Free Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) by Robert Day Page A

hanging from the chain around her neck.
    “ We must hope so, for so much rests on his finding the pieces of the Disk. It will be a long and hard road for him to travel, alone and in many ways unwise to the ways of the world, but do not doubt his determination or courage. He has skills and talents he is yet unaware of, and we know he can take care of himself.”
    “ He is so alone. I wish we could help him.”
    “ We are, Princess. Everything we do will assist him in different ways, some unseen.”
    “ Then we can only do what we can, and hope.”
    Ka'Varel’s only response was a hissing breath, perhaps brought on by the cold. She rose to leave, turning to bid him good night, but what she saw froze her in place.
    Ka'Varel sat rigid, his head pulled back so the chords in his neck strained, and his eyes were rolled back. His mouth was set in a rictus snarl, and his skin was pale though dotted by sudden beads of sweat. His gnarled hands clawed at the rough log, and it seemed as though he was not breathing.
    Kitara screamed then as a dark figure loomed before her. It carried a dark bladed longsword, while a cowl concealed a face not perceivable in the firelight. A brief glimpse showed dark flesh, smeared with a dark coating.
    The figure raised the weapon, making to strike, but as Kitara threw herself backwards onto the hard ground, the figure instead struck at the unprotected form of Ka'Varel.
    Or at least she thought he was unprotected. As she cried out and made to rise, clutching at the dagger at her side, the dark blade rang as it careened off Ka'Varel as if he were made of stone. The dark figure thrust again, aiming for the old man's heart, but the tip scraped across Ka'Varel's chest, tearing a gash in his shirt but not flesh.
    Kitara rolled to her feet and spied several more figures entering the camp, like specters in the dancing firelight. All carried dark swords, though two figures remained at the edge of the tree line, sheltered by the dark.
    Andrak and Tyr were roused, both beset by two dark figures. Hoping the two could handle themselves, she turned back to the prone Ka'Varel, not knowing how long the shield that protected him would last. The figure attacking Ka'Varel seemed preoccupied with his task, but when she made to advance, he shifted to keep her in sight as he hacked away. Feeling helpless, but knowing she could not hope to defeat the man with a dagger   and cursing that she had left her Rapier near her bedroll   she did what she hoped would at least delay the figure and threw her dagger at him.
    With uncanny speed, the figure reversed his sword and batted aside the dagger with a steely clang. The sword reversed again, as if the diversion had merely been an inconvenience, and struck once again at Ka'Varel. This time, the blade penetrated whatever barrier there was and drew blood, though only a slight line as the barrier took the brunt of the strike.
    Spurred on by this, the dark figure swung again, drawing another line across Ka'Varel's chest, markedly deeper than the first. Blood flowed slowly, as if held back by the invisible shield.
    Kitara flung herself desperately at the dark swordsman, knowing Ka'Varel was at the man's mercy. Her senses reeled from the shock and suddenness of what was happening. She knew brigand attacks were not uncommon between Brek and Thorhus where many merchants travelled, but these seemed to be more than simple brigands with their fine weapons and precise ambush. There was also the magic affecting Ka'Varel, which probably meant one of them was a magician of some power.
    The swordsman evaded her attempted grapple with ease, spinning to grasp her extended left arm. With unnatural strength, he spun her around before him, facing away with her arm pressed across her body, pinning both arms as he held her wrist in a steely grip. His sword was angled across her, alarmingly close to her throat.
    “ Do not struggle so, my Princess.”
    Hagar! That voice was indelibly etched into her