Read Online In Camelot’s Shadow: Book One of The Paths to Camelot Series (Prologue Fantasy) by Sarah Zettel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Zettel
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difficulty in finding the track through the forest that would lead them down to the broad Roman road. The rustles of the night-waking animals accompanied them. An owl hooted once overhead. The stars in all their millions filled the sky with glory and the wind blew chill, but soft, across Risa’s skin. Slowly, she felt the ache in her throat begin to ease.
Perhaps it would not be so bad. Perhaps the Mother Superior of St. Anne’s would shelter her without requiring that she take vows. The emerald ring and the rest would, after all, buy a small convent much that it needed. Perhaps Whitcomb could find some excuse to travel alone again and come visit her there, bringing Vernus with him. Perhaps a small deception could be given out that would ensure the priest who came to hear the sisters’ confessions would agree to marry Risa to Vernus on the spot … then they could have their wedding night, and make sure the deception became the truth. Then no one would have to know what father had done, and she would not have to be the cause of his dishonor. For despite all, she found she still had love in her heart for him.
Perhaps mother could make father see reason after all, and Risa would be able to go home and live in peace again without resorting to such elaborate games to keep her freedom.
Games. Played on a board of ivory and ebony. What is it every woman wants?
Risa closed her mind tightly against these thoughts. It had been a dream, after all. A dream. She could not let it distract her now.
Ahead, the black trunks of the trees parted just enough to show the stretch of road the Romans had laid, still straight and flat even after all these years. But Risa’s eyes which had become well-accustomed to the dark picked out something standing just at the point where the track met the road. It was not a tree, nor yet a road marker. It might have been a standing stone, but there had never been any such in this place.
Whitcomb urged Blaze into the lead. Past him, she saw the wind catch hold of cloth, and realized what she saw was a tall man wrapped in a dark robe.
“Who is that?” Whitcomb demanded.
The figure spoke, and its voice was low and cold. “I am Euberacon Magus, and you, old man, have what is rightfully mine.” Euberacon turned toward her and in the light of the waxing moon she saw his hooded eyes glinting like a serpent’s — cold, inhuman, and filled with the knowledge of death.
Risa’s mouth went instantly dry. She pulled Thetis to a halt. She did not ask how this could be, she did not have thought enough in her head for that. She only knew deep and sudden fear at the sound of that voice and the dark sheen of those hooded eyes. This was the one to whom her father had promised her life, and he had come to collect.
Thetis whickered and stamped. Risa pressed her knees into the grey mare’s ribs. Thetis balked, but began slowly to back. The track was narrow here, and there wasn’t enough room to turn her easily.
“Stand aside for my lady.” Whitcomb commanded. “Or do you relish the thought of being run down by a pair of horses?”
Now she could see that the dark-robed man had thin lips and that they twitched into a smile. Whitcomb dug his heels into Blaze’s sides and the horse started forward.
No!
she tried to shout, but no sound came.
Euberacon raised his hand, and Blaze reared up high, screaming in sudden, unbearable terror. Utterly unprepared, Whitcomb crashed to the ground. Blaze fled into the darkness, running in blind panic past the sorcerer who stood still as a stone, caring not a bit as his robes rippled in the wind of the terrified animal’s passing.
“I can make that creature run itself to death,” said Euberacon calmly, as if remarking on the weather. “I can do the same to a man. Shall I prove these things to you so you will see I may not be brooked or gainsaid?”
Whitcomb groaned and tried to rise. The sorcerer glanced down at him, distantly, as if the fallen man were no more than a
Perhaps it would not be so bad. Perhaps the Mother Superior of St. Anne’s would shelter her without requiring that she take vows. The emerald ring and the rest would, after all, buy a small convent much that it needed. Perhaps Whitcomb could find some excuse to travel alone again and come visit her there, bringing Vernus with him. Perhaps a small deception could be given out that would ensure the priest who came to hear the sisters’ confessions would agree to marry Risa to Vernus on the spot … then they could have their wedding night, and make sure the deception became the truth. Then no one would have to know what father had done, and she would not have to be the cause of his dishonor. For despite all, she found she still had love in her heart for him.
Perhaps mother could make father see reason after all, and Risa would be able to go home and live in peace again without resorting to such elaborate games to keep her freedom.
Games. Played on a board of ivory and ebony. What is it every woman wants?
Risa closed her mind tightly against these thoughts. It had been a dream, after all. A dream. She could not let it distract her now.
Ahead, the black trunks of the trees parted just enough to show the stretch of road the Romans had laid, still straight and flat even after all these years. But Risa’s eyes which had become well-accustomed to the dark picked out something standing just at the point where the track met the road. It was not a tree, nor yet a road marker. It might have been a standing stone, but there had never been any such in this place.
Whitcomb urged Blaze into the lead. Past him, she saw the wind catch hold of cloth, and realized what she saw was a tall man wrapped in a dark robe.
“Who is that?” Whitcomb demanded.
The figure spoke, and its voice was low and cold. “I am Euberacon Magus, and you, old man, have what is rightfully mine.” Euberacon turned toward her and in the light of the waxing moon she saw his hooded eyes glinting like a serpent’s — cold, inhuman, and filled with the knowledge of death.
Risa’s mouth went instantly dry. She pulled Thetis to a halt. She did not ask how this could be, she did not have thought enough in her head for that. She only knew deep and sudden fear at the sound of that voice and the dark sheen of those hooded eyes. This was the one to whom her father had promised her life, and he had come to collect.
Thetis whickered and stamped. Risa pressed her knees into the grey mare’s ribs. Thetis balked, but began slowly to back. The track was narrow here, and there wasn’t enough room to turn her easily.
“Stand aside for my lady.” Whitcomb commanded. “Or do you relish the thought of being run down by a pair of horses?”
Now she could see that the dark-robed man had thin lips and that they twitched into a smile. Whitcomb dug his heels into Blaze’s sides and the horse started forward.
No!
she tried to shout, but no sound came.
Euberacon raised his hand, and Blaze reared up high, screaming in sudden, unbearable terror. Utterly unprepared, Whitcomb crashed to the ground. Blaze fled into the darkness, running in blind panic past the sorcerer who stood still as a stone, caring not a bit as his robes rippled in the wind of the terrified animal’s passing.
“I can make that creature run itself to death,” said Euberacon calmly, as if remarking on the weather. “I can do the same to a man. Shall I prove these things to you so you will see I may not be brooked or gainsaid?”
Whitcomb groaned and tried to rise. The sorcerer glanced down at him, distantly, as if the fallen man were no more than a
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