Wood Nymph and the Cranky Saint- Wizard of Yurt - 2 by C. Dale Brittain & Brittain

Author:C. Dale Brittain & Brittain [Brittain, C. Dale & Brittain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy Fiction; American, Science Fiction, General, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780671721565
Google: bzgOAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0671721569
Publisher: Baen
Published: 1993-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“But how could he support himself and his new wife?”

“I don’t imagine he’s thought that far,” she said with a shrug.

This might answer some of my questions about the regent, but it stil left the duchess’ oehavior inexplicable. She outranked me far too thoroughly for me to force her to tel me anything; al I could do was make her angry enough that she’d keep talking. “But how about Nimrod? You’ve been encouraging him, my lady, encouraging him as blatantly as any vilage flirt. When he finds out that you had no real interest in him, that you were only using him to provoke the regent, isn t his reaction going to be highly scandalous itself?” The duchess’ frown cleared unexpectedly at what I had thought was my worst accusation. But before I could react, I caught a sudden hint of something moving.

“The great horned rabbit!” Evrard shouted to us.

We rode quickly to where a net, almost invisible under some bushes, thrashed wildly. Nimrod, wearing enormous gloves, reached into the brush and puled the net out.

Struggling against the cords was a real rabbit.

Nimrod laughed and freed it carefuly. But as it flashed away, the duchess turned to Evrard with a look of irritation. “So your magic couldn’t tel you the difference between a magical creature and an ordinary one? I’l tel you what. We’re in a hurry so why don t you try a wizardly caling spel to bring the great horned rabbit into our nets?’

Evrard flushed deeply but started at once on a spel. It wasn’t one I recognized; I wondered if it might be something else he had learned in Elerius’s course.

The chirping of birds, which had been a constant background sound, was suddenly intensified. A flock of sparrows congregated from al over the valey and settled, with madly flapping wings and incessant chirps, on Evrard’s head and arms. ‘ Been taking some tips from the wood nymph?” I said sarcasticaly. Even / had never attracted sparrows by mistake. Evrard disappeared under a wave of brown feathers.

Laughing over the birds’ voices, he said the words to end his spel. No longer drawn by magic, the sparrows hesitated, then shot off. Evrard reemerged into view and tried to brush off his sleeves. “But it should have worked—” he began, then stopped short.

Something was thrashing in the nets a little further down, something highly charged with magic, yet not alive.

A cry came, a cry that could have been an owl and could have been a soul in torment. It was no less bone-chiling because I knew what it was. My normaly calm mare reared, setting al the bridle bels ringing and even Diana was, for a moment, hard-pressed to stay on her gelding. I kicked my feet out of the stirrups, dropped the reins and flew forward.

Nimrod was there before me. The netted creature’s

tiny red eyes stared from beneath its sharp horns in what looked like living hate and long fangs snapped at him. I dropped to the ground and threw a binding spel onto the horned rabbit.

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