The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting Read Free

moon-cycles, it has become apparent that the mind-executioner’s battles are not entirely without reason. He does not fight any in Gathandria directly. That is not his way, in spite of the challenges offered and the attempts made to confront him—he would be destroyed in an instant if he did so. Instead, he fights those around them who are weaker than he, and Gathandria also bleeds.
    Once, only two moons ago, Johan had hoped that with the combined mind-skills of Isabella, Petran and himself, he might have been able to entice the enemy out of hiding for long enough for the elders to overpower him. Or, at the very least, imprison him once more. He had been wrong. Very wrong. The guilt of that failure will always be with him. It is perhaps this, more than anything, that drives him to such drastic measures now.
    He squeezes his eyes shut at the memory for a moment as he turns the corner of Hope Street—or the remains of it—and catches the smell of the sea.
    At the same time, something whistles past him and lands with a thud in the broken wall.
    “What?”
    He opens his eyes and sees a large jagged knife embedded in stone. Blood is oozing from the blade. Something inside him tears apart. Isabella yells out. He grabs her hand and they begin to run just as another knife brushes past his hair. It falls with a clatter to the ground.
    The mind-executioner. It has to be. It’s too much of a coincidence. But how?
    “Come on!” Johan yells and curses Isabella’s clothes that slow her down. She stumbles and another knife sings through the air, coming from nowhere, and cuts his arm. Blood is falling all around them now and tens, no, hundreds of knives are dancing, thrusting, cutting at them. A deadly dance of evil.
    “Come on, Isabella!”
    He grasps her hand more firmly and pulls her towards the boat. She’s sobbing, and he can taste her fear. All the time, he’s dodging and jumping the knives that stab at them. Thank the gods that his sister’s skirts give her some protection, in spite of their heaviness. They must get to the boat. The gift of the water will protect them. Allow him and Isabella to refresh their powers so they can be more fully prepared. Such an attack as this cannot be sustained for long.
    Still the knives continue to dance and glitter. Blood glistens on the ground and their feet begin to slip. With one last, concerted effort, Johan grabs his sister and leaps with her through the mirage of metal and the two of them reach the water. The boat is the nearest one to the jetty; Johan has made sure of that, even in spite of his change of heart about the mission. Another knife flies by Johan’s ear and yet another buries itself in Isabella’s skirts. She screams. Johan pushes her into the boat and lands on top of her, at the same time freeing the knife before it cuts her flesh. With the wild knives still slashing blood from the air behind them, they grip their hands together and launch out onto the deep. The air is still at last. The knives vanish. Only the blood remains.
    The journey starts. All they need now is to keep to his plan.

Chapter One: Capture

    Simon
    They came for Simon Hartstongue at night; three men from the village. He was at the fire, damping it down with water to make sure it was out. The boy from the poor house was with him. He’d been teaching him letters for a while, along with the rest of the villagers who still wanted his skills as scribe. Not many of them now, of course. Simon continued the boy’s tutelage, as he was sick of the banter and the blows the women gave the child, who never complained, no matter what they did. He thought he might give the boy something, an apprenticeship of sorts, a skill his tormentors didn’t have. It was the only gift he had to offer. Which, for a man of thirty-two winters, was humiliating to have to admit. And still it wasn’t enough.
    All that day, something had been in the wind. Simon should have sensed it, but he hadn’t. Or at least had paid it no