Victim of Fate by Jason Halstead Read Free Book Online Page A

answer it.
Maybe that's what he was looking for, her to answer one of his
questions that justified his cruelties and his existence. Maybe if
she did, he'd accept her. Or he'd punish her. Rosalyn shivered in
spite of herself. She hadn't been punished since she'd forgotten to
address him properly. She didn't want to ruin the streak.
    "No? Pity. Perhaps you'll realize otherwise
soon," Therion said. He turned away. "I must tend to some affairs.
Enjoy the show. I'll want to know if I miss anything exciting."
    She stared at him as he walked away, wishing
she knew just enough magic to send a dagger into his spine with her
eyes. Maybe being a witch wouldn't be such a bad thing after
all.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 6
     
    "That peasant might have been better at
counting than we thought," Tristam grumbled. He wiped the wasp gore
off his sword and sheathed it. This was the fourth wasp that had
attacked them as they followed the stream to the west, where it
flowed through the forest the villagers feared so much. To their
credit, each of the wasps had been headed east, towards them.
    "Evan," Alto said. "His name was Evan."
    "What?" Tristam asked, turning to glance at
him.
    "That's his name, Evan."
    "I don't care," he pointed out.
    Alto furrowed his brow at the gruff
attitude.
    "He's worried," Kar offered in a hushed voice
to the young warrior.
    "No, you're right," Tristam said. "Details
such as that will endear you to people. It spreads goodwill and
good word for us. Out here it doesn't much matter; they're little
better than the crops they tend. Their gold will feed us as well as
those same crops will."
    Alto scowled. "Why not just kill them and
steal their goods?" All of the others turned to look at him in
surprise in spite of his sarcastic tone.
    "A good question," Tristam admitted. "First,
if you were like that I wouldn't have you as one of my men. Second,
it does us no good to butcher the innocent. I'll take the chance of
being paid time and again versus a single purse any time. Then
there's the reputation and the threat of having a price on our
heads. No, lad, we play the role of the good guys. It's both the
safe and the smart way to get by."
    "I don't suppose these demonic wasps care
much whether we're good or bad," Namitus muttered. He pointed with
his good arm into the sky to the west. "Here comes another
one."
    Tristam cursed and drew his sword. "We're
making no progress with these damned wasps and the way this stream
winds back and forth. Can't you do something, wizard?"
    "Smoke!" Alto said.
    "Where?" Tristam spoke but they all turned
and looked about.
    "No, I mean I remember my father using smoke
to pacify a bee's nest so he could move it away from our barn one
year."
    "You're going to need to burn the entire
forest," Namitus quipped.
    "Following this river does us no good. The
hills are low but there are too many; we can't see very far," Kar
mused. "Let's deal with this and climb a hill to see the lay of the
land."
    Alto hopped off Sebas and readied his bow.
The wasp had seen them and was closing fast. He drew back and let
the arrow fly, missing the body but tearing through one of its
wings. The wasp spiraled to the ground and thrashed about.
    "Fascinating," Kar observed. "Think about it:
a normal wasp can fall quite a distance and not be harmed. These
large variants fall harder and don't recover as well. I wonder why
that is?"
    "I don't care why it is!" Tristam snapped. "I
just want them dead. Alto's the only one with a bow and they're no
easy target to hit."
    "Only took me one arrow," Alto boasted.
    "And now you're down an arrow. You've only
got so many and we've not seen the end of these bugs."
    Alto frowned. His mentor had a good
point.
    "Come, up the hill," Kar said. He turned his
horse and guided it up the grade of the hill. They'd already
followed the winding stream around several of the rolling swells.
The difficult terrain explained why no farms or houses were built
near the stream.
    "By the saints," Tristam muttered