Read Online The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle by Anne Brooke - Free Book Online Page B

source, no matter how…how…”
    Annyeke drew in her breath and her heart beat fast. She’d never suspected before that her overseer had no idea at all how to talk to children, but right now he looked as if he’d rather be fighting the mind-executioner single handedly than being in front of a young boy asking to help. She was about to step forward, but Simon got there first. The scribe hunkered down next to Talus instead of towering over him, as Johan was.
    “… How unexpected and also welcome is what my good friend means,” Simon said, touching the boy’s head with his fingers so thought could more easily be shared. This gesture was not Gathandrian etiquette, but Talus didn’t object. Neither did Annyeke. “I think that in the days ahead all of us will need some unexpected, welcome events, won’t we?”
    The boy smiled and nodded, confidence restored.
    “Good,” Annyeke said, bending down to pick up slivers of pottery from the floor next to him, mainly in order to hide her smile. “In that case, what we should do first is tidy up, and then we’ll begin our tasks.”

    Duncan Gelahn
    There is much that is pleasing to the mind-executioner about Tregannon’s private bedroom, much that he has not experienced in his battle to take back what is his. The curtains are made of the richest green velvet, decorated with the Tregannon insignia, a gold star split by a black sword. And, between the sconces, the wall hangings show scenes from the land beyond the castle, from a time before the war destroyed much of what Lammas possessed—the woods in summer, a riot of dark green against a rich blue sky, a view across corn pastures to the distant mountains and a harvesting party.
    Ralph’s bed is the centrepiece of the room. The linen is embroidered in gold, the pattern an interpretation of all the stars to be found in the Lammas skies. It is the intricate carving of the headboard that draws Gelahn’s eye most. A long fox is caught by the sculptor padding across the grained oak. The executioner can see each strand of fur and every rippling muscle, and the rays of sunlight streaming through the window make the creature’s eyes seem alive. Odd how, for a sophisticated man, Tregannon favours nature and the star legends. The fox is the Overlord’s sign, cunning and swiftness of thought.
    The Lammas Overlord now possesses neither of these attributes. Instead, he looks beaten by what has happened and his mind is jagged with despair. The mind-executioner cannot help but smile at this as he runs his finger along the body of the fox; it is always best for one’s companions to be weaker than oneself. Without hope or purpose, Ralph Tregannon will be easy to manipulate. And if he is not…well, because of the Scribe’s words at the end of the recent battle, Tregannon cannot be harmed, but he can be made to suffer. That should be enough. All he wants from the Lord Tregannon are his military skills, the minds and bodies of his soldiers and the weapons at their disposal.
    Now, Tregannon stares at him, his eyes wide. Gelahn can sense his thoughts well enough before the man actually speaks.
    “A physical war?” he says, taking a step back. “You plan to fight Gathandria by force of arms and men? How? The land is so far away. Will you take my whole army, what is left of it, and fly them to the magical city?”
    Gelahn spits his anger out. “There is nothing magical about Gathandria, believe me.”
    “I thought it was the most beautiful place I have ever seen—a land of tall glass and stone, although damaged, from the little I glimpsed of it.”
    “Beautiful or not—and if you have seen the parts of it I have seen, you would not call it thus—we will fight it and we will win because the evils it has perpetrated do not allow it to survive. There will be a reckoning, and beyond that, a turning of fortunes. For when Gathandria dies, and it will, your people and your lands will live.”
    A silence. The mind-executioner can sense the