Free An Empire Unacquainted With Defeat by Glen Cook Page A

westward. The man in black rose and started walking. His fingers led him on.
    He went slowly, sensing his quarry's trail. It was cold. Occasionally he lost it and had to circle till he caught it again.
    The sun scaled the sky. Kai Ling kept walking. A gentle, anticipatory smile played behind his mask.
    The feel of the man was getting stronger. He was getting close. It was almost done. In a few hours he would be home. The Tervola would be determining the extent of his reward.
    He crossed a low hilltop and paused.
    A shepherd's stead lay below. He reached out . . . .
    One man, injured, lay within the crude sod house. A second life-spark lurked in the grove surrounding the nearby spring.
    And there were six riders coming in from the southwest.
    One seized his attention. She coruscated with a stench of wild, untrained Power.
    "Lords of Darkness," Kai Ling whispered. "She's almost as strong as the Demon Princess." He crouched, becoming virtually invisible in a patch of gorse.
    Five of the riders dismounted. They heaped kindling round the timbers of a partially finished house.
    A man staggered from the sod structure. "Shirl!" he screamed. "For god's sake . . . ."
    A raider tripped him, slipped a knife into his back as he wriggled on the earth.
    Kai Ling stirred slightly as two blasts of emotion exploded below.
    A child burst from the grove, shrieking, running toward the killer. And the wild witch lashed the man with a whip. He screamed louder than the boy.
    Kai Ling reeled back from the raw surge. She was as strong as the Prince's daughter. But extremely young and undisciplined.
    He stood.
    The tableau froze.
    The boy thought quickest. He paused only a second, then whirled and raced away.
    The others regarded Kai Ling for half a minute. Then the witch turned her mount toward him. He felt the uncertainty growing within her.
    Kai Ling let his Aspirant's senses roam the stead. The barn stood out. That was his man's living place. But he was gone.
    Faceted rubies tracked the fleeing boy. Lips smiled behind gold. "Bring him to me, child," he whispered.
    The raiders formed a line shielding the woman. Swords appeared. Kai Ling glanced at the boy. He waited.
    She felt him now, he knew. She knew there had been sorcery in the Zemstvi. She would be wondering . . . .
    A raider wheeled suddenly. Kai Ling could imagine his words.
    He had been recognized.
    He folded his arms.
    What would she try?
    The fire gnawed at the new house. Smoke billowed up. Kai Ling glanced westward. The child had disappeared.
    The witch's right arm thrust his way. Pale fire sparkled amongst her fingertips.
    He murmured into his mask, readying his defenses.
    She was a wild witch. Untrained. She had only intuitive control of the Power. Her emotions would affect what little control she had. He remained unworried despite her strength.
    Kai Ling underestimated the size of the channel fear could open in her. She hit him with a blast that nearly melted his protection.
    He fell to his knees.
    He forced his hands together.
    Thunder rolled across the Zemstvi. The timbers of the burning house leapt into the air, tumbled down like a lazy rain of torches. The sod house twisted, collapsed. The barn canted dangerously. The cow inside bawled.
    The witch toppled from her horse, screaming, clawing her ears. She thrashed and wailed till a raider smacked her unconscious.
    The Caydarmen looked uphill. Kai Ling, though unconscious, remained upon his knees. Golden fire burned where his face belonged. They tossed the witch aboard her horse, fled.
    Kai Ling eventually fell forward into the gorse, vanishing.
    Then only the flames moved on the Kleckla stead, casting dancing color onto the man whose dreams were dying with him.
     
XVIII
    Tain pushed the roan. He met Steban more than a mile from the Tower. The boy was exhausted, but his arms and legs kept pumping.
    "Tain!" he called. "Tain, they killed Pa." He spoke in little bursts, between lung-searing gasps.
    "You go on to your mother.