Holmberg, D K - The Lost Prophecy 01 - The Threat of Madness by Holmberg D K

Author:Holmberg, D K [Holmberg, D K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BA
Publisher: ASH Publishing
Published: 2017-01-03T00:00:00+00:00

Brohmin looked north one last time before turning his horse south again. His shirt was soiled with a day’s worth of old blood. He clutched his wounded shoulder close. His arm ached. At least the horses were unwounded. It was a blessing they weren’t.

The ride north had been harsh. After the encounter with the groeliin in the forest, they had reached the lower hills without further incident. Salindra had looked at him differently, though. She had not pressed him, but he knew she had questions for him. They were questions he would not answer. Could not answer.

Once up in the mountains, they had a different experience. They hadn’t climbed very high before the first attack began. At first, he fought solely with his sword but quickly grew tired. Salindra helped as much as she could. She was able to see the beasts at least. That was better than most, he knew. The extra eyes had helped him more than he thought it would. She just was not a fighter. None of her people were.

He laughed to himself about it. He could afford to now.

As they climbed higher, the attacks became more frequent. Each day, he resisted the urge to turn back. Salindra never asked. That surprised him. When his strength had gone, he was forced to rely on his other talents. The strain of that effort wore on him quickly. At the end of those days, Salindra looked at him much differently. He would still not answer her questions.

She grew weaker too. He could feel the toll the branding about her ankles was taking on her. Could feel her strength leaving her even if he could not see it. Several times, he had tried healing her even more than he had, but was unsuccessful. The brandings were beyond him.

His stomach roiled with the thought. Just the notion of the brandings scared him.

Her weakness had hurt them. Between healing her and fighting off the groeliin, he had suffered. The mission was important. He had traveled north to learn how much time they had left to report to the Conclave. The sheer number of the beasts he’d encountered told him all the answers he needed. Not much time.

They traveled south now. Though his own mission had taken him north, searching for more evidence of the groeliin, a mission of another of the Conclave brought him south again. Word had come to him in a dream from the goddess, as it often did, forcing them south. And Salindra along, hoping for more than he could offer.

He looked over to her again. She was slumped in her saddle, her dark hair falling into her face. He looked at the sharp angle of her jaw, her dirty hair covering it, and smiled. She was good company. Better than he had expected.

The horses stopped to drink at a stream. He took the chance to do the same, uncorking his water skin and taking a long drink. It was cool and tasted of copper. Much like his homeland.

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