Gail Martin - The summoner

The winter wind whipped their hair and stung their faces as they rode for the arched stone bridge. Their horses thundered across the roadway, over the dark, icy waters of the Nu River. Though they left behind both pursuers and protectors at the bridge, none of the companions slowed until the crossing was well behind them. Dawn was breaking as Vahanian, still leading, finally reined in his foam-flecked mount. The others nudged their exhausted horses to catch up. Vahanian rose in his stirrups and counted heads. "Everyone's here," he said, fatigue clear in his voice. "Let's find somewhere to sleep."

The sharp staccato of quarrels hitting the ground rang out in the morning air. A line of arrows, launched at close range by crossbows, cut across the road in front of them. From out of the bushes, soldiers in the livery of the Principality army stepped into view. "Drop your weapons," their captain grated. By reflex, Vahanian reached for his sword, and cried out as a quarrel clipped his shoulder.

"The next shot finds your heart," the soldier warned. "Drop your weapons."

With a curse, Vahanian dropped his sword. Tris and the others exchanged worried glances, but did the same as more soldiers ringed them, crossbows raised and notched. Two soldiers came forward and gathered up their weapons.

"We have urgent business," Tris said, hoping he looked better than he felt. It was taking all of his concentration just to stay in the saddle, and he felt feverish. He felt suddenly worse as Mageslayer fell from his grasp. His power still seemed out of reach, and it left a wrenching void that made him feel physically ill.

"I'll bet you do," the captain chuckled. "The king put a watch for a group with two swordsmen, a bard and a healer," he said with a nod toward Carina's green belt and the lute-shaped sack on Carroway's pack. "You can tell your urgent business to the general."

They rode for a candlemark in silence, ringed by armed soldiers. The gash on Tris's thigh burned, and he had begun to shake. Once, he saw Carina watching him worriedly. The soldiers led them to a small fort a few hours' ride from Gibbet Bridge. The captain motioned for them to dismount, and Tris fell rather than swung down from his horse, but managed to keep his feet.

"You'll wait here, until the general returns," the captain said, leading them to a large, sparsely furnished cell. Four soldiers with crossbows kept their weapons trained on the group until the door was secured, and two more remained on guard as the captain left.

Tris leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, as Carina rushed to his side. "What happened? Are you hit?" she said, and Tris wondered if he were as pale as he felt.

"Something's wrong," he murmured. "The magic… is out of reach."

"What does he mean by that?" Vahanian whispered, as Carina found the gash on Tris's leg. She frowned, and pressed one finger against the wound, then lifted it to her nose.

"Wormroot," she said, and looked through die pouches on her belt that the soldiers had permitted her to keep. "The arrow tips were poisoned."

"Wormroot?" Vahanian questioned. "It doesn't grow anywhere near here. And besides, at worst it causes a stomach ache-"

"That's because you're not a mage," Carina replied in a low voice. "I heard stories when Cam and I were with the mercenaries, here in Principality. They said to stop a mage, use worm-root. In large enough doses, over a long period, they say it will kill or drive a mage mad."

"Can you help him?" Carroway said anxiously. Royster kept watch for the guards, who stood at their posts, paying their captives no heed.

"I'll try," she replied. "But I never heard what the antidote was for wormroot, except that it should wear off over time. I'll start with rope vine," she said, digging in her pouch. "It helps with some of the poisons that fog the mind. The wound wasn't deep, so he can't have gotten much."

"He seemed to get worse when we were captured," Kiara mused. "In fact, he nearly fell when they made us drop our swords."

"Could Mageslayer have been absorbing some of the effect?" Carroway asked.

"It's quite possible," Royster said quietly. "Such powers are not uncommon for spelled objects, and it would be a handy thing for a mage's weapon to possess."

Carina rolled Tris over onto his back and ripped his pant leg wider to expose the injury.

Taking the hem of her cloak, she cleaned the wound the best she could, and made a paste of dried leaves from her pouch with the stale water Carroway fetched from a bucket in the corner. Within half a candlemark, the burning pain had stopped, and Tris felt the shaking cease.

"Thank you," he murmured to Carina, who was tending the gash on Vahanian's shoulder.

"Glad you're feeling better," Vahanian whispered in a low rasp. "Now, how do we get out of here?"

"Don't you think it's odd that the army was practically waiting for us on the other side of the bridge?" Carroway said. "Do you think the general is in cahoots with Jared? Think about it," the bard said tightly. "On the other side of the bridge, by night, at least we had the vayash moru and Argus. We lost both those defenses come dawn, as soon as we crossed the bridge. And that's when the army happened to be waiting for us." They exchanged worried glances as they considered the bard's scenario.

"But King Staden is a good king!" Berry protested. "At least, that's what everyone says," she added when they looked at her.

"Staden might not have anything to do with it," Vahanian replied, wincing as Carina worked on his shoulder. "Once this general gets us to the city, what he does with us is anyone's guess. Orders are easy enough to fake."

Kiara was on watch near the high slit that was the cell's only window. "Uh oh," she said. "Looks like the general has arrived."

Tris pulled himself into a sitting position and hoped he looked better than he felt. The Principality captain strode in, leading the way for a dark-haired man in a cloak. "These are the foreigners we arrested, general," the captain said as he stepped aside to give the general a look through the bars. "Came across Gibbet Bridge like the demon herself was after them. There are a couple extra, but four of them fit the bill."

Tris heard Carina gasp. Kiara glanced at her cousin, who had gone quite pale and stepped toward the back.

Kiara stepped forward. "Sirs," she said, making a perfunctory bow. "My companions and I were beset by highwaymen, which accounted for our haste last night. Two of my party are injured. We were traveling on business to Principality City. We have harmed no one. Please, let us be on our way."

The general looked them over. He was of medium build, with dark brown hair and intelligent eyes. But for the hard set to his mouth and a tightness around his blue eyes, he might have been considered handsome. That he was likely no older than Vahanian and held the rank of general spoke to his competence, and Tris guessed by his manner that he was accomplished with the sword that hung at his belt.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, m'lady. I have my orders from the king. What he seeks with you, I do not know, nor do I care. We will leave within a candlemark for the city. You can make your case there."

He was about to go when Carina stepped forward. "Gregor," she called softly.

The general turned, and his eyes widened when he saw the healer, as if he had seen a ghost.

"You?" the general breathed. "But I saw you die… with Ric… what magic is this?"

Carina bowed her head and stepped closer to the bars. "No trick, Gregor. Cam took me to the Sisters. They brought me back, from the very arms of the Lady."

Gregor's face hardened. "More than you could do for my brother."

Carina flushed. "Please Gregor, listen to me. Our mission is urgent. Please, let us go."

"I have my orders."