Free The Nomad by Simon Hawke Page B

poultice, and went over to get his tunic and sword.
    “That was uncommonly quick,” Valsavis said, watching him with interest.
    “I have a gift for healing,” Sorak replied as he buckled on his sword.
    “And apparently a gift for recovering from the effort it requires,” Valsavis said. “I have seen druids perform healing spells before. It nearly always leaves them drained, and they require hours of rest.”
    “I have no time for that,” said Sorak. “I thank you for your kindness, Valsavis, but I must go help my friend.”
    “Alone?” Valsavis said. “And on foot?”
    “I have no mount,” said Sorak.
    “I do,” Valsavis said. “My kank is staked just behind these rocks.”
    Sorak stared at him. “Are you offering to help?” Valsavis shrugged. “I have nothing better to do.”
    “You owe me nothing.” Sorak said. “Rather, he is who owe a debt to you. Those men who took my friend were probably a party of marauders. They will be heading for their camp. We will be greatly outnumbered.”
    “If they reach their camp,” Valsavis said. Sorak examined the trail leading from the rocks. “There are six or seven of them, at least,” he said. “Nine,” said Valsavis.
    Sorak glanced at him with interest. “Nine, then. And we are only two.”
    “Without me, you would be only one.”
    “Way would you risk your life for me?” asked Sorak. “I have no money, and cannot pay you.”
    “I did not ask for payment.”
    “Why then?” Sorak asked, puzzled. Valsavis shrugged again. “Why not? It has been a uneventful journey. And I am no longer of an age where I can afford to remain idle very long. I seed to keep my hand in, or all of the good jobs will go to younger men.”
    “And what if we should fail?” Sorak asked “I had never thought that I would live this long,” Valsavis replied flatly. “And the thought of dying in bed does not appeal to me. It lacks flamboyance.”
    Sorak smiled. “Somehow, I had never thought of death as flamboyant.”
    “Death itself is merely death,” Valsavis said. “It’s bow one lives, up to the final moment, that matters.”
    “Well then, let us see if we can introduce some marauders to their final moment,” Sorak said.
    “ That was not spoken like a druid healer,” said Valsavis, raising an eyebrow at him.
    “As you said, the ways of Athas can be harsh,” Sorak replied. “Even a healer must learn how to adapt.” He clapped his hand to his sword.
    “Indeed,” Valsavis said, getting to his feet. He kicked some dirt onto the fire to put it out. “I estimate they have perhaps three or four hours’ start. And they are mounted.”
    “Then there is no time to waste,” said Sorak.
    “We shall catch them, never fear,” Valsavis said.
    “You seem very confident,” said Sorak.
    “I always catch my quarry,” said Valsavis.

Chapter Three
    The trail was not difficult to follow. Nine riders, mounted on overburdened kanks, could not move without marking their passage. They seemed to be in no hurry. And why not? thought Sorak. They think I’m dead. They hadn’t even paused to check his body. He had been down on the ground, unmoving, with an arrow in his back, and they had Ryana to occupy all their attention. A chill went through Sorak as he considered what they might have done to her.
    She would never have gone quietly, and under normal circumstances, the marauders would have had a fight on their hands that would have proved much more than they had bargained for. But Ryana had been utterly exhausted from their long trek across the i plain. If she had fallen asleep, they might have taken her easily.
    Sorak tried not to think about what they might do to her. She was no ordinary woman. She was not only very beautiful, she was also a villichi priestess. However, it was possible her captors might not have realized that. Ryana did not look like most villichi. Her coloring was different, and though she was tall for a woman, she lacked the exaggerated length of neck