Blood of the Earth Read Free Page B

word to the camp physician to expect wounded.”
    “Very good, My Lord,” Lieutenant Doyle said with a crisp salute.
    “Lieutenant, I need a bandage,” Isabel said before he could attend to his duties. He nodded and gestured to another Ranger who produced a field dressing from his pouch and handed it to Isabel. She went to work cleaning and wrapping Alexander’s wound.
     
    ***
     
    Alexander stood in the gloom of late evening, watching eleven funeral pyres burn as he struggled to keep his attention away from the throbbing pain in his left arm. He’d applied a generous scoop of healing salve, but it seemed to have no more effect than Isabel’s healing light.
    Eleven more people had died for his cause. Ten Rangers and Mage Landi—eleven more families torn asunder.
    He pulled Isabel closer.
    Mage Gamaliel and the Rangers had carefully transported Jataan back to the Ranger encampment. Boaberous reported that he’d given the battle mage the healing draught but it had no effect. The camp physician had worked on him for over an hour, cleaning and disinfecting the wound and then bandaging it.
    His report to Alexander wasn’t optimistic. The injury was deep and the damage was great. He gave Jataan P’Tal even odds of surviving unless some form of magic could be found that would aid in the healing process.
    Boaberous had stoically stepped into the position of Alexander’s protector, shadowing him without request or permission, but Alexander knew that as big and formidable as Boaberous Grudge was, he wasn’t equal to the battle mage.
    Jataan’s injury had shaken Alexander—not just for the hopefully temporary loss of his protector, but because it had happened at all. He had come to believe that no mortal swordsman was a match for Commander P’Tal. Alexander’s experiences fighting beside the battle mage had only served to confirm that belief.
    But this enemy was different—they were created to take those closest to Alexander, and they had succeeded in besting two mages in battle. One dead, the other gravely injured. But they hadn’t succeeded against the Guild Mage.
    He’d knocked one of the three men mixed with darkness unconscious, revealing their weakness, and he’d put a magical collar around his neck that confined the darkness within. The prisoner was locked in a cage, awaiting transport to Blackstone Keep.
    The funeral fires burned down. Alexander looked at Isabel. He’d come close to losing her today. The thought still made his soul quail. He needed her more than he needed air.
    “We should go have a chat with our prisoner,” Alexander said.
    She nodded.
    Kelvin frowned. “I believe you should have adequate security present. The magic within these men is beyond my understanding and the collar I put on the prisoner may not prevent him from transporting himself outside of the cage.
    “When you sent word of the shades,” Kelvin continued, “I conceived of the collar and designed it to act much as a magic circle does—preventing darkness confined within from escaping. My hope was to be able to imprison a shade within a single victim. I never envisioned a creature such as this. However, the prisoner doesn’t seem to be able to wield the magic he used so effectively during the attack.”
    “You think he’s just waiting for the right time to strike?” Jack asked.
    “Perhaps,” Kelvin said. “Mostly, I’m proceeding with an abundance of caution.”
    “You’ll get no argument from me,” Alexander said. “Give me a minute, I have something I need to do before we go have our chat.”
    He went to Lieutenant Wyatt and invited him to walk with him. Once they’d strolled out of earshot of the other mourners, they stopped and watched the fading light of the funeral pyres in silence for a moment.
    “You and your men have paid a heavy price for volunteering to accompany me,” Alexander said quietly.
    Wyatt nodded somberly and fell silent. He was struggling with fresh grief. Alexander gave him the time he