Prophecy Unravelled- Heir Series Box Set Page 2

At his father’s nod, he left the room.

  Sean stared at the door after he left, wondering how he could keep the boy safe.

  But his mind wouldn’t settle to the problem, it kept drifting back to the woman. The water in the bowl was transparent now, no clue to the use it had been put to.

  He rose and turned the water to vapour with a thought, placing the empty vessel on the shelves among the other items he had painstakingly collected over the years.

  Returning to his work, he tried to put both problems out of his mind. He had promised to have these reports on the king’s desk by dinnertime, and while he could probably get away with being late, it was in his best interests not to irritate the king.

  Chapter 2 - A Fight

  Elizabeth clung low to Rianna’s back as the horses thundered across the sun-baked plain, away from the camp. The wind whipped her hair in front of her eyes and adrenaline surged in her veins. Without sparing a moment to look up, she knew her partner, Digger, was right beside her on Missa.

  Clumps of rough, dry spinifex grass, the only cover on the bare land, lashed at the horse’s legs. They raised a cloud of dust, but it wasn’t enough to hide them from the bandits following close on their tail.

  Elizabeth flicked back her head to let the wind blow her short blonde hair out of her eyes and couldn’t help but laugh for the sheer exhilaration of it. Sometimes she wondered if the only reason she lived was for moments like this.

  She risked a glance at Digger, smiling as he laughed back, enjoying the wild ride almost as much as she was.

  Their merriment carried back to the bandits pursuing them. Elizabeth heard their leader yell and spur his horse faster. She grinned in response.

  Though the bandit’s horses lacked the breeding and the conditioning of Elizabeth and Digger’s mounts, they were not afraid to use whips to make up for the lack.

  They were gaining. Elizabeth’s heart leapt. This was not going to be an easy victory then. Good. That was always anticlimactic.

  Elizabeth leaned low over Rianna’s sleek neck and whispered to the horse, who gallantly produced extra speed.

  Beside her, Digger kept pace.

  The woods they’d passed through earlier appeared in the distance. But they wouldn’t reach them before the bandits, now cheering in premature victory, caught up to them.

  Rising in the stirrups, Elizabeth turned slightly to face the bandits. They were so close, she could see their leader’s teeth, bared in as snarl. That only made her impending victory sweeter. Transferring both reins to her right hand, she held up her left, concentrating hard.

  It was difficult enough to focus her magical energy in Selenthia, being on the back of a bouncing horse certainly didn’t improve the situation, but her years of experience held her in good stead.

  A glow formed around her upheld hand as she drew upon the energy within her, manipulating and bending it to her will.

  The bandits froze, then as the glow intensified they all sawed frantically on their horse’s reins, trying futilely to turn.

  Elizabeth threw the ball directly into their midst.

  There was an almost inaudible boom when the ball hit one of the bandits. A ripple of power expanded out rapidly to hit the rest of the panicking group, sending horses and riders alike tumbling to the ground. The glow faded just short of the tails of Elizabeth and Digger’s still galloping horses.

  Digger didn’t even glance back.

  Elizabeth spared one last, fleeting look over her shoulder at the horses and bandits sprawled on the ground. A couple struggled to sit up, but most weren’t moving.

  Then they were in the woods, branches whipping past their faces as the horses slowed to navigate the obstacles in their path.

  Digger pulled Missa to a walk to step over a fallen tree trunk and glanced over at Elizabeth. “I always wonder how you manage to make sure those magic effects stop right before they hit us.” His tone was one of interested curiosity.

  “What if I told you it was pure luck and not good design at all?” Elizabeth tried, and failed, to keep her expression as serious as her tone.

  “I wouldn’t believe you for a moment,” Digger responded promptly.

  Adrenaline and magic mingled in Elizabeth’s veins, a dangerous combination. “There were a few getting up, at least five, they may just follow us. Should we keep running, or stop and fight?” she asked.

  Digger shrugged. “We’re outnumbered still. We can lose them in the trees easily enough.”

  “So we stay and fight then?”

  Digger shook his head in amusement, displaying no surprise at her response. He never did. Instead, he looked around for a good place to stand their ground.

  Branches cracking and leaves swishing indicated their pursuers were entering the woods and spreading out to search amid much cursing.

  “We should have a few moments between when the first men find us and the rest catch up. That will give us an advantage,” Elizabeth said in a low voice.

  She maneuvered Rianna behind a bush and dismounted. The horses were well enough trained that their trailing reins would keep them in one place unless they were called.

  Stepping out beside Digger, who’d finished hiding his own mount, she grinned and pulled out her broadsword, waiting for the men who could be heard approaching.

  Three of the bandits crashed through the underbrush. Two brandished swords, but the third was apparently unarmed.

  He was the one to watch.

  They checked for a moment when they saw Elizabeth and Digger standing, swords ready and waiting for them. The unarmed one called out, “She has used all her magic now. She’s not a threat. All she has is her sword.”

  So he was a mage. The tingle of magic she could sense from him now that he was closer confirmed it. Elizabeth’s chest tightened a little. For a second, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Perhaps Digger was right, and they should have kept running. It was unlikely he could match her power, but it was best to be cautious. He did nothing though, just waved the two swordsmen on.

  Elizabeth turned to meet the man coming towards her, keeping her magical senses ready for the attack that would probably come while she was distracted.

  The man in front of Elizabeth grinned, revealing a gap where one of his teeth was missing. His confidence buoyed by his companion’s assurance that she could not use her magic, he apparently saw little left to fear.

  Elizabeth flicked her hair out of her face, hiding a grin. It fooled them every time. They thought that because she wore no armour, just plain linen trousers and a loosely laced light weave shirt, that she wasn’t a fighter.

  In reality, she chose them because they were comfortable and allowed her full maneuverability.

  The bandit’s eyes were drawn to her chest, fixated on her climbing rose tattoo just visible. Another distraction.

  Letting himself be distracted was his first mistake.

  He charged straight into the fight, giving a yell to his friends that could be heard stumbling noisily through the woods in the distance, alerting them to their quarry’s presence.

  Elizabeth’s sword clashed against his, blocking his opening blow. She heard an echoing clash from Digger beside her and was remotely aware of the other bandits crashing through the underbrush towards them.

  They had only a few moments to take these three out before the next wave descended upon them. As the volley of swings came quickly, she realised that might not be as easy as she had expected. The bandit was good.

  Not better than she was, she judged dispassionately, but good enough that he might just hold her off for a few moments until his friends arrived.

  And there was still one more variable—the mage, standing watching the fight calculatingly.

  She needed to make this quick.

  The harsh sound of metal meeting metal hung in the air. Elizabeth parried the bandit’s blows, waiting for the mage to make his move.

  It didn’t take long. Thinking her distracted, he sent a firm push of air at her, hoping t
o throw her off balance.

  Dispersing the controlled particles before they reached her was a simple matter, not even causing her to waver in her defence.

  He stared at her, unsure what had happened and why his magic hadn’t worked. Undaunted, he tried again, this time with more determination and less subtlety. Elizabeth easily recognised the attempt to set her clothes on fire.

  Fire was one of her specialities, the first one she’d learnt to control, and it took even less effort to calm the particles as he tried to agitate them to flames. He gave up after only a few moments this time and she sensed his magic weakening.

  As she raised her sword to block yet another blow, she sent a magical clout of air, similar, but more focused than his had been, towards the mage.

  He fell silently.

  Elizabeth felt a little disappointed he hadn’t proved more of a challenge.

  The swordsman was so focused on the battle, he didn’t even notice the mage fail. Elizabeth switched her attention to the man in front of her, and with a patience born of long practise, she waited for the moment when he let his guard down.

  She lunged, letting her sword glance harmlessly off his armour. Appearing off balance, she deliberately left herself open for a swing that should have connected with her waist.

  That is, if something hadn’t stopped the blow in mid-air.

  That was what he didn’t understand. Why would a mage need armour when magic could provide the exact same protection?

  He stared at her for a moment, his eyes widening in sudden fear as he put two and two together.

  That pause was his second mistake. Elizabeth grinned wickedly at him and took full advantage of his distraction. She thrust up with all her strength.

  Her sword rang out as it hit his, but it didn’t stop, smashing through his weapon as though it were a stick. The momentum carried it up, slicing straight through his armour just as easily.

  He fell, still looking as though he couldn’t believe what had happened.

  Elizabeth glanced over at Digger, not sparing a second thought for the underhanded trick that had won her the fight.

  Back in the days when she’d first had a sword thrust upon her, he had drilled it into her that adhering strictly to honourable fighting was only required during practice or in a duel of honour. If she was fighting for real, for her life, then fighting fair was idiotic.

  The bittersweet memory diverted her momentarily, but she pushed it away, and focused on Digger. He was gaining ground over his opponent, but Elizabeth knew that the second bandit who joined the first would slow him down.

  She parried a swing from the two who had come in her direction, concerned more for her friend than for herself.

  A vague uneasiness settled over her.

  The urge to stop and fight had been a moment’s impulse, spurred on by the adrenaline flooding through her veins. There had been nothing to be gained by this fight. Digger’s suggestion of losing the bandits in the trees had been far more sensible.

  Yet he’d followed her without a pause, as he always had. Bittersweet worry churned in her chest. He trusted her too much.

  What had started off as a bit of a lark suddenly seemed more serious.

  She heard Digger swear, his voice strained with pain, distracting her enough that one of the bandits made it past her guard.

  She pulled her sword up enough to deflect, but not enough to prevent the blow connecting with her left arm. Red stained her shirt and she swore.

  She was tired of buying new shirts.

  Disregarding the sting, she continued to hold off the bandits with practised ease, trying to see how Digger was faring.

  The unease grew.

  Digger was flagging, red staining his sword arm, and though he fought on, she couldn’t make out the seriousness of the wound.

  Unlike her, he had no magic to back him up, only his unwavering trust in her. An unwarranted trust, as she hadn’t even considered the risk to him before sauntering into this fight.

  Her mind made up, Elizabeth blocked another blow and called out, “Retreat!”

  But she’d left it moments too late. Even as she called out, one of the bandits slipped past Digger’s guard, his sword slicing through his chestplate. Digger didn’t even make a sound.

  Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat.

  The two bandits gave a cry of triumph and descended on her, blocking her view of Digger.

  How badly injured was he?

  The situation desperate, she pulled out all the stops and used her magic indiscriminately. Instead of trying to score hits, she simply sent a jolt of magic along her sword. Even if they blocked her blow successfully, the magic travelled along their sword, down their arm, and seized their heart.

  Seconds later, two lay in a heap at her feet and the other two were fleeing for their lives through the trees.

  Not even sparing a second glance at the fallen bandits, she ran to where Digger had fallen. His skin was deathly pale, his lips a frightening shade of blue, and the blood spreading across his chest was a death knell.

  Elizabeth’s heart thundered painfully in her chest, making it hard to breathe. This was all her fault. He’d trusted her, and look what she’d done.

  His eyes flicked open for a second, and tried to focus on hers. “Liz…” Her name was a whisper, and she could hear the gurgle in his throat.

  “Shh, just lie still, I’ll fix you up in no time,” she insisted, hoping against hope her magic wouldn’t fail her now. Why had she stopped to fight instead of choosing the sensible option? Would the mistake cost her friend his life?

  She shook her head. No time for recriminations. She needed to focus.

  Laying both hands on his chest, she closed her eyes, letting her senses drift through his body with the flow of blood. It took only seconds to find where the wound had punctured his lung.

  This was going to be painful.

  Mending the tear was simple enough, just needing a small amount of magic to bond the cells back together. Removing the blood from his lung would be much harder.

  She’d done something similar once before, helping an old man with fluid on his lungs. There she’d had time and energy to separate the particles into harmless gases that he coughed out.

  This was more urgent. If the blood wasn’t removed within seconds, Digger would drown.

  Hoping the stress wouldn’t overload his system, she forced the blood up his throat and out.

  Coughs racked his body, but when they eased, a pink tinged his skin and the horrible shade of blue had left his lips. He gasped for air for several moments, his hand clenched around her wrist. He struggled to rise, and she helped him into a sitting position.

  “Give yourself a few minutes.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to protest, but he was beset by another coughing spasm and just nodded obediently.

  Elizabeth used her last remaining magic to search his body, just in case she’d missed anything. She tallied up several cuts, scratches and bruises, but nothing more serious.

  He was breathing easily now, and with her help, got carefully to his feet.

  “Thanks, Liz,” he said quietly, not releasing the grip he had on her arm.

  She shrugged disparagingly, she certainly didn’t deserve thanks for this one. “It was the least I could do after dragging you into this. Next time I suggest fighting when we could run, hit me a couple of times,” she said dryly.

  His colour looked better, she thought objectively, he should be able to make the ride home without any troubles.

  Her heart settled back into its normal rhythm, but try as she might, she couldn’t summon up the feeling of exhilaration that had driven her earlier.

  Digger managed a weak grin. “We’d better get out of here before they wake up, or their friends come looking for them,” he said. “Unless you feel like another show of magic?”

  Elizabeth shook her head definitively. Exhaustion had seeped into every pore in her body, exacerbated by the exodus of adrenaline. Neith
er of those even measured up to the fact that when she reached for her magic, she came up empty.

  “I don’t have any more magic shows left in me right now.”

  She tried to ignore the dry feeling those words left in her mouth. She usually avoided situations that would completely drain her magic. It was always a little unsettling. She wanted to reach for her sword, just to prove that she wasn’t completely defenceless, but she stopped herself. The fight was over, and her magic would return in time. A sleep would rejuvenate it even faster. “Let’s go home.”

  Digger nodded soberly and released her arm to lean against a tree. “Better not linger,” he agreed.

  Elizabeth was glad of the excuse to turn away, walking towards the bushes where the horses were hidden.

  Even more than the depletion of her magic, the thought that she could have lost Digger left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. Elizabeth gave herself a shake. The danger was over. She didn’t need to feel uneasy now.

  To distract herself, she pulled a rag out of her pocket and cleaned the blood off her sword.

  For a brief moment her attention was captured by the blade in her hand. With elaborately scrolled engravings on the blade and an elegantly decorated hilt with a large jewel as its centrepiece, it was more than just a weapon. It was a treasure, a work of art, the sword of an aristocrat.

  She’d seen only one weapon that could match it for its strength and uncanny ability to break swords.

  Memories of the day he had presented it to her flooded her mind. The day he had considered her skills ready to face the world. Since that day, many had coveted it, some had even tried to take it off her, but none had succeeded.

  Occasionally she wondered why she didn’t swap it for an equally usable, but less memory-laden piece, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to give it up.

  Whether it was a self-imposed punishment for her mistakes, or simply a reluctance to relinquish one of the few things that reminded her of her connection to him, she wasn’t sure. But the sword never left her side, even when she slept.

  She reached out for Rianna’s reins and banished the thoughts. Reminiscing was a pastime she didn’t usually indulge in, and now certainly wasn’t the time.