From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [103]
Averella squirmed off his lap and onto the wood floor of the wagon. Her heart was still beating so fast that it thudded in her ears. “I am fine, Master Poe. I—” She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts. “I had not experienced a vision of Darkness yet. It surprised me. I believed we were being attacked by a water beast.”
Harnu pushed to his feet and climbed back onto the driver’s seat. “Choose a song we all know, Noam.”
Averella shivered, her heart still beating faster than normal. “What songs do you know, Master Poe?”
He grunted. “I rarely went to the Corner.”
“Look! Lights!” Gren pointed to the right where a dozen torchlights glittered to the southwest. “Let’s see who it is.”
“No,” Averella said. “We should steer clear. If they are unfriendly, we would not know until it was too late to flee.”
“But what if they are friendly?” Gren asked.
“We cannot take that risk. We should stay on the road. The road we can trust.”
“Whatever you say, my lady,” Noam said.
Averella slouched against the side of the wagon. What did she know about anything? Why should she be in charge? She could be wrong about the lights. Maybe they were friendly people. People who could help them free Bran.
More bizarre thoughts assailed Averella throughout the day—or was it night?—but she was able to stop them before they went too far. She lay down in the back of the wagon, eyes drooping heavily. She should message Mother and inquire as to what would happen when she fell asleep. But before she could form the connection, her mind drifted.
Pain shot through her skull. She cowered in a briarberry bush, clutching her temples. The soldier was close, debilitating her with the pressure of his untamed bloodvoice.
She concentrated on closing her mind, something she had never needed to do simply to keep from experiencing pain. The pressure eased some, and she crawled to the top of the ridge and peeked over.
Shrouded in fog, a Kingsguard soldier fought two Poroo in a small clearing, his movements quick but careful.
She had been right. The gifted one was a soldier. Younger than she had expected, but no mere boy. He was tall, strong, and wounded. Plum bruises covered his handsome face. His dark, wet hair and soggy Kingsguard cape whipped about as he swung his sword. Studded jewels on the ivory crossguard caught her eye. He must be a noble to wield such a weapon, yet she had never seen him at court.
Movement to the far left turned her head. Prince Gidon! The heir to the throne of Er’Rets leaned against an allown tree, watching the soldier fight.
Where were his distinguished guards? The mighty Shield? And why was His Highness just standing there? He was quite gifted with the sword, or so his reputation said. He could be helping the soldier fight off the Poroo.
She snorted. Our new and noble, lazy king.
A third Poroo charged up behind the soldier.
Look out! She yelled to his mind.
Scratch? The soldier spun around just in time to parry the jab of a spear. He scurried back in the pine needles, holding his sword up to his attackers. “If you’re not going to help, Your Highness,” the soldier said to the prince, “at least climb the tree. I’d hate for you to be killed. Your death would secure my own.”
Her brows shot up at his snide tone. Prince Gidon only smirked. One of the Poroo charged. The soldier waited until the last moment before dodging and swinging his blade into the creature’s side. The soldier stiffened and the Poroo fell at his feet.
She felt his horror of having killed. He swallowed and exhaled before wrenching his blade free with a growl. His grey eyes flashed to the other two Poroo. He steeled himself and stepped forward.
He could do this.
Averella awoke, chilled by the sweat soaking her skin. She sat up, simply breathing until her heart fell into a steady rhythm. Dreams of Darkness felt so real, yet she had a feeling this last one had been more than a dream. A memory. Of how she came to meet the man known as Achan Cham. He had served