Free The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet by Richard A. Knaak

least, the ankle had been bruised badly…and now was not.
    He looked to Lylia, and the way in which she gazed at him only made Uldyssian more uncomfortable. There was awe, incredible awe, and what almost seemed… worship?
    “You turned away…” the noblewoman murmured. “But you left your hand near my ankle. I knew…I knew you were not touching it, but I suddenly…I felt a wonderful warmth and the pain…it just went away…”
    “That’s not possible…there must be a reasonable explanation! An injury like that doesn’t just heal.”
    “You did it.”
    At first he thought that he had not heard Lylia correctly. Then, when her words at last registered with him, Uldyssian could scarcely believe that the noblewoman would even consider something so outrageous.
    “I’m no mage or witch!” he insisted, taken aback. “Your ankle was obviously not hurt after all! That’s the only answer!”
    She shook her head, eyes filled with something that should have gladdened his soul but only unnerved him more. Adoration . “No. I know the pain I felt. I know what I sensed from your hand…and I know that all the pain then disappeared as if it had never been.”
    Uldyssian stepped back from her. “But I didn’t do it!”
    The blond woman rose, then stepped toward him. Lylia moved without the least hint of injury.
    “Then who? Who performed such a miracle?”
    The last word sent shivers through him. He would not hear her. “We’ve no time for such foolishness!” He looked up. The sky seemed calmer, at least by them. Thunder yet roiled in the direction of Seram. Another bolt flashed over the village. “The storm—” Uldyssian had no other word for the peculiar weather. “—seems to be stalled. Praise be for that bit of luck!”
    “I do not think it was luck,” the noblewoman murmured.
    “Then what—” The farmer cut off, his face now blanching. “No, Lylia…don’t even jest—”
    “But do you not see, Uldyssian? How timely was that wind! How righteous was that bolt that struck the arrogant Brother Mikelius just before he could condemn you for murders you did not commit—”
    “And now you’d claim I’ve powers that did slay a man! Think of that, woman!” For the first time since he had met her, Uldyssian wanted to be nowhere near Lylia. It was not that he did not still find her desirable, but surely she suffered from some dementia. Perhaps the strain caused by her family’s misfortune had finally taken its toll. That had to be the explanation for her behavior…
    But what explained the injury that Uldyssian had seen? He did not consider himself of an imaginative nature. How, then, could his mind have conjured up such an elaborate delusion?
    “No!” the farmer snapped at himself. If he followed such reasoning, he would find himself believing Lylia’s outlandish suggestion. If that happened, it would be better for Uldyssian to turn himself in to the Inquisitors or the Guard before he truly did endanger someone else.
    A soft, warm touch on his hand stirred him back to the moment. Lylia stood barely an inch from him. “I know it was you who healed me, Uldyssian…and I believe that it is you who summoned the wind and the lightning in our time of need.”
    “Lylia, please! Listen to the absurdity of what you say!”
    Her flawless face filled his vision. “You want me to believe otherwise? Then prove me wrong.” The noblewoman gently took him by the chin and turned his gaze so that it fell upon the direction of Seram. “The lightning still falls, bringing justice and retribution with it. The sky still roars its anger at the false accusations made against you. The wind howls at the presumption of those who would judge you when they themselves are guilty!”
    “Stop it, Lylia!”
    But she would not. In a firm, even defiant voice, Lylia said, “Prove me wrong, dear Uldyssian! Will with all your might for the sky to quiet—nay, even clear—and if it does not, then I will gladly admit that I was sorely