Soul of Kandrith (The Kandrith Series) Read Free Page B

bank. “I won’t go.”
    “Oh, yes, you will. I’ll drag you by the hair if I have
to.”
    Could he drag her by the hair? Wouldn’t her hair break under
the weight of her body? At the very least, dragging her would slow him down.
Sara stayed seated.
    “Nir’s Sword,” the man swore. He grabbed a handful of her hair
and yanked. “Up!”
    Sara went limp. He dragged her up the bank and over forest
ground rough with broken sticks and stones. Pain radiated from her scalp. She
could feel individual hairs being yanked out by the roots—-each a separate sharp
pull. Fascinating.
    After five feet, the legionnaire dropped her beside a willow
tree. His lungs heaved, breath coming fast. He poked her leg with the spear. A
white spot appeared, then turned pink again. “Up, you lazy twotch.”
    Sara stayed where she was. Obdurate.
    He jabbed her again, drawing blood. The stinging from her scalp
was already fadng, but the spear wound throbbed. Perhaps because it was deeper?
So many types of pain, all interesting.
    Lance wouldn’t like it. But he would heal her. And that was
even better.
    If she stayed with Lance.
    The man’s cheeks flushed, and he bared his teeth. “Get up now,
or I’ll shove this through your heart.” He jiggled the spear.
    Lance couldn’t heal the dead. Sara rolled to her feet in a
single smooth motion. Warm blood trickled down her calf.
    “That’s better.” The legionnaire stopped showing her his
teeth.
    Sara watched his movements. She had a small belt knife, but the
spear gave him a longer reach. She needed to get it away from him or lure him
closer and take him by surprise. “We should bring food with us.”
    His eyes narrowed. “You’re stalling, but it’s a good idea. Grab
the sack.”
    He kept pace beside her as she retrieved Lance’s travel pack.
His stomach growled.
    “You’re hungry.” Sara set some bread on a nearby log and sawed
off two slices with a long knife. She held the knife loosely in her hand as if
forgotten.
    When he reached for a slice, she struck. She drove the knife
down through the back on his hand, deep into the wood.
    He screamed and tried to pluck it out.
    She drew her belt knife and pinned his left wrist to the log,
too. While he shrieked and cursed, she picked up the spear, then prodded him in
the back. “Stop trying to free yourself.”
    He stilled.
    She began counting her pulse again. She hadn’t quite reached
three thousand beats when the shandy burst through the line of pine trees
screening the stream.
    The cat shandy stumbled to a halt, breathing ragged. “Sarrra,
arrre you well? I came as fast as I could once I rrrealized his trrrail looped
arrround. What happened?”
    Before she could answer a horse and cart drew up on the road. A
middle-aged woman and a black-haired man climbed down.
    “I asked the villagerrrs to come,” the shandy said.
    The man had longer legs and reached the campsite first. “What’s
going on? Is that your escaped prisoner?”
    “Yes,” the cat shandy said. It and the man began to talk to
each other. Sara put down the spear and returned to Lance’s side. His forehead
felt cold and clammy to her touch.
    The middle-aged woman came and crouched at Sara’s side,
examining Lance. She clicked his tongue. “He’s in sorry shape.” She stood up and
addressed the man and the shandy. “I suggest you tie up your prisoner so we can
get the Kandrith’s brother in the wagon.”
    “Will he—?” The man didn’t finish his sentence, but the woman
still answered.
    “It’s in Loma’s hands.”
    The man bound the prisoner’s wrists a few inches apart with a
belt then yanked out the knives. The prisoner’s red-rimmed eyes watched Sara as
she cleaned off her knife and returned it to her belt.
    The cat shandy growled. “Don’t even think it.”
    He flinched.
    Think what? Sara didn’t understand, nor did she care enough to
ask.
    “Rhiain, your prisoner’s bleeding. If you want him to last the
journey, best heal him. Or kill him here