Bronze Magic (Book 1) Read Free Page B

the smoke seeped out into the corridor, he heard a muttered
exclamation, followed by the precipitous entry of the guard. Tarkyn
stepped behind him and closed the door. At the sound, the guard swung
round, his eyes widening at the sight of the prince.
As the guard’s hand went to his sword, Tarkyn sent a thin blast of
power into the man’s forearm. The guardsman reeled back, clutching his
arm in pain. Tarkyn said quietly, “I do not want to hurt you further. But
if you make any move to attack me, I will retaliate.”
The guard lurched towards Tarkyn, “I cannot allow you to threaten
our king. I must protect him, even if it means my life.”
Tarkyn waved his hand languidly and muttered, “Shturrum”, freezing
the man in his tracks. The prince raised his eyebrows. “I would expect no
less. That is, after all, your duty. However, you have my assurance that I
intend the king no harm. I am merely passing through.” He considered
the guard dispassionately, “I am afraid I will have to tie you up so that
I can make good my escape. I will not gag you if you hold your peace.”
He shrugged, “Besides, I doubt that there is anyone near enough to hear
you at the moment.” Saying that, he dragged the tasselled rope from the
king’s dressing gown and used it to tie the guard’s hands behind him,
before waving his hand to release the spell. Then he frogmarched the
guard over to the huge four-poster bed, sat him down unceremoniously
on the eiderdown and tied him to an upright.
The guard watched warily as Tarkyn stepped back to survey his
handiwork. After a moment, Tarkyn met his eyes, “And now, guardsman,
if I leave you like this, you will avoid excessive punishment, I think.”
“I do not wish to avoid punishment. I have failed in my duty,” replied
the guard stiffly.
“Don’t be such a martyr. I have already told you; the king is safe. And
I do not wish my actions to be the cause of your suffering, any more than
they already are.”
“Huh! From what I hear, your actions tonight have caused a great deal
more suffering than this. I can’t imagine why you would concern yourself
with me.”
The prince’s mouth set in a thin line. “You forget yourself.”
Under Tarkyn’s unbending stare, the guardsman lowered his head. “I
beg your pardon, Your Highness. Tonight’s events have confused us all.”
“That may be so,” Tarkyn conceded, “But whatever else I may be held
to be, I am still a prince of Eskuzor…and you and anyone else who
crosses my path would do well to remember it.”
At that, the guardsman raised his head and subjected Tarkyn to a long
considering stare. But before he could voice his thoughts, Tarkyn crossed
quickly to the door, listening intently.With a brief nod at the guardsman,
he opened the door and slipped out into the dimly lit corridor. It was
deserted. He headed to his right, his nerves jangling, expecting at any
moment that one of the doors he passed would open. The sound of his
footsteps, despite his best efforts at stealth, echoed around the stone
walls. With a grimace at the delay, he risked a few moments to take off
his boots. Holding them in one hand, he crept on stockinged feet to the
top of the staircase.
Suddenly he heard the voices of his brothers coming towards him,
somewhere below him in the central hallway. He stepped back and pressed
himself into an alcove, finding shelter behind a large statue of his great
grandmother. As he listened, a messenger ran to catch up with the king
and reported, “Your Majesty, there is still no news. The entire building
has collapsed in on itself. Workmen are even now trying to reach those
trapped beneath the rubble. The streets are filled with anxious relatives
and onlookers. There have been no sightings of your brother the prince,
Sire, and until what is left of the interior is breached, it is too early to say
whether he still lives.”
“Thank you,” said Kosar gravely. As Tarkyn heard the