The seer and the sword pdf download

When he prodded her with a sword, she never moved. Kareed had stopped to pry the shining thing from her dead hand, and slipped it into his pouch for Torina.

How had this old woman known he had a red-haired daughter? But then, he was a red-haired man. My son! The pain possessed his soul again. He had seen the tiny, waxy-blue, perfectly formed infant who would never draw breath.

If I rode slowly, would you have lived? He was sure Dreea would have no more children. Yet he could not bear to put aside his beloved wife for a younger, fertile woman. The commander quickly returned. Before him walked the former prince of Bellandra. Dark, curling hair matted round his face; his features, under bruises and scrapes, looked still as driftwood. Dust and dirt had obliterated the elegant lines of his clothes. His legs, just beginning to lengthen towards manhood, were unsteady; his arms tied behind his back.

Vesputo thrust the young prisoner forward. The boy stumbled and fell. Torina sprang to help him. And the son of a king no more. I brought him here for you, Torina. He will make a fine slave. No matter that none of your other servants are slaves. This is different.

This will crown the defeat of Bellandra. The commander looked to his king, who inclined his head. A blade was drawn. Vesputo severed the ropes carelessly, trailing fresh blood. Landen rubbed his wrists as Torina stepped closer to him.

For her, they must have been forgotten. Landen looked at the ground. A pulse in his neck beat, like the heart of a new-hatched bird. I set him free. When Vesputo suggested making Landen a slave, it was to demean the spirit of Bellandra.

King Veldon had strutted for too long behind his magic Sword, looking down his nose at warrior kings. That would give everyone pause. Now, she threw in his teeth this gift so dearly won.

For a century, no one had dared attack Bellandra, but he, Kareed, had done it. The king felt the familiar battle rage rising. Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book. Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip.

Video Audio icon An illustration of an audio speaker. Audio Software icon An illustration of a 3. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs. Internet Archive's 25th Anniversary Logo. Search icon An illustration of a magnifying glass. User icon An illustration of a person's head and chest.

Sign up Log in. Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book. Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip. Video Audio icon An illustration of an audio speaker. Audio Software icon An illustration of a 3. They rode slowly, her horse trotting near. Beaming, the king leaned into his saddlebag and brought out a fist. He put a crystal sphere in her palm. Her fingers barely fitted round it.

Torina held it up to the embers of the sun. Inside the crystal, light swam and brightened; a world of gold. Moments alone with the king, without soldiers or petitioners or servants, were few. Hooves pounded towards them from the direction of the castle. It was the guard who had hustled Zeon out.

He galloped up. From the horsemen following, a rider detached and sped forward. Dark moustache and heavy eyebrows marked a handsome face. Not even looking at her, the king galloped away with the guard, their horses veiled in dust on the darkening plain. Torina stared at the crystal, rotating it in her hand. She brought it close to her face, then gasped as the dimming light congealed in its middle and began to form a face. White, exhausted, laying on a pillow.

Another face bent over her, a woman. Torina was somehow sure the woman was a midwife. Home English Online.

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