Read Online For Love of Evil by Piers Anthony - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Piers Anthony
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came to it!
He glanced down at his left wrist, where the stain of her blood remained. Was her spirit really there in it? Or had Thanatos merely tried to make him feel better by the suggestion of her presence? Certainly no such presence had manifested.
Regardless, he would avenge her murder. Even if her ghost should come to him, what good was that? It was her living self he craved, his lovely and accommodating wife!
First he would have to get himself suitably situated. Then he would have to extend his second sight, to spy out the source of the evil. Then-
He paused in his reflections. Was that the sound of baying?
Yes, it was. The hounds were moving again-and coming this way!
He dropped his bundle of sticks and ran for the cottage. But he was some distance from it, having wandered far in his quest for fallen wood, and the dogs were moving rapidly. By the time he got in sight, they were there.
He ducked behind a large tree, knowing it would be folly to show himself. He could do nothing at the moment.
"We know you have him!" a soldier was shouting at the door. "You lied to us, old crone! Bring him out now!"
Parry couldn't hear her reply, but he saw its effect. "Then we'll roust him out the easy way," the soldier said grimly. He gestured to a companion. "The torch!"
Suddenly a torch was flaming. They touched it to the thatch of the cottage, which blazed up. In a moment all of it was burning, sending coils of smoke into the sky.
Parry could do nothing. He lacked magic potent enough to douse a fire of that magnitude, and had he had it, he could not have gotten close enough to use it without being spotted and captured or killed by the soldiers. His best choice was to wait until the soldiers departed, then help the woman craft another shelter. He was sorry he had brought this mischief upon her.
How had they known of his presence? They had been turned away before, but this time had been certain. No one had seen him except the woman, and he knew she had not betrayed him. They had erred only in their conviction that he remained in the cottage. That had saved him-but cost the proprietor.
Yet where was she? He saw the soldiers, but not the old woman. She would not have remained within the burning house! But she did not seem to be outside it, either.
He watched with growing alarm, then with honor. The woman had not emerged! Had she refused to leave her only refuge, or had the soldiers cruelly kept her in there to die in the flames?
At last the flames died down. The house was gone; its straw and wood had been consumed, leaving only the shoring of mud. Satisfied, the soldiers departed.
Parry was going to check the ashes, but now the villagers were coming out. They had to have seen the fire, but wisely stayed clear until the soldiers were gone. What would they make of Parry?
He doubted they would be kind. He knew he was responsible for the old woman's death. She had refused to tell the soldiers where he was, so they had burned her out. Perhaps they had stabbed her, so that she fell back into the flames and died. He had not thought to use his second sight-and what good would it have done, anyway? It would only have fixed his blame more precisely. It was his fault, regardless of the details. The woman had helped him, and he had tried to help her, and for that she had died. To his grief for his father and his wife was added this score for the old woman, whose name he had never learned.
There was nothing remaining here for him. He would have to get far away from here, where the soldiers did not know of him and did not seek to kill him.
He could change form and move rapidly. He had been restored, physically, by the food and the night's rest. But that would cost him the clothing the woman had given him, and he was reluctant to lose it. It was tattered material, and the shoes chafed, but it was clothing, and it was all he had left of the generosity of this
He glanced down at his left wrist, where the stain of her blood remained. Was her spirit really there in it? Or had Thanatos merely tried to make him feel better by the suggestion of her presence? Certainly no such presence had manifested.
Regardless, he would avenge her murder. Even if her ghost should come to him, what good was that? It was her living self he craved, his lovely and accommodating wife!
First he would have to get himself suitably situated. Then he would have to extend his second sight, to spy out the source of the evil. Then-
He paused in his reflections. Was that the sound of baying?
Yes, it was. The hounds were moving again-and coming this way!
He dropped his bundle of sticks and ran for the cottage. But he was some distance from it, having wandered far in his quest for fallen wood, and the dogs were moving rapidly. By the time he got in sight, they were there.
He ducked behind a large tree, knowing it would be folly to show himself. He could do nothing at the moment.
"We know you have him!" a soldier was shouting at the door. "You lied to us, old crone! Bring him out now!"
Parry couldn't hear her reply, but he saw its effect. "Then we'll roust him out the easy way," the soldier said grimly. He gestured to a companion. "The torch!"
Suddenly a torch was flaming. They touched it to the thatch of the cottage, which blazed up. In a moment all of it was burning, sending coils of smoke into the sky.
Parry could do nothing. He lacked magic potent enough to douse a fire of that magnitude, and had he had it, he could not have gotten close enough to use it without being spotted and captured or killed by the soldiers. His best choice was to wait until the soldiers departed, then help the woman craft another shelter. He was sorry he had brought this mischief upon her.
How had they known of his presence? They had been turned away before, but this time had been certain. No one had seen him except the woman, and he knew she had not betrayed him. They had erred only in their conviction that he remained in the cottage. That had saved him-but cost the proprietor.
Yet where was she? He saw the soldiers, but not the old woman. She would not have remained within the burning house! But she did not seem to be outside it, either.
He watched with growing alarm, then with honor. The woman had not emerged! Had she refused to leave her only refuge, or had the soldiers cruelly kept her in there to die in the flames?
At last the flames died down. The house was gone; its straw and wood had been consumed, leaving only the shoring of mud. Satisfied, the soldiers departed.
Parry was going to check the ashes, but now the villagers were coming out. They had to have seen the fire, but wisely stayed clear until the soldiers were gone. What would they make of Parry?
He doubted they would be kind. He knew he was responsible for the old woman's death. She had refused to tell the soldiers where he was, so they had burned her out. Perhaps they had stabbed her, so that she fell back into the flames and died. He had not thought to use his second sight-and what good would it have done, anyway? It would only have fixed his blame more precisely. It was his fault, regardless of the details. The woman had helped him, and he had tried to help her, and for that she had died. To his grief for his father and his wife was added this score for the old woman, whose name he had never learned.
There was nothing remaining here for him. He would have to get far away from here, where the soldiers did not know of him and did not seek to kill him.
He could change form and move rapidly. He had been restored, physically, by the food and the night's rest. But that would cost him the clothing the woman had given him, and he was reluctant to lose it. It was tattered material, and the shoes chafed, but it was clothing, and it was all he had left of the generosity of this
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