Page 10 of The Healer and the Warlord

I grasped on to the threads of my original plan, even as they slipped through my fingers. “I’m a healer,” I insisted. “If you bring me to your clan’s encampment, surely there are some people there I can help.”

“Oh, we will take you back to our Clan Lord,” the one holding me promised. “He’ll decide on the best use for your talents.”

I tried to pull my arm out of his hold again to no avail. “If this is how your Clan Lord allows his riders to behave, then Clan Tibel does not deserve the desert’s favor.”

I finally succeeded in wrenching my arm from the man’s hold, only for my struggling to overbalance me. I tripped over the rope around my ankles and stumbled into another’s horse. I slammed into the solid wall of muscle that was the animal’s flank, dazed enough that I didn’t notice the third rider had stepped up behind me, boxing me in

He leaned down from his horse, grabbing me by the hair hard enough to make my eyes water. My shriek of pain was cut off by his hand clamping over my mouth.

“If you are going to insult us, maybe we won’t bring you back to our Lord at all,” he sneered in my ear.

A displeased whinny sounded from by the fire, Dileas clearly unhappy with my distress.

“Let’s get her out of here before whoever left her comes back,” the leader of the trio instructed.

As the man holding me dragged me backward, my heart fluttered against my rib cage in fear and even more potent… anger. My eyes burned and a trapped scream filled my throat. My efforts to prove that I could take care of myself had backfired in the worst possible way. These horrid men were proving my father right, and the thought made fury flare within me. I kicked and struggled, my vision blurring with unshed tears, as the man seated on the horse before me laughed at my antics.

The laugh cut off in a horrible gurgle. Crimson splattered over his horse’s neck, and I blinked the wetness from my eyes in surprise. A wicked slash cut across his throat. His eyes were wide with shock, even as blood bubbled from his lips.

His mount screamed in panic, rearing and bucking. The rider, already a corpse, slipped from his back and fell to the ground with a lifeless thump. Now riderless, the horse bolted, running off into the sands.

“Take your filthy hands off her, or I will cut them off,” a voice came from one side. It was familiar, but the icy cold tone was not like anything I had ever heard before.

I turned my head as best as I could while still trapped, my scalp burning with the strain. Kelvar stood with his hand outstretched, sparks dancing around his fingertips. He hadn’t even needed a weapon to kill that man—just the magic he wielded was enough.

My captor didn’t let go, but he backed his mount up a few steps, dragging me with him, even as a metallic ringing indicating he had drawn his saber. The point came to rest at my collarbone.

The last rider drew his sword too, seemingly the bravest of the lot, as he pointed it at Kelvar. Relief and fear flowed through me in equal measure at his appearance and the promise of violence he brought with him.

Kelvar’s gaze was even sharper than the sword he drew from across his own back—a sword with curved quillons and a blade longer than any I had seen before. It might have been almost comically large if not for the deadly confidence with which he held it.

The remaining two horses whickered and pawed the ground nervously as Kelvar faced off against my two captors, and a bolt of their distress penetrated my skull. I blinked.

My magic was not good for destruction but had an affinity for one other thing besides healing—horses. With all three men distracted by their swords, I closed my eyes, gently unfurling a tendril of magic toward each horse’s mind.

I ignored the feel of Dileas, still hovering nearby, and instead reached into the consciousness of the two other mounts. I offered a mental apology for what I was about to do. Then, I injected them with a bolt of borrowed fear—the way my heart had hammered when the first man grabbed me and the dread I felt at knowing I wouldn’t be able to escape.

The effect was instantaneous. Screams of fright split the air, and the horse at my back began to buck and prance. The hand disappeared from my hair, as the rider was forced to grab on to his mount or risk being thrown from his seat.

The other horse reacted similarly, bolting off into the sands despite his rider’s attempts to control him. I stumbled forward, falling to my knees out of the way, as the third rider was carried away by his frightened and uncooperative horse, yelling and swearing in surprise.

As I blinked the dust their sudden flight had kicked up from my eyes, I looked up to see Kelvar, whose expression of stony rage had melted into one of surprised confusion. As our gazes met, though, his expression fell into one of concern.

In one motion, he had sheathed his sword and fallen to his knees before me.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, reaching out toward me, then hesitating. “Did they… did any of them…”

He trailed off, rage beginning to bubble in his eyes as his gaze skated over my ruffled appearance. I shook my head quickly.

“It was just a very unpleasant conversation,” I admitted. “When you distracted them, I convinced their mounts that it was time for that conversation to be over.”

He blinked at me in surprise, and then a tiny smile toyed at his lips, although his eyes still held the smoldering embers of anger. The expression made something in my chest twitch, not altogether unpleasantly, but I shoved it away.

“And here I thought they fled because I was just that terrifying,” he said.

I huffed. “Maybe you only like to think you are so fearsome.”

Even as I said it though, my gaze was drawn to the slumped corpse off to one side, just at the edge of my vision. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end as the horrible gurgle he had made replayed in my mind. Kelvar had killed him with just a wave of his hand—without even drawing his weapon.