Witch Bane Read Free

and
whinnies as they were led from the wafts of smoke that swirled
about them.
    Dressed in little more than rags, stained
with the dirt of the waste lands, and much more beyond, the caravan
man bowed. His eyes stood out bright against the grime that filled
the wrinkles of his face and the dark rings that encircled them.
“Praise the One for your arrival. I am Callum, once the sheriff of
Odenshir, and now the leader of the sad caravan of homeless
vagabonds you have just rescued.” He gestured to the cluster of
wagons that escaped the fire’s touch. “We have little to offer you
but all we have is yours, in thanks for what you’ve done for
us.”
    Darius waved him off. “We need nothing. Save
what you have for your own.” He glanced to the sky before looking
back to the man. “You should gather your people and be gone from
here. Come dark, the Red Guard will return with a fury. It’s best
you weren’t here to bear the brunt of it.”
    Sebastian slipped his cloak on as Darius
turned from Callum and motioned for his son to come along.
    “ Sir?” the man called out, daring
another step forward.
    Darius sighed and glanced over his
shoulder.
    Callum swallowed hard. “Are you part of the
resistance?”
    “ No.” Darius shook his
head.
    “ We were to join them,” Callum spit
out before Darius could turn away again, “but we lost our guide in
the attack. We do not know the way.” He drew a step closer, his
hands held out before him. “Please, sirs, I beg of you. If you know
where we might find one of the resistance camps, I would ask you
take us there.”
    Darius glared at Sebastian before his gaze
drifted back to the man. “We know nothing of the resistance’s
whereabouts. I’m sorry.”
    Tears welled in the man’s eyes. Darius
growled and leaned toward Sebastian, pulling him in close with a
handful of his cloak. “For all your good intentions, this is what
comes of playing the hero,” he whispered. “We travel for Deliton.
Bring them along or send them on their way, but the choice is
yours; as are the consequences, boy.”
    His father released him and strode away.
Sebastian sighed as he pulled his hood over his head and turned to
the man. “If you would be safe, come with us to the village of
Deliton. We can offer nothing else.”
    Callum bowed, obviously grateful for
anything. “Thank you, sir.”
    Sebastian nodded and watched as his father
continued on. “Best hurry and get your people moving, Callum. My
father does not intend to wait. Should you fall behind, do not
expect us to slow.”
    The caravan man muttered his understanding
and ran off to ready his people. Sebastian stared at Darius’ back.
He could feel his father’s anger and disappointment still. For all
the ease of his first true battle against the Red Guard, he knew
his father was right. He wasn’t ready. Had the captain been a witch
of the High Council, Sebastian would have been dead and his mother
would know no justice. He could not afford to make such stupid
mistakes if he would see the scales righted.
    He drew his hood further down over his face
and followed after his father. Though they were only two days out
of Deliton, in the fullness of a warm spring morning, the trip to
the village would be a long, cold walk for Sebastian in the wake of
Darius’ anger.

Two
     
    Emerald shifted uncomfortable in the saddle
while her horse navigated the course of gnarled roots and low-lying
foliage, which grew thick along the forested path. Far from the
silvered spires and bustling streets of her home, the capital city
of Corilea, the forest seemed desolate. The open sky hovered above
the clearing, the afternoon sun bright and warm. She clutched to
her stomach as she was jounced about, willing the bile that rose in
her throat to settle. Its bitter taste flooded her mouth. She
swallowed hard against it and drew up tight on the reins to settle
her mount. It would only slow their journey further were she to
vomit; again.
    “ Everything all right, my