Prophecy's Ruin (Broken Well Trilogy) Read Free Page B

retained.’
    ‘Very good, my lord.’
    Battu’s shadow wavered in some unseen wind. ‘I am combining your encampment with those of Golt and Salindy,’ he said. ‘You’ll be in charge.’
    Satisfaction suffused Turen, but again he held his emotions tight. ‘As you wish, my lord. Thank you.’
    ‘I am not overly pleased with Salindy’s efforts thus far,’ said Battu. ‘And although I want no undue risks taken, in battle there will always be risk of some kind.’ His shadow grew larger, creeping up the walls of the tent. ‘Feel free to risk her.’
    ‘I understand, lord.’
    ‘Reinforcements will arrive shortly, and war engines from the ringlet. Marshal them as if we are planning for full-scale invasion. Continue to harass in the meantime.’
    ‘Yes, lord.’ Turen’s curiosity fought with caution and he dared to venture a question. ‘My lord, may I ask . . . do we have the child?’
    ‘Soon,’ said Battu.
    With that, the Shadowdreamer receded like smoke flowing backwards. The tent’s shadows returned to their normal selves. Turen stood a few moments longer just to make sure, then let out a long breath. He turned to his maps and stuck a pin into Lerinsk.
    •
    Elessa Lanclara broke free of an entangling vine and slid down an embankment. She was a slightly plump young mage with a fair complexion, blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. She wore a white dress of office that had seen better days. As she reached the slippery rock of the gully below, Dakur was waiting to steady her. He was a blade, assigned as her personal guard – a stocky fellow of medium height, with tanned skin, short, dark hair and a square jaw. He wore thick trousers and boots, and a leather vest that did little to keep the rain from his shoulders. At his side hung a long sword with a bronze hilt. The two of them were Varenkai, humans of Kainordas, land of the light.
    Once Dakur was certain Elessa had her footing, he turned to frown at the stream that gushed through the gully. It flowed high and fast in the storm, but Elessa knew he worried about things more dangerous than currents. There were many reasons why Whisperwood was known not to be a welcoming place.
    On either side of the gully towered the tall grey trees that populated the wood, their crisscrossing branches waving in the wind like a spider’s web. On the gully floor, pale rocks shone where moonlight found them, and reflections of the running water danced across their faces. Elessa shivered, and not because of the rain. She wasn’t quite ready to believe the stories about this place, but nonetheless moved a step closer to Dakur. Maybe she just didn’t want to believe them.
    ‘I could float us across,’ she suggested.
    Dakur scratched at the beginnings of stubble. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We don’t know who else is running about in this accursed wood. You should save your power.’
    ‘My power won’t be worth much if I’m at the bottom of a stream being chewed to bits by a fisherman’s bane!’ Elessa snapped.
    A half-smile flashed across Dakur’s face so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it. ‘We’ll cross by foot,’ he said. ‘I’ll stand upstream. If anything happens, float yourself out of danger before you worry about me.’
    ‘Dakur –’
    ‘Banes prefer still waters anyway, I think. We should be safe.’
    Locking hands around each other’s wrists, they stepped into the stream. Instantly they were up to their waists in rushing water, struggling against a forceful flow. Elessa scanned for movement upstream, but the water churned too violently to see anything beneath the surface. The undercurrent dragged at her dress and things unseen brushed her legs. She hoped they were leaves and twigs.
    Moments later they emerged on the opposite bank, scrabbling across rocks until they stood beneath trees. Elessa realised she was still holding Dakur’s wrist and sheepishly let go. She pulled up the soaked sleeves that clung to her arms and they slid right back down.