The Sorceror's Revenge by Linda Sole Read Free Book Online

then, for he was too proud and arrogant to be a humble peddler.
                  ‘Who are you?’ she asked raising her head to look at him.  ‘Why have you burst into our home like this?’
                  ‘I am the Earl Devereaux,’ the man with the angry eyes told her.  ‘You are my wife.  Melloria, the Countess Devereaux – and I have come to take you back.  This rogue stole you and kept you hidden, but I have found you at last.’
                  ‘No.’ Anne cried.  ‘You are wrong.  Nicholas saved my life.  He is my true husband…’
                  ‘He has enchanted your mind, caused you to forget me and the love we shared.’  The man approached her, reaching out to take hold of her arm.  ‘When you are back where you belong you will forget him.’
                  ‘Mother…’ Anne heard her child’s cry.  ‘Papa…’
                  ‘What are you doing to her?’ she cried.  ‘Iolanthe…’
                  ‘My daughter is safe enough.  We have her.  Come with me now, Melloria.’
                  Anne stared at him as he held out his hand so imperiously.  A shiver of terror ran through her and she was seized by a premonition of impending doom.
                  ‘No. I shall not go with you. I belong here with…’ She screamed as the man grabbed hold of her arm and started to drag her.  ‘Leave me here and let my child go.  I am not who you think me.  Nicholas is my…’
    She screamed again and Nicholas sprang towards them, grappling with the man who frightened her so much.  Even as he tried to tear her from the earl’s grasp of iron, someone struck him a vicious blow to the head with a mace and he fell to the ground at her feet, blood seeping from his wound.  She could see his eyes open and staring at her and she knew that he was dead.  ‘Nicholas…I love you.  Nicholas, my love…do not die…do not leave me.  You promised me…’
                  Crying, screaming and calling Nicholas’s name over and over again, Anne was dragged and then carried from the chamber, which had become home to her.  As they went out into the courtyard, she saw men lying on the ground wounded and dying.  One of her serving women was dead, her stomach split open by a sword thrust, and another was weeping over her.  She held out her hands in supplication, begging her mistress to help, but there was nothing Anne could do.
                  Turning to the hard-faced man who claimed to be her husband, she raised tearful eyes to his.  ‘Please do not harm any more of my servants.  If they resisted you, they thought only to protect us.’
                  ‘We have finished here.  No more harm will come to them.’  He turned to his men and ordered them to mount up.  ‘I am taking you to your sister.  You may rest there until you recover yourself, Melloria. I am not a harsh man and I shall not demand your obedience too soon.  I want you to come to me of your own will.’
                  ‘I am not Melloria.  I am Anne and you have killed my husband.’
                  ‘He was an evil man, a sorcerer that put a spell on you.  You are my wife and you loved me once.  You will love me again when your mind is your own once more.’
                  ‘It is not true,’ Anne wept, her heart breaking as the tears trickled down her cheeks.  She did not like this cold hard man.  He had killed Nicholas.  Her husband had never harmed anyone despite what people said of him, and she did not believe that he had put a spell on her to make her lose her memory.  ‘I hate you for what you have done this day, sir.  I shall never forgive you.’
                  ‘Never is a long time, Melloria.  You are mine and I shall have you.’  His eyes bored into hers, icy cold and yielding nothing as he