisly scene unfolding in front of her.
    Jhon Gynt grabbed his son’s arm. ‘Torkyn…he expects an audience for the bridling. I like it not either but we must remain for fear of stirring his anger.’
    Tor looked over at Merkhud and this time their eyes locked. The surprise had still not left the old man’s face.
    Goth had taken the opportunity to outline to the gathered how he had tracked the girl down, homing in on her magic and marvelled at her stupidity in using it so carelessly.
    Finally he gave the command. ‘Bridle her!’
    Marya became hysterical, struggling and scratching at the men who held her. She was sending strikes ofpower at all her captors but, as Merkhud had warned, they and their horses were shielded by the mysterious archalyt, which reflected her power back at her.
    Tor could not bear to watch her agony. Without further thought he cast a spike of his own power at her which stunned her temporarily. He could sense the old man’s horror at his audacity but refused to meet his eyes.
    As the girl slumped to the ground, her mother cried out loudly to the heavens, begging the gods to unleash their wrath on the scum who would take her daughter.
    Fortunately, Goth was too immersed in watching the dull leather bridle, studded with the same archalyt, being lifted from its sack to hear the mother’s scorn. Several of his men busied themselves with unnecessarily pinning down Marya’s limp body whilst another lifted her head. Rhus pulled the headpiece onto her face, slipping the metal bar