Read Online Witch Queen by Kim Richardson - Free Book Online

out a shaky breath as I made my way
back to where I had tied Torak, my only true friend.
    The trouble was, someone else was already
there.
     

CHAPTER 6

     
     
     
    I T HAPPENED SO FAST I barely had time
to blink. The silver tip of a sword winked at me through the
semi-darkness.
    I jerked to the side, but not fast enough.
Pain seared in my side as the sword punctured my left hip. I spun
as I drew my sword, and I managed to deflect what would have been a
fatal blow to my head. The force of the blow sent me crashing to my
knees. I shifted and sent a powerful kick that caught my assailant
in the knee with a horrible crunch. He staggered back and I had
time to jump to my feet.
    My tears burned as I tried to focus on my
attacker. He was tall and built like a tree trunk, with thick arms
and strong hands. The tip of his giant sword was stained with
blood, my blood. He moved with the surety and grace of a seasoned
warrior. A thick leather baldric stuffed with a collection of
daggers, short swords and hunting knives was strapped around his
shoulder and wrapped around his body. He was geared for war. He
looked at me hard with small, cruel eyes as I lowered myself into a
fighting stance. In spite of the darkness, I could see the royal
orange and yellow colors of Romila on his tunic and cloak. We
hadn’t even crossed their borders, and yet the Romilians were out
for blood.
    But why? The Great Race was over. Why was
this Romilian trying to kill me?
    As far as I knew, Romila hadn’t been at war
with Anglia for over four hundred years, before the age of the
priests. Unless this was something else entirely…
    My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds
of male voices. The clang of metal rang in the cool air as my
comrades arrived and drew their weapons. I could feel the tingling
heat of my healing power work through my body as it pulled and
stitched my skin back together.
    However, the big Romilian kept his eyes on
me, never wavering to look at the others. It was obvious that I was his target. He was a single Romilian against a witch
and six rebels. He must have had a death wish to continue as he
was. But then twenty more giant Romilians spilled from the shadows
of the forest. We were surrounded and seriously outnumbered.
    “You!” spat my attacker. His lips were
parched, and his breathing was shallow. The hatred in his eyes was
enough to make me stiffen, but there was no black fever in
them.
    “My Madolina and Imilia are dead because of
you!” His thick accent made his words sound forced and sluggish, as
if he were drunk.
    “Calm down, friend ,” I said raising
my left hand in what I hoped was a peaceful gesture. “You’re
mistaken. I’ve never touched a hair on anyone called Madolina, or
Imilia for that matter—”
    “You lying, witch whore!”
    I raised my eyebrows at this. So, he knew
what I was. Interesting.
    He paused and appeared to be looking for
something inside of me. He was looking for my magic, as though I
wore it like my woolen cloak.
    Leo met my gaze, and I gave him a small
shake of my head hoping he could read my thoughts as well as Jon
used to.
    “You’re the cause of the sickness, the death
of the land and our families,” said my attacker. He stared at me
with eyes of iron. The hair on my arms rose.
    Instinctively, I opened my mouth, ready to
tell him that he was wrong, that I wasn’t the cause of the
sickness—but he was right. I had started it. Even if it was
the necromancer priests’ black magic that was killing the land, I had recovered the Heart of Arcania, and it had enabled and
amplified their power.
    I angled my sword at his midsection.
    “You’re mistaken,” I ventured. I could see
that Garrick was frightened in the whites of his eyes, and my
throat tightened. It took some effort to clear it.
    “We’re just hunters,” I lied. “We’re looking
for game that hasn’t been spoiled, to bring back to our families.
That’s it. We’ll be happy to share if you’ll just lower