Free Accidental Sorceress (Hardstorm Saga Book 2) by Dana Marton Page B

turned to the old man again. “I shall come back this way. When I come to Rabeen again, she better not be here. When I reach Karamur, she better be there waiting, or I will come to find you.”
    The old man nodded rapidly. “There are two merchant ships in port right now, my lord. I will put her on the one that leaves first for Dahru. I will even send one of my servant women with her to make sure she arrives safely to the palace.” He grabbed the girl and dragged her along, realizing now that Batumar might be a man of some power.
    She was smiling back at us as she stumbled after her grandfather. She might fear being sent to a distant land, but she feared more the blacksmith’s fire. I hid my pain and smiled back at her. I prayed to the spirits to let us see her again.
    A few stalls behind her, Pek stood by a pile of sugarcane, watching us with open curiosity on his face.
    As the crowd dispersed, Batumar lifted me into his arms and carried me through the rest of the market, all the way to our ship and into our cabin. Even being carried hurt.
    He settled me down gently on his fur cloak, then covered me with the camel-hair blanket. Every muscle in his body was stiff with anger. “You should not weaken yourself like this.”
    “I do not like the market of Rabeen.” I gasped out the words.
    His large hands brushed the hair back from my face, frustration and concern in his gaze. “How long will you suffer?”
    “Not long,” I promised.
    His chest rose, his displeasure all over his face.
    “I am a healer,” I reminded him.
    “I like it best when you are locked up in my Pleasure Hall.” He climbed onto our platform next to me. “Nay. I like it best when you are in my arms,” he corrected.
    Soon we heard the rattle of the great chain as the sailors raised anchor; then we sailed around the small island to drop anchor again so the tiger could be loaded. Batumar opened the porthole so I could look out and so that fresh air could come in.
    The cage waited at the end of the dock. The tiger was still lying down, although she growled as the men lifted her. I sent my spirit song to her to make her transfer easier. I did not wish for her to be dropped into the sea while locked in the cage.
    After the tiger had been loaded, the servants carrying her returned to shore and quickly returned with a dozen black-and-white goats before leaving the ship for good.
    Then I caught sight of a man nearly as tall as Batumar, his head and face wrapped in a black scarf against the wind, hurrying toward our ship with nine beggar children running behind him, much like the ones we had seen earlier—here an arm, there a finger or an ear missing.
    The children squinted against the sun. Some even closed their eyes completely, hanging on to others for guidance, as if until now they had been kept in a dark place.
    I could not see them past a point, but they did not reappear on the dock. The scarfed man must have been able to negotiate passage with our captain, despite One-Tooth Tum’s protests that he did not take on passengers.
    “A beggar lord,” Batumar said and closed the porthole. “They come to the slave markets to replace the little beggars that they lose to abuse or disease.”
    I hoped we would not be forced to spend much time with the beggar lord during our journey. I thought it likely that the children had been maimed by the slavers on the man’s orders to make them better beggars. My heart shivered inside my chest. I hated the man already.

Chapter Seven
    (Hardstorm’s Fury)
     
     
    As we left Rabeen, I rested while my body rapidly healed. Batumar brought in a bucket of seawater so we could wash and he could shave with his dagger.
    Night had fallen when the captain sent word with Pek that we should go on deck as we would be entering the hardstorms early morning. I left our cabin with Batumar, walking on my own two feet. The thought that this would be our last chance for fresh air, for standing under the open sky for a while, drew me