Sword and the Spell 01: The Grey Robe by Clare Smith Read Free Book Online

thin and vulnerable and had felt so much
pain and fear in his few years of life that he couldn’t help feeling pity for
him. He knew what it was like to be alone but he had always had the love of the
goddess and his magic to protect him, even as a small child. This one had no
one to protect him from the horrors of the kingsward compound where he had
planned to return him. If he left him there alone he would more than likely die
of starvation or end up the property of some fat merchant which would be even
worse. The simple solution would be to arrange for the boy to be passed to
another for training, someone who would be too scared of his retribution to carry
out their duty with the Stablemaster’s harsh hand.
    Satisfied with his decision he collected the horse
blanket from his pile of belongings and placed it at the far side of the fire by
the boy and then carefully rolled him over and laid him on the blanket. The boy’s
weight was nothing and his exhaustion so deep that he failed to stir, even when
Maladran placed the depleted sack of oats under the boy’s head and his own
cloak over his thin body. The night was cold but he wouldn’t miss his cloak
that much. With the good supply of wood the boy had gathered it would be easy to
keep a natural fire burning and later he had work to do which would provide its
own heat. He picked up the dishes and cooking pot and rinsed them in the
stream. There was no sign of the sly hunters returning so he pulled up some
flour roots which always grew near fresh running water and buried them in the
ashes at the edge of the fire for tomorrow’s breakfast. Listening to the boy’s
gentle breathing he waited for the moon to rise above the trees.
    For most of the day he had been in a deep trance
cutting off the world around him and finding the peace which often eluded him
in the rare moments he slept. In his tranced state there was no one to make
demands of him, his power was quiescent and the dark side of his nature, which
became more dominant as his powers grew, was stilled. The escape had refreshed
his mind and had let him forget the price that he had paid so he could wear the
demon-engraved torc. The trance had renewed his powers but it had robbed him of
a day of living. In a trance he could not hear the birds sing, or see the green
leaves outlined against the sky or feel the touch of the cool wind on his skin.
He could not taste the sweetness of cold spring water or smell the fragrance of
the fresh grass, crushed beneath his horse’s hooves. In fact he might as well
have been dead.
    However the respite had been necessary even if it was
only to clear his mind of the smell of burning flesh that he had left behind in
High Lord Coledran’s Grand Hall. It had been an unpleasant way for his son to
die but necessary. He had also needed to regain his strength to resist the
demands of the powerful artefact he wore which whispered to him to abandon his
humanity in exchange for its power. The increased frequency with which he
needed to escape into a trance worried him as it became harder to completely
quell the torc’s seduction. He touched the metal band and wondered how its
previous owner had come to master the demon within and what words of wisdom he
would have for his student now. They were likely to be harsh words considering
he had murdered the old man.
    The light of the full moon slanting between the trees cut
through his sombre thoughts and he looked to see if it was high enough in the
sky to start his night’s work. He sighed knowing that tomorrow he would
probably need to go into his tranced state again but he put the thought out of
his mind as he began to concentrate on the task ahead of him. Scrying had never
been one of his better skills, particularly an undetected scrying of a residue
image but it had to be done that way or the subject’s interfering and doddering
old guardians would detect his presence and might even attempt to block his
sight. With his plans for the future that